Reckless, feckless things, blogs.
You go through a spell where you blog and you sit and you wait, you moderate and you do quite little else, really.
Then you have to go out and do stuff to feed the beast, whether it be the cinema, for a walk, to the pub or, in many cases, to the pub.
You write about this, that and the other and you're careful not to name names, and certainly none in a negative light. Friends and family take on pseudonyms, situations are embellished or, in certain cases, they're just complete flights of fantasy.
Then, there are times where you think you're staying just on the right side of coy when, in fact, you're 'opening that door' just a little too far and somebody ends up getting hurt, however ill intentioned.
I'm coming to the end of my seventh year of posts and it's only happened twice (that I can think of), and both times I really ought to have known better.