Unimportant Reader’s Note: due to legal reasons, this post is being moderated by The Moderator from Skynet in order to avoid additional reasons.
So this morning I woke up with a crick in my neck. This was my own fault in part because I use pillows positioned at an angle so I can lie down at night watching a Netflix on my phone while simultaneously drinking from a bottle of lager using a straw without spilling it on the Wham! ‘Choose Life’ t-shirt that I wear for bed. This is normally a fairly successful and fulfilling routine but this morning I woke up to discover I was paralysed in a small, 5cm area of the left hand side of my neck. This tiny area of trapped nerve produced enough excruciating pain down the left hand side of my body that it rendered me unable to initiate my morning routine of immediately jumping out of bed to spend the next 90 minutes on the toilet while simultaneously texting my friends that I’m about to spend 90 minutes on the toilet. I won’t elaborate on what happened next but suffice to say that particular hour and a half trapped in bed was emphatically unpleasant for a multitude of reasons.
Anyway, it turns out that it’s been exactly six months since I lasted posted on my blog. While this has caused mass hysteria and upset with all both of my readers (hello Mam, hello Dad) by way of them once asking if I still ‘write that shite’ for the internet, not to mention a creative atrophy not seen since the release of Oasis’ Be Here Now, there is a genuine, real-life, non-bullshit explanation for me not bothering my arse with it all. In a nutshell it’s because of my current *this comment has been removed by The Moderator owing to reasons* and the subsequent fall out from this as well as the absolutely fucking ridiculous *this comment has been removed by The Moderator owing to reasons*. Put it this way, the opening paragraph of this blog post is an accurate metaphor of the year 2017 in the world of me.
But seeing as this is an update it behoves me to apprise you all with what’s happening in the world of dysfunctional email correspondence, my current problems with *this comment has been removed by The Moderator owing to reasons*, and my existence in general. It will reassure you all to know that I still can’t drive, my son recently turned one year old (I don’t embellish when I say I have roughly 2,000 photos of him on my phone) *The Moderator will accept this comment relating to the author’s offspring*, and I’ve forgotten how to write material for a blog that once had seven readers a week in its glory days. Which explains the rusty nature of this particular post.
However, I promise that things will soon be looking more positive going forward. This is because my blog hits have absolutely spiked over the last six months.
While one could look at this and suggest a correlation between high viewing figures during this period and me not writing a sodding thing, it turns out that there’s a popular pop song in the popular hip-hop genre of popular music that explains this sudden fascination with my blog. A tune named ‘Cake‘ – presumably written by ninety-nine percent of the population of the American state of Florida – was released at some point at the tail end of last year, or early this year, or at some point of this year, or at some point ever. The point is that the song is – much like this blog – specifically about all the different types of cakes you can buy at Greggs The Bakers in Newcastle upon Tyne but done in a way that it’s relentlessly played at gymnasiums up and down the country. This has agreeable symmetry because people who gorge on cake tend to be a bit roly-poly so listening to a song about cake in the gym would ease the pain of having to do exercise. One of the pre-eminent lyrics in this particular masterpiece is ‘I only came for the cake‘, and a simple Google search of this term immediately directs you not to a hilarious blog about the hit and miss wit and wisdom of a middle-aged man, but straight to a video of this Shakespearean tune of lyrical genius that clearly has nothing to do with casual sex and everything to do with Greggs’ desserts
. However, my website is visible enough in this Google search that the youth of America apparently stumble across it, read it, and presumably leave aghast enough to better their lives so as not to turn into the author. So I’m probably doing my bit. In a way. I’d reply to all their bewildered queries but to be honest I’ve forgotten how to read.
*Hi, The Moderator here! Just saying hi because I don’t want to come across as a bit of a bastard because I’m doing my job moderating some pretty sensitive shit. I love Chris really. He is tall, friendly and handsome. Bye!*
But I digress. In the midst of all the stressful *this comment has been removed by The Moderator owing to reasons* that has completely upended this past year, I’ve managed to steady the
shit ship lately. I’ve started going to the gym again, I’ve stopped shitting with the door open as it was previously upsetting any visitors to my home, and I have big plans afoot regarding a book I’m having published. So if it interests any of you I’m about to force a book of poems on the general public that details *this comment has been removed by The Moderator owing to reasons* and the effect it’s had on *this comment has been removed by The Moderator*. You can download a copy of this wonderful book of shite from this link here: *this link is not available yet because it’s not available yet and because The Moderator says so*. So I’m hanging tough.
In the meantime I’m writing again, finally, after all the shit of *this comment has been removed by The Moderator owing to reasons* so my generic email correspondence bullshit will once again rear its head and clog up your Facebook timelines.
Oh, bugger off.