Sometimes, I think that Iâ€™ve been doing this blawging malarkey for a long old time; four years, with a post on most days. Half a million words. Twenty thousand pieces of bloody spam in the few months.
And yet, I am but a young thing. Hell, Dooce has been at it for six years, and some crazy long haired hippy claims to have been at it since the dark days of â€˜98. BAck before there was an internet; back before digital communication; back when BT was considering upgrading to SmokeSignal 2.1.
Said long haired hippy is organising a small get together of those fools fool enough to find a corner of the internet and put forth their Norn Iron-ness onto it. If these follow the traditional pattern, people will try to get thaâ€™Wulf to cry, people will mention dimples that I donâ€™t have, there will be general musical discussion way above the heads of mere mortals, someone will get on a soapbox about civil liberties, too much caffine will be imbibed, there will be stealing of cake, and then it will be decided to move to a bar.
Good craic, would be the point. And April 7th would be the date. Be there, or be mocked.
Disclaimer: Mocking may be involved even for those who are there. No monies will be refunded. Good craic is implied but cannot be guaranteed. Ability to get to Belfast is recommended. This does affect your statutory rights; by passing your eye over this paragraph, you have waived all statutory rights. Shouldnâ€™t have looked, should you, now youâ€™ve lost out.
I’ve just gone 4 months with an estate agent and various solicitors.
There will be no making me cry, there will only be pain for those who try.