It appears as though all sorts of things go in circles and at this time the United Kingdom is gripped in a state of physical exercise and fitness.
Individuals are rebelling against their couches and their consoles in preference of more productive pastimes. However, though people’s intentions appear to be good, they could in reality be creating themselves more damage than benefit through wearing the incorrect running shoes.
My room is about to become increasingly cramped. I’ve got a bit of money going spare and I’ve decided that the PC needs, nay, deserves a couple of upgrades and, unfortunately, I’m going to need to clear out some space to accommodate them. That means that some more of the comics are going to have to be boxed up and put into my archive storage unit.
Sorry for the extensive downtime. This was caused by a DNS issue and was repaired by my friend Jamie – technology never works the way you want it to, does it? I hope you’ve all been OK without your daily doses of doom and have been keeping up with my exploits on The Good News Blog.
There will be another post shortly. But in the mean time, this is what I’ve been battering my eardrums with. I:Scintilla – Ammunition.
My escape is complete. I will update you on my stories of doom, woe and rage in a couple of weeks.
Screw you guys, I’m going home.
Reality TV is quite possibly my least favourite thing in the world. From the legions for clingy, fame-hungry wannabes that insist on being on the myriad of shows, to the cheap, manufactured drama, to the fact that once the show is over, most of the contestants insist on hanging around like a bad smell for months – sometimes years – afterwards. It gets to the stage where you can’t turn on the TV or read a magazine or internet forum without being force-fed information about who’s dating who and what show they were on.