Well, this is exciting. For me anyway.
So this bloggery thing will resemble, I suppose, the non-stop shitstorm that is going on in my mind. Better out than in, many people say. Like farting, then. We’ll see. And expect me to run the OTHER WAY when they crack open the straightjacket.
Mum keeps calling, afraid I’m going to be murdered, raped or, at the very least, converted to Scientology while I’m in the US for three weeks. She’s all like “But dude, you’re not driving, are you?”. OK, maybe without the ‘dude’, but you get the general idea. I assure her I am not, in fact, driving. I am instead going to pogo my way around the South Western states and their enormous deserts and canyons. This bout of facetiousness doesn’t go down well. So I try to reassure her by saying the worst that could happen is that I will end up having to eat in Taco Bell. What I don’t tell her is that this is the part I’m most looking forward to…
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