I’ve put shackles around the poll’s ankles and dumped it into the Thames. There was one bloody stupid idea: asking people if I should quit blogging. Stronger men might have laughed off the answer but not me. It has made me unduly bitter and I’ve found myself being cruel to minor celebrities, just to see them cry.
You might have also noticed that I’ve roped yesterday’s 2500 word post to the chain as it sank beneath the water. There is another 3000 words of the story that will be going with it. The whole thing was getting far too big. Nobody was going to read it, did read it, or would want to read any more. I’ve written 130,000 of this blog since it began a few months ago. There was an element of blind panic in my starting out on a story that would take another 130,000 to finish. Judy spotted this immediately and told me to calm down.
The thought of hunting for a job had me thinking that just a couple of weeks I could write a book. I just ask that you bear with me while I go through this transition. These are hard times. Even harder, I should imagine, that having two rectums or working for the BBC.