All Apologies

Merely days after the clocks struck 12 (somewhere...at the Old Blue Last however there wasn't actually a midnight countdown), and still after i'd rolled out of bed to blearlily welcome a new decade into my life, it hit me, with the same sound, force and calamity of a sumo gong that i had been neglecting my poor old blog for quite some while.

The salt packed in my self gouged wound was that someone I mildly detest- the darling shall remained unnamed here- had started a blog not unlike mine. The upswing of this was that it still renders PFNT a sincerely pinch-of-(wound)salt affair, unlike the banal self righteous ramblings of some people.

So what, prey tell, have i been doing with my life, the life which i have idled away instead of concentrating at the blogging of important national and international current affairs to...well...just Rachel and Gigi really (thanks for the support guys) ?!

The answer would be illustrated visually if you took your average female university student, turned up the colour contrast, static and noise on the TV set you're watching her on, minused from the equasion the many hours wilfully analysing Radiohead's back catalogue and riding around in a sainsbury's trolley pissed on wkd, and fed her upon a diet of Lidl vegedable soup peppered liberally with speed.*

There are way too many highly interesting and really very exiting(?) anecdotes i could describe at this point, but i digress. I do not have the strenght, patience or near enough as many memory braincells that have not been doused and killed with alcohol to regail every single one of them.

Let me just tie the ends of this soggy, half arsed apology for a blog entry, leave you in the good will that there will actually be some half-decent-entertaining-ish shit posted up here in the near future, and leave it at that.

I've said my peice. Now here are a couple of nice pictures of nice things that i really, really, think are really quite nice at the moment.

Penelope Cruz in 'Blow', Marina and the Diamons, and Four letters of Love by Nial Williams. FIN.

*I do not take, nor condone the taking of speed. Cant afford any, anyway.