Hello, folks! This is not the entity known as Patrick D Ryall, oh no. This is his roommate, Marq, stepping in to wreak some havoc while he is away. I can tell you right now that this is not going to end well. All bets can be placed at our betting booth.
I realize that I may have even less to say than our lovely travelling-nation-man, but I’m trying to remedy that. Of course, I’m doing stupid stuff with my website(s) at the moment, not something that allows me to write or anything. I haven’t done the weblog thing for a good couple of years now (as long as I’ve lived with Pat now; is that a coincidence or what?). Maybe someday his constant nattering about C2! will get me to do something with that, even. But bringing it up here will only give him more fodder to shoot at me when he gets home, so I will mention it no more.
I totally thought of something even more banal to bring up when I took over, something that happened or something I looked at when I was out at Shoppers earlier, something on the current level of Pat’s “blogging”, but now I can’t remember what it was. At all. That was pretty banal. It’s so staying.
It occurs to me that once upon a time when I did the weblog thing for real, years and years ago, and I went away for the weekend, I let Pat loose on it and he just wouldn’t shut up. Seriously. Now the tables have turned! Mwah! Hah! Hah!
Love and Peaches,
Scumbag! You’ll pay for this! You just wait!