The Apocalypse Never Waits ...

I’m doing something I’ve never done before here.  Look. Good, isn’t it?  Who would have thought a hang glider would dunk so satisfactorily...  But.  Apart from that, I’m doing something else for the first time – I am preparing this post in advance.

Don’t think I didn’t hear your indrawn breath of shock and horror, you thought all my posts were carefully handcrafted, erased, rewritten, corrected, edited and finally, when the polish was almost worn away with the constant buffing, placed with the utmost care upon this humble website of mine.  Ho, as they say, ho.  My posts are usually hastily scribbled down, most often as I scrunch myself further under the duvet in the attempt to deny that another day has dawned.  Yep, there I lie in my Enid Blytonesque pyjamas (they look, apparently, like something one of Enid Blyton’s characters would wear, they aren’t Blytonesque because they are covered in rabbits in clothes, or cats doing needlework or anything, because that would be odd),

                                                      (yep, I look exactly like this...)

 my eyes half closed and my hands clenched into fists like a couple of legs of lamb, punching away at the keyboard in much the same fashion as an infinite number of monkeys.  And sometimes words appear in an order which manages to convince readers that I have some idea of what I am writing.

But today... ah, today, gentle reader (I am making huge assumptions about your gentleness here, you realise, you might have all the digital finesse of a troll attempting to eat beans from a can), yes, today I am approaching forethought from the right direction!  Although, now I come to think of it, there might be some huge, world changing event between now (Thursday), and my posting of this blog (Sunday).   If the world is annihilated by a meteor strike which turns those surviving members of the human race into flesh-devouring zombies, hunted to eventual extinction by the aliens that rode the meteor into our atmosphere for the purposes of using our planet as a breeding zone – well, then I’m going to be wasting my time, aren’t I?  Always assuming that any zombies with internet access can be bothered to access my blog for purposes other than trying to locate me in order to eat my brains, are they really going to pay close attention to my words of wisdomish?  Or are they simply going to try to eat the keyboard?

 

This is how I'm thinking of you right now.  In my Enid Blyton pyjamas.  Makes you weep, doesn't it?

So, on second thoughts, I don’t think I’ll bother.  By the time I post this you’ll be too busy being hunted by aliens to read it.

Oh, and.. RUN!