In a bookshop in Beijing, I discover you can’t judge a book by its cover, Ireland for dummies, why frolicking is forbidden, and that in English, some sentences are spoken only by women.
You may think travel is a privilege. It’s not. It’s a war. With that in mind, I have an idea for a fun, healthy way for today’s competitive travellers to make mincemeat out of each other.
I sat down to write about the Russian part of the Trans-Siberian Railway journey. It turned out to be harder than you might think, and here’s why.
It’s January, and therefore time to slim down. I intend to trim the fat from this blog, starting with humour and other dangerous threats to society, such as adjectives. Who’s with me?
I have a guest post over at Anne R. Allen’s mighty blog today, where I rework a very old festive song classic and make it all about writers at Christmas. Without writers there would be no Christmas, and without blogs there would be no place to put this sort of daft joke. I know, I can’t believe my luck either.
It seems Tark and Mara were not told the full truth behind being handed the reins of that mediocre blog in November, and they’re not happy about it. However, even mediocre bloggers should know that nobody gets the upper hand on these two for long.
Dublin’s richest miscreants further their takeover of that awful Spalding woman’ blog, and their plans to turn the wealthiest 1% of the world into figures deserving of unconditional love and adoration. It’s all downhill from here.
Tark agrees to make a reappearance on that dreadful Sparkling woman’s blog, much to Mara’s disgust. However, as always, all is not as it seems. Tark has his own agenda, and it’s one which just might change the entire world.
Ten years ago, we had woefully little to get truly offended about. There was little pleasure to be had in face-to-face confrontation, given its general ickiness and constant threat of physical violence. But now we have LOADS to get offended about, every day of the week! Whoever says that things aren’t better nowadays obviously just doesn’t have enough friends online.
It’s HIGH CONCEPT JOKE TIME! A group of unfashionable narrative techniques attend their weekly support group, unaware that impending disaster is about to tear their world apart. Can the Omniscient Third Person Narrator refrain from commenting on everyone else? Will the Prologue From The Future ever get to finish? And will One-Liner Bob get to have the last laugh?
