Yesterday was Saint Patrick’s Day. He might be one of the better known saints, but there’s a patron saint of everything, if only you wish to look. Unfortunately for writers, I did look, and the patron saint of writing is complete crap. So I’ve written a manifesto for a new one.
I read an article about niche comedy, and had a thought. We all know that me thinking thoughts can never come to any good, so you may as well read this post to confirm your (entirely justified) prejudices. For one thing, validation makes you feel good. For another, I make an amazing analogy about car windows you won’t want to miss. Honest.
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.
