Tuesday, 24 July 2012
Stream of Consciousness Link-Up, and Blog Hosting This Week
Hosted, as the pretty picture thingymabob over there says, by the lovely Notebook Sisters (who are awesome, and whom you should all go and follow because their posts are cooler than frozen Cap-sicles), it's a very simple concept.
Five minutes. Write. Whatever comes into your head. Doesn't matter what. Just write.
. . . Let's do this.
Gah, that stupid clock has no right to take that long to set itself to timer. Time is of the essence . . . literally! Lots of wibbly, wobbly, timey, wimey essence.
All those doors banging downstairs are really distracting. It sounds like Thor trying out for a boy band with an oversized and (by now) massively abused drum kit.
I cannot reach the closing bracket key correctly the first time. Curse you, awkwardly placed underscore.
Just wasted ten precious seconds staring at a spider on the wall.
No, wait, not spider. Not spider.
FLUFF! THE DEADLY SPECK OF FLUFF IS COMING FOR MY SOUL!
Do I have a soul?
Must have got lost in the mail. With my Hogwarts acceptance letter, my school report, and that mace I ordered from the Witch King of Angmar. Never trust Nazgul post. If the mount doesn't eat the map, then the Sat Nav will redirect them to Narnia the minute they cross over the Shire. Damn those Narnians and their technology-borking ways . . .
Oh, there it is. Missed it.
Heck, I ought to get rid of this keyboard cover. It's like trying to press the keys through a layer of jelly. Or brains. Or both. They're fairly interchangeable.
Two minutes left.
*insert that one really annoying song from Flash Gordon here*
Except that's four minutes. No difference.
My library book is giving me funny looks. It's just sitting there. Under my dressing down. Judging me.
Must . . . Not . . . Break . . . Eye contact.
Agh, my ankle just clicked in an even more painful way than usual. I swear it's not supposed to do that on Mondays.
I really want a biscuit.
Wow. I hate to think what impression that shpiel would give to someone who didn't know me very well. Because then they might think I was crazy. Even though it is already a confirmed fact in the rest of the world.
Anyway, before I go my dearies, I have some sad news. I'm going to be away visiting relatives, watching a Shakespeare performance and attending the volleyball event at the Olympics this week, and won't be back until next Wednesday night. Unfortunately, I don't think I can get hold of any other bloggers to do a guest post for me at such short notice, so I filled in with the best backups I could find.
And so, this coming week, you shall be treated to posts by a few selected members of the many fictional persons who govern my head. Their names and topics of discussion appear below:
~ On Thursday the 26th of July, you'll meet Rahad.
~ On Saturday the 28th of July, the much-mentioned Vidal will be here, in the (figurative) flesh.
~ On Tuesday the 31st of July, Abra will be hosting your show.
I will leave it up to their wisdom to introduce themselves and the topics I have given them to talk about.
Feel free to leave comments, even in my absence - I'll need some proof of how they did when they get back! However, in order not to freak them out too much (and prevent them from running away), if they do badly, or displease you in some other way, simply leave the word WUBBLE in your comment.
I repeat, if the character is a bad host, leave a comment containing the word WUBBLE somewhere within it. Capitalisation and bold font are optional, however. Unless you really really want to.
Until then, however, I shall bid thee farewell, readers! Enjoy yourselves!
~ Charley R