Why Won’t You Comment?

 

Comment is free! So why don't any of you guys do it?

If you know who this guy is– Charles Prestwich Scott– , in relation to comments, unaided by google or any other search engine, you get a very awesome prize. GO!

Ah, the comment. My heart leaps every time I see that text-box at the bottom of a web page, a blank canvas ready for me to say exactly what I think. And I do. Frequently.

I Hate You 5

DISCLAIMER: It’s that time again. Any fans of NSN, please disregard the disgruntled criticism and enjoy the video. If you read this, I may have to eat you, before you light your torches and pick up your pitchforks.

Okay?

***

…I love you one, a two, a three shoobee-doo
I love you four, that’s more than I can afford
And I can tell some day that I’m gunna’ say the truth
I love you five

Oh. My God.

On Boys, Bikes and Mistaken Identity

I am a blogger* and a geek, therefore I have no life.

So, what do I do during the summer holidays when I am on my lonesome (for, due to my nerd-dom, I have no friends)? I ride up and down the canal path near where I live, on my bike.**

First, let me explain about my bike.

Blogging Is Scary Again.

Oh, I long for the days when I could look at my blog with reckless abandon.

Cute, but I don't really know wh-- oh, I get it now.

Unfortunately, as a four month-old blogger (okay, almost. His birthday is in  17 days), blogging is scary. Take this scenario for instance.

Eric

I’m a murderer.