Blogging is what happens when you make other plans

My blog, in the planning stages:
A humorous, edgy, adult take on dating from the pov of a single mother.

My blog, in reality:
A fucking depressing soul splurge covering death and depression with the odd bit of anal sex for jollies along the way, and a chilling insight into the mind of a neurotic 30-something with, ahem, issues.

Depressed D comments:
‘Can’t even get my own blog right…’ (said in suitably Eyeore-ish tone)

Grieving D comments:
‘I wonder if my Dad is reading this? Do they have the internet in… hmmm. Where is he, exactly?’

The D that’s fucking The Pirate comments:
‘Why hasn’t he called? WHY? WHHHHHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYY? Shall I ring him? Shall I, huh? Shall I just call him? Oh – what? You want me to comment on why our blog has gone so horribly off-piste? For fuck’s sake people – I’m busy here! Doyouhaveanyideahowtimeconsumingnotringinghimis?’ (the latter hissed  ‘your mother sucks cocks in hell‘ stylee).

The end.

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