I don't seem to do many interesting things and certainly nothing interesting ever happens to me. Which really doesn't help when you are trying to keep an amuzing and entertaining on-line diary, or weblog as the young people of today are calling it. They say the skill of a good writer is that they can write about nothing and make it seem interesting, which explains why when I have nothing to write about, I tend to write nothing. When I feel myself getting desparate, it is a real strain to find something funny.

Take last night for example, after drifting off to sleep just after 22:00, nothing funny happened to me at all between then and when I got up. Sure my temporary clothes rail, purchased for a tenner from Argos, collapsed under its own volition at twenty past midnight and scared the shit out of me. But that wasn't funny. And then my alarm decided to turn itself off making me oversleep by half an hour.

Even passing my mate Matt on the Busy Road today on my to work wasn't funny:
"You're late!!" he yelled over the traffic.
"I'll still be in half an hour before everyone else and anyway, you're not my boss so fuck off." I called back in a friendly don't-mess-with-me-today-or-I'll-kill-you way.

Nothing funny happened on the tram. Sure there was a girl, who must've finished 11th in Blackwell's worst-dressed women's list, wearing a hiddeous leopard skin coat and a pink muppet fur hat. Poor Miss Piggy. And there was an older guy in a Gore-Tex jacket. Now if only he'd spontaneously combust or pull a midget out of his pocket - that would be funny.

As I walked through town, I wished and wished that the walkin' talkin' Barbie Doll in the pointy-toed stilletto-heeled over the knee boots would get one of the heels caught in the tram track causing her to trip over and then be squashed by a tram. Even finding Mrs. A. Brown's Switch Card on the floor only caused temporary amusement when I tried to decide if I should hand it in or empty my Amazon wishlist.

And you certainly wouldn't be interested in hearing about the two new bumpy bits I noticed on my six pack, would you?

But none of this is funny and it certainly wasn't worth writing about.

It's been a quiet day in Lake Wobegon.....