The other bloggers also have, on average, nice handwriting. I'm not going to link any of them because it would be like wearing dirty undercrackers and then standing in front of La Senza and pointing out how clean all the knickers are in the window. Ooh, look at Madame DeFarge, look at Savannah, look at UnderOvr. They all have cleaner pants than me.
Damn - linked 'em.
Well, the missus hijacked the computer earlier, presumably to order cushions for her cushion room, and I sat on the opposite side of the table twiddling all my thumbs and practicing my patented Woman, Get Off The Computer stare. Apparently, it needs work because she asked if I needed some prunes. This resulted in no tippetty-typing for me, which was a shame because I had planned to blog up. I sighed melodramatically instead, and declined the prunes.
There was a pad of A4 paper and a pen on the table in front of me, and I thought "It would be really useful to have a prehensile penis like what an elephant has."
Then I saw the paper and pen and thought, "I shall hand-write a blog post!"
And I did.
Now, I'm someone who has to write on a regular basis, but not creatively or for fun, and my reports have to be boringly succinct so they can be filed away and read by precisely no-one, ever. For this reason, my penmanship is pretty average, and by average I mean cack.
No matter, I thought, I shall have a go. And as an extra constraint, I shall make myself have but one go, and not allow any crossings out or tippexing. That way, anyone who deigns to look at it will get a more unfettered view of how I operate.
So here it is:
You can see I was quite enthusiastic to begin, and carefully scrawled as neatly as possible, but you'll soon note that I start to lose interest and gradually resume my normal apathetic calligraphy.
If you find you can't read it then, if I were you, I would count my blessings, frankly.
