Oh my me, I've only gone and done it again

They're strange things, these blogs. I suspect the reason a lot of people write them is due to the ungraspable, ethereal nature of the internet. Millions of computers, hundreds of thousands of microPCs and erm, other technical terms that don't sit well in my head.

"Man, there are 6 billion people on the planet and half of my mates have got broadband. That means there are 3 billion people who are going to read it!!!! I'm going to be famous!!!"

In reality, I reckon a lot of people's habits are pretty similar. In my case, I'll check the usual few things, my two e-mail accounts, has the uksf archive been updated (ffs, someone's got to be an optimist), any world-shaking catastrophes happened, how are Everton doing, and any decent pictures of the foxy Estella Warren.

It would take an ardent, perhaps even obsessive compulsive kind of blogfan to sift through the reams and reams of "One-post specials", the internet equivalents of such flash-in-the-pan trendsetters as Musical Youth, Glenn Madeiros and Madonna, only to find what they were seeking.

Some kind of life-affirming, inspirational missive festival. Like mine, only better.

To be perfectly and accurately, possibly even precisely frank with you, these tales of blogs being so arse-tearingly good are a bit too much like the old Soviet stories of the uberminer, Stakhanov, who single-handedly mined an entire mountain range that no longer exists using only his big toe and a pair of canvas underpants to excavate the said range.

"Jendary Hooblestein, a 28 year old lawyer from Kranzville, ND, won a publishing deal thanks to her weblog, or blog, detailing her daily struggle against the No. 31 bus and it's stone-faced driver." Okey Dokey.

Actually, cancer's all the rage these days. Something of a cancer race in the blog world has developed. Across the world, bloggers are seeking rarer and rarer forms of cancer so that they can detail their struggle against it. If I wasn't such an honest 12-inch cocked man, I'd tell you all about my own struggle against cancer of the area immediately below the bit where my forearm muscles taper into the crook of my elbow.

Signing off,

Blogger Chief Macca