Voluntary euthanasia.

All around me are familiar faces, worn out places, worn out faces...

It's been a funny old week. One of the good blogs throws in the towel, one has his towel nicked by a complete tosser, one is found in the lost property box and returns washed and ironed, and at least one opens a fresh new towel and spreads it carefully over blogland. The surface ripples for a couple of days then settles into normality again.

Blogs start and end all the time, some prematurely. It's a matter of choice, but some people have the ability to be truthful with themselves and stop when they think they have nothing else to offer.

It's perhaps as well I have no such self constraint, if I threw in the towel every time I thought this blog was below the level of quality I would like, well then it wouldn't even have started. It's all here, the good the bad and the downright self-indulgent. I couldn't give a toss really, this blog comes to life through the comments and the list of highly enjoyable places to go.

I had a dream, it was lovely for a short time and then not. I awoke on a beach, the sun warm on my face. The sky above was a deep blue and entirely cloudless, and the sea was nipping at my ankles as it came inexorably toward me. I basked for a while in the warmth, breathing deeply as my stresses drifted away. Behind me a faint rustle of trees completed the desert island fantasy, and I drifted on. I sat up suddenly, eyes wide and mouth agape, a look of horror on my face akin to Munch's little screamer. Simon ! If you get washed up on a desert island, how the fuck are you gonna blog ?

I maybe think a little too deeply sometimes, but after nearly two years of blogging I feel part of something. Something I will find very difficult to give up. I'll be the ex England international of bloggers, the one playing for Rochdale in the auto-windscreen trophy when his ex team mates are in Marbella getting old and brown.

Far from euthanising this blog, I plan to keep it alive by any means necessary. Pumping it full of anything I can get my hands on, until it's rotting cadaver stinks in the corner of blogland and the only place I get hits from is "codger blogs".

Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow, no tomorrow, no tomorrow...