Connection dropped.

Well hello strangers. Yes, it has been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve been having internet problems, in as much as it didn’t work. Anyhow it would appear, having moved all my furniture about, unplugging everything in the house, including the toaster, and even plugging stuff in that was unplugged, unscrewing the panel on the front of the phone socket, rolling up my trouser legs, standing on one leg in a bucket of pilchards whilst humming the Italian national anthem, that the pixie that lived in the magic interwebz den down at the exchange had died, or moved to Cancun, or something, and the magic pixie wrangler from the interwebz company had to go and revive him, or replace his magic pixie boots, or something.

The upshot is that the interwebz is now working again. I do have mobile phone interwebz access, but I’m far too clumsy, fat fingered and impatient to be typing out a post on a screen the size of a packet of fags.

How did people survive before the ‘net? I was close to going hunting in a hedge to see if I could accidentally stumble upon some prurient material that the other sort of magic pixie had left. Does this still happen? Why would you dump a copy of Razzle in a hedge anyway?

Much has happened since the internet deserted me, and I will shortly be writing about why I think the Prime Minister is a complete nincompoop whom I would not trust to run so much as a bath, let alone a country. However at the moment I feel like a child who has been sent to give their room a good tidy, but keeps happening upon lots of cool stuff that needs immediate attention. There must be at least four dozen cat videos I’ve not seen.

Normal service will resume imminently. . .

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