I remembered the password to my Topica account tonight. Edition number 103 was dispersed into the internet tonight but what looked all nice and dandy on the screen before I clicked that mesmerising post it now button arrived in all those in boxes totally furgled. How disappointing.

It was my first one in 5 months. Five MONTHS. It wasn't that long ago I left this blog alone. I have no idea who half the people are who are subscribers to The Swamp and I wouldn't be at all surprised if most of them have forgotten who the hell I am and delete my latest effort thinking it's spam.

And if that's not all, I changed the password to bring it into line with most of my other passwords so I don't forget it again and got absolutely bombarded with offers to receive spam on a regular basis. Page after page after page of it. I have this nasty sinking feeling there were ticks in some of those boxes (that's check marks for strangers up north) and I missed some of them and I have inadvertently signed up for crap I don't want. Of course it's not spam if you ask for it, it's self flaggelation. (That's a fancy way of saying you get your own jollies without taking your pants off.)(Nicht floggen sie monster.)

I have to stop doing these things. Getting back on an old horse is bad news. It evokes memories and too many of mine are memories I would prefer remained buried. I love The Swamp. It's my pride and joy and I'm going to have to make a commitment to either keep it going regularly now or if I let it go like this again then I must just consign it to the dustbin of two times two good years worth of something I enjoyed doing while I did it before I moved on. Amazing isn't it. It's four years since I started The Swamp and four years since I first blogged.

Google sent the webcrawlers out again on Friday last week. I know this because the content of the returns has updated The Pad and there's a datestamp on it. How satisfying to know that my nick has been the first return in Google for nearly 3 years. Weeeeeeeeeeee.

I feel like taking the Saab for another run tonight, just because it's a Saab and I know I shall have to part with her pretty soon. I don't particularly want two cars and the Mit is, after all a more sensible, more invisible, easier on the juice, and generally more civilised car. What a shame. I really do like my beautiful ugly beast Saab. Passion over pride I think. I would love to keep her but I need to be sensible. It's pointless being sentimental about cars. They are a convenience and they're expensive to run and own. You either get value out of them or you get rid of them and that's all there is to it.

Memories again. Sometimes I just wish I didn't have them. People should be born 20 years old. It'd save a shitload of headaches.