So here we are again, late at night and grumbling mildly away that Monday seems to have been missed when in fact as far as I'm concerned there's still one more sleep to be endured before it becomes Tuesday for real here. Endured? That's what I said. I dislike the need for sleep. I would rather stay awake and do stuff.

Fun stuff, dull stuff, bad stuff - who cares as long as it's just doing something.

Does that sound like attention deficit disorder to you?

Would answer a few questions wouldn't it.

If you'd care to take a glance to the right of the screen (--->) you may notice I have added two more links to the Gropes. Both are to blogs hosted here at the Big B, one whose newsletter I subbed up to about 3 years ago, the other at the behest of its owner who was concerned his blog may not be up to the standard of mine.

Tomcat old son, I checked it out, it's marvellous. Be loud and proud of it. All the rest of you, do that thing you do with your clicky thing when you've finished gawping at my stuff and see what else turns me on.

I uploaded a small video file to The Pad this afternoon, gave it its own new page - funny stuff - then naturally enough, passed the link around to a few people, well boards actually, but you know how it goes. I should go and get rid of them because being a free account I have at the Batcave, it's going suck up my rather limited bandwidth I have there. C'est la vie. No updates til next month I suppose. It's only two weeks away. I'll live.

Email's gone quiet again, except for Don who sent me some cool vids - one of those is the one that's now up in The Pad - and a maggot who spammed me for a home loan. I replied, calling him a cunt and told him to fuck off - as you do - but naturally it bounced. Bastard.

I've also gone and updated other stuff I have round the net, but if the same people go looking at all my stuff wherever I put it, I'll eventually run out of stuff to make these people smile. Get over it guys, I don't need adoration. I do this because I enjoy it, not because it's expected of me. And speaking of expectation, I can't remember my password to The Swamp. I wanted to put one of those out tonight, first one in ages, and I can't get in. I told them to send me a new password, which they said they did, but it hasn't hit my inbox yet. Ergo, no Swamp update today.

Still no separation certificate from IPA either. So tomorrow morning we bully the bully. He faxes it through to me by the hour I specify or I send a damning email to his boss threatening to take the fat bastard to the Court of Arbitration for unfair dismissal. It's hardly a big deal, I mean I could filch graphics from the website and forge one for myself. The only reason I don't is because it would almost certainly be spotted. To be mean and ogrish or sly and get busted. No choice really.

In an IM convo, a name from yore reared its ugly head again and she's apparently still being the most lying slut bitch she was when I ran her out of PnA. I dunno. I just don't understand how anyone can be like that and still live with themselves let alone have the front to carry on in a chatroom where people know it's the purest form of bullshit they've ever seen. I don't know why someone in that room's management doesn't just bite the bullet and ban the bitch.

To my way of thinking, she's as bad as that filth whose name and blog I refuse to mention here who murdered the family and raped the children. That's a big statement, but let's collate a fact or two here. She knows what she is doing causes problems for people and she's especially hurting men who take this bullshit known as internet chat too seriously - you know, the lonely types - yet she keeps doing it, luring them in then pouring cold water on them when they get too close. She thinks it's all a big game, just harmless fun. Maybe that would be so if people weren't getting hurt, but they are - and she knows it - and THAT is what pisses me off so much.

I'm offended by the sound of her very name. If it appears in any gripes in this blog, I will delete them without exception even if posted by a close associate as a joke. She just offends me that much. Anyone who wilfully and repeatedly hurts people for no good reason offends me. I just don't understand why they do it.

And that brings me to the marvel of Cheri. She has every right to say that this is exactly the sort of behaviour I exhibited towards her. Well, there's a difference between what I do and what the former troll of PnA does. And Cheri can bleat all she likes, but the fact is, she's an insane neurotic liar as well and my beloved Tart and I busted her when she accused someone from PnA of stalking her. She refused to name who it was or what had taken place so Tart or myself could have informed the appropriate authorities. (We take this sort of thing seriously you see.) The only conclusion we could draw from that was she was grandstanding and lying. Then, O holier than thou Cheri has a history of foul mindedness as archived in The Promethean's Clubhouse.

To put it bluntly, she's a self righteous, pompous halfwit who fancies herself as an intellectual with class and an education. We laughed hard at her tirades. She busted us making fun of her in our own little room away from her space and decided we were all deceivers and evildoers and banned us. Me, she banned twice. lol. I'm so proud of that. According to her, I stench. According to the dictionary, stench isn't a verb, it's a noun. Silly strumpet. Mad as a balloon.

So much for the finer points of what's acceptable bullshit and what most definitely isn't. One thing is for sure, nobody can honestly say I've set out to play with their heartstrings. Anyone who says I've given them the come on is lying. It's part of my credo that I'm single and staying that way and it's not about to change any time soon. Those who know me well enough even understand why and keep their p's and q's to themselves about it. (Touchy subject. Don't ask.)

According to the timestamp jiggy boo a scant inch and a half beneath these words as I type them, I am sort of reliably informed this blog entry has so far taken 38 minutes to write. I do, in fact, type considerably faster than that would imply, but being as pedantic as I am, I like to make sure each word fits in just right so there are no catches. Each word needs to be the right word for the occasion, not to mention spelt correctly. And since I'm not heavily into the obfuscation some folks like to inflict upon their readers, to me, if a word doesn't look and feel right when I'm doing this, it gets rejected for a suitable alternative.

This is why I read Rageboy's contributions to the world wide timetrap. He describes himself as having an almost unwieldingly large vocabulary - or words to that effect. Reading his stuff, one is apt to encounter some real arcane beauts, transported out of 1821 to the 21st century without affectation or . I'm not going to bother with dictionary.com's thesaurus feature at 2.30 in the morning. I'm going to finish this and get to bed at least 4 hours before the sun comes up. Another 9 minutes to type this lot since the last time check.

I didn't scan anyone else's blogs tonight. Shame really. I would have liked to purloin a few more lines of style quite distinct from my own and assimilate them. Instead, I messed around with The Pad, messed around in a few comms and perused Tomcat's (Eff to you) blog before putting a link in.

On a final note for tonight, laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa... (in B sharp)