Was this month really the best time for me to decide that I was going to be posting everyday? Really?

The month that my work has gone plum loco intense in anticipation of me heading off next week to a conference (in BC! NORTHERN BC!)? And the month that I decided to take a week-long data conversion project and literally the minute I finished it discover that due to my beautifully undiscovered fuckup that every single record was wrong? The month that the amount of freelance work I do has amped up so much so that I needed to pony up for this oh-so-pretty MacBook Pro lying under my fingers so that I could actually get work done while away in BC meaning that the lovely Rockie Mountains will probably be free from my grubby paws for the majority of the trip? The month that my sisterwhoeatspoofortwo finally got over this whole pregnancy thing and actually birthed the wee Nugget mere weeks before my stunningly fabulous Nana finally went into the hospital for the operation that had been hanging over her head for the past handful of years and yes she’s doing great right now but she’s dealt with more crap than anybody should have to — English war bride and all — so anytime she’s not sitting pretty getting whatever she wants I worry?

(And that wasn’t even a sentence but now my battery’s about to kick out.)

And the month that fricking Heroes starts again?

Really? THIS WAS THE MONTH I PICKED??

I really do have some good stuff to write.

I’m just hunting for the time…

Please bear with me…

Busiest. Day. Ever.

I urgently require nourishment for my body and soul.

Perhaps a shipment of bunny rabbits and cheese danishes?

If this is not feasible, perhaps a danish in the shape of a bunny.

Or vice versa.

Stat. I’m fading fast.

…

(And CAPTION, dammit! And you can caption more than once, if the inspiration hits!)

There may possibly need to be a small amount of civil planning done when a single accident — one single accident — stops traffic in a city cold.

And I don’t mean just the big streets.

All of them.

I was able to make it to My Lovely Wife’s office only an hour late because I stopped in my valiant yet vain attempt to drive straight to her by turning around, driving in the opposite direction, and then CIRCUMNAVIGATING THE ENTIRE CITY.

And this leads me to my real aggravation.

TO A HALIFAX RADIO STATION THAT SUCKS: It creates no sense of public goodwill to advertise that you have the most frequent traffic reports in the city if your traffic reports bear no relation to the actual state of traffic in the city other than the names of the streets. It’s like you’re playing Madlibs with our sanity. And the only words you have added are “flowing” and “moderately”. To every single blank. In pen.

Asshats.

That’s it.

THAT’S FREAKING IT!

I’ve had it with being a crappy blogger! I’ve had it with crappy little posts that basically say nothing more than “Waa waa waa I’m really busy waa waa waa here are some random excuses interspersed with poorly constructed stage directions that could never be staged in a million years and even if they could be staged by some futuristic theatre troupe made of robots and hyper-evolved marmots they JUST AIN’T FUNNY and I’m a horrible excuse for a human being but here’s another self-deprecating comment darnit aren’t I cute GAG please give me love waa waa waa and now I will proceed to disappear into the ether for another interminable length of time and unless I am being held captive in a yurt in Central Asia with an overly affectionate polecat THIS CANNOT GO ON!”

THUS…

I DO DECLARE SEPTEMBER TO BE THE MONTH OF VERBIAGE.

Words. Every day. From me. On this site.

I’m getting off my well-flattened ass.

You have been warned.

I have two days. Much loin-girding will take place.

[Eats protein bar. Chugs energy drink. Firebolts shoot from eyes. The heavens tremble. A couple of Greek gods and a handful of seraphim tumble to Earth. Most of them pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and head back. Dionysus, however, is spotted heading to the nearest Applebee’s.]

…

(And Karen? I do so like you. Don’t you doubt it.)

It’s been seven days since I’ve had a cookie.

It was Tuesday before I had noticed that I had gone so long without precious sustenance. At first it seemed sort of funny, in a “boy, this is sort of funny” kind of way.

But as the days drag on, the Funny-Ha-Ha Levels have dropped far below the Surgeon-General’s recommended minimum daily dosage.

Now… damn. I’m cruising on vapours.

But, without quite realising why, I have made a decision. Hell. I think we can call this a vow.

I will not just go out and get a cookie.

No.

I must wait for the cookie to come to me.

I am now in the hands of Fate, in the loving embrace of Chance, swinging in the hammock of Karma.

Destiny and I are taking a road trip and I just spilled orange pop all over the map.

Kismet and I just broke out of jail and are now on the run through the bayous of Louisiana, handcuffed together and bickering with each other every step of the way.

Sweet Lady Fortune and I have been IMing each other for a while and have finally decided to meet up for coffee but when we get to the coffee shop there seems to be some sort of open mike night going on and when I suggest that maybe we should try the Starbucks down the street she pulls me up on the stage and starts improvising some sort of spoken word piece about the indigenous tribes of Papua New Guinea and giving me significant jump right in any time now, chief looks and I’m furiously writing lines down on a napkin trying to come up with words that rhyme with “Bougainville”.

[Pause.]

Yeeeeeah.

Some cookies better show up pretty damn soon.

[Taps foot nervously. Twitches.]