Near Death Experience

So I'm thinking to myself "You've started the Bloody thing, you've gotta put something on there, it looks pathetic" but having no clue what cos I lead such a fucking dull life, when it occurs to me that I could talk about my near death experience of a few days ago.

I'm walking home from the shop right, with a carrier bag in one hand and a pizza in the other when I come to the junction of death. This junctio, Christ, you've seen nowt like it.How it's never been on BRITAINS DEADLIEST ROADS or some other pile of shite of that ilk that ITV pass off as television these days I'll never know. It kind of tapers to a point where two roads converge but it's fed by 2 other side roads and the footpath kind of narrows down to nothing 10ft before the corner so you're essentially forced to walk across 4 lanes with cars coming from all sides.

Anyway, I'm lucky enough to get there at the same time time as a couple of cars that actualy treat it like a junction and not some training course for their F1 dreams and so they actually slow to a stop. The second car is actually driven by the girl who served me in the pizza shop 5 mins previously. A smile and a nod and a wave and she's gesturing me across in front of her. Now what happened next was totally my own fault. I was so engrossed in giving her a nod of thanks and moving quickly to get out of her way sooner that I never thought to check for traffic coming the other way. Schoolboy error, totally my fault, no-one to blame but myself. Came within inches of being splatted. Only a very graceful (though I say so myself) little hop and spin saved me from oblivion. And kept my pizza level as well, for good measure.

Now the guy in the car had stopped and he had his windows down so I thought fairs fair I'll apologise. Wish I'd not bothered now. Hand gestures and cursing and snarled threats of violence were the response to my " sorry mate, my fault".

Now, as I say,I was in the wrong. I apologised. I thought that would be the end of it. When it wasn't I saw a little red. and gave as good as I got in the old cursing stakes. Normally I'm a craven fucking coward so I suppose the adrenaline must have kicked in. Never acted with a spine before, hope it doesn't become a habit.

So there you have it. My NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE in which I almost talked myself into being kicked to Death by a road rage psycho.

Pizza tasted lovely when I got home.

What the hell do you put in these things?

So, it's the middle of the night, I'm bored, and I spot a link on a website I frequent that apparently takes you to a place to set up a blog. It's free and it's easy. The "free" appeals to the newly unemployed dole scrounger in me and the "easy" appeals to the barely computer literate part of me that isn't even entirely sure that it knows what a blog is, exactly. What the hell, I think, it'll kill 5 minutes.

After a partcularly tricky patch were the password I use for everything can't be used for this and then another tense moment of introspection when I actually have to name the bloody thing, I'm in. I have a blog.

Which brings me back to my initial problem of not knowing precisely what a blog is. What do I do now? There's a big white square, waiting for me to fill it with something. Anything. And I've got nothing to say. The few blogs I've looked at in the past have had a point, a theme, a reason to exist. They've been by artists and writers and people critiquing artists and writers. I'm none of those things (except in my wildest fantasies where I'm an award winning tv/comic scriptwriter) so what do I type?

Waffle, as it turns out.

Well, there you have it. My very first post on my very own blog. Whoda thunk it? Might be back tomorrow, might not. See ya