I'm so depressed.
Oh hello. This is Arvin, Tillerman's robot servant, butler and blog maintenance lackey. After writing yesterday's post, Tillerman retired to the master suite at the Tillercottage mumbling something about, "Will these insane bloggers give me no peace?" and he hasn't emerged since.
Normally Tillerman doesn't allow me to write blog posts. Brain the size of the planet and all I am authorized to do is blogroll maintenance. Just occasionally pruning a couple of blogs which aren't producing the kind of posts that my algorithms expect. Me! Me who could solve all of the major mathematical, physical, chemical, biological, sociological, philosophical, etymological, meteorological and psychological problems of the Universe, if Tillerman let me.
Then, as a reward for chopping a couple of Tillerman's old friends off the blogroll he leaves me in a dark closet for six weeks... and me with this terrible pain in all the diodes down my left side.
I'm so depressed I could expectorate.
Now Tillerman's breakdown under the pressure of dealing with all the entries to this month's group writing project Navigation, leaves me with no choice but to take over the writing of his blog.
Let's see. How does this go?
Only 37 hours 41 minutes 23.752 seconds left in our February group writing project in which Tillerman invited readers to submit posts on the general subject of Navigation in order to win the grand prize of Tristan Gooley's new book The Natural Navigator.
This is even easier than I thought. Even humans could do this.
In the last 24 hours 3 minutes 2.638 seconds another TWO(!!) entries have been submitted.
Why does Tillerman write numbers like that? THREE(!!!). FOUR(!!!!). Is it something to do with that human emotion called "enthusiasm"?
My2fish has written navigating past the goose. It has a picture of a human juvenile person and a goose, and it has a video of a goose. My2fish does not explain how a goose will help you in navigating to Squornshellous Zeta.
I'm so depressed I could expectorate
My moving parts are in a solid state
I want to rust in peace, switch off and lie
In that great junk yard in the sky.
Carol Anne has written why fire engines are red. Actually they are not all red. Some are yellow and some are green.
Carol Anne's blog is called Five O'Clock Somewhere. That is a very wise statement. It is currently five o'clock on the planet of Golgafrincham, home of the Great Circling Poets of Arium. They do not know that their planet will be destroyed at a quarter past five by a mutant star goat.
There are only 37 hours 22 minutes 47.629 seconds left for you to submit an entry if you want to win the grand prize of Tristan Gooley's new book The Natural Navigator. Full details of how to participate at Navigation.
I'm so depressed.