Eight Hundred And Fifty Two?

This is one of those posts where I blather on about nothing in particular, spinning random threads of consciousness and hoping they all come together at the end to make something whole. If that doesn't happen, then of course the Quirky Muffin will be deducted five points by the judges, if they're not on holiday in Istanbul or guzzling chocolates in their secret mountaintop headquarters, that is. You can never really trust judges to be where you want them to be, especially if they take their inspiration from Baron Greenback.

You weren't expecting sense, were you? Really?

It has been a silly few days, with a multiplicity, or even a plenitude, of free days that could be used to catch up on Open University work and recharge the batteries. In fact, it has been a week with four days off, which hasn't happened in a very long time. You might think being a private tutor is an easy job, but those accumulated hours of talking steadily, explaining and breaking down concepts, and maintaining concentration and attention throughout, do wear on you after a while. It's nice to be able to be quiet and introspective, and get beaten by 'Thunderbirds' repeatedly. I must be playing it wrong, or be terrible at logistics, or be terribly unlucky. A review will be forthcoming, once some non-solitaire playthroughs have been done. It may just be that the fun of being able to move around Thunderbird 4 has gone to the head.

A plan has now been hatched for the conclusion of 'The Ninja Of Health', Hurrah! It can take ages to come up with even unimaginative ways to end stories, so it's a relief to have some idea of what to aim for. Yes, you might rightly say that it would be the better idea to know what you're aiming for from the very beginning, but that's never really been the point of the Quirky Muffin. This weblog is, above all, an experiment. It's not meant to be super-readable, or maybe even read at all. If you do read, then thank you kindly. The main objective is to work out if this cranky writer can do anything interesting with the words that clutter up his head. Hmm. Head clutter words fish banana spoon hockey.

It has been a great experiment so far. Yes, a lot of the reviews end up being qualified into almost complete banality, and the stories go through long and awkward stalling patterns sometimes, but it's still fun to write. Sometimes there's a fascinating word of the day, and sometimes a touch of philosophy will creep in. Politics is banned once again, if only because we are now in the decline of civilization as we know it, and the corporate barbarians are now well past the gate and eating our ice cream. More will follow in the same vein as this and the previous eight hundred and fifty one (!) posts, in the coming days. For now, it is time to bed down and read something comforting.

Welcome to the Quirky Muffin, and good night.

O.