Well, here we are. The second to last weekly update. If you are new here, I am doing 100 posts in 100 days. Or roughly 100 days. I was also trying to get 60 000 views in those hundred days, but that’s not going to happen, so I’m going to take a page from the book of the politicians. I’m going to radically shift the goalposts, and then claim overwhelming success. I’m now going for 30000 views in 100 posts.
So how’s it going? Swimmingly. In light of my revised goals, I’m a superstar. Since I revised my goal to one I had already achieved, it’s all downhill from here. Being a politician rocks!
And the writing? Well, that’s another story. I missed a day. Friday. Women’s day. I could lie to you. I could say that I have such deep respect and admiration for women that I refuse to work on their special day. This would be a lie. Not the respect and admiration part; I respect and admire all of the things I fear. The refusal to work part.
I could lie and say that I couldn’t write a post because I had effectively injected liquid cement into the tips of my fingers, and couldn’t type without crying. This would, like all good lies, be partially true. I had effectively injected liquid cement into the tips of my fingers, and typing made me cry like a particularly whiny baby. But where I come from, you get no sympathy for the results of your own stupidity.
The truth is, I was coping with being South African. We had a party on Friday. Some friends came round for lunch, and we had a ball. And then I should have settled down to write my post. Instead I settled down for a glass of wine with Mrs 23thorns. We all know what the road to hell is paved with.
We were not doing this for fun, though. When you live in a place as occasionally horrifying as South Africa, you sometimes need to take a few hours to talk the world apart and then talk it back together again, just to keep it all in perspective. Wine helps.
When I wasn’t skiving out of posts, I wrote about sexually complicated fish and American mayoral candidates. I wrote about Frankenstein’s hamburger and about a white Zulu from the 80’s and what he meant to us. And I wrote about a strange bird and a strange neighbour.
And now the countdown begins. Nine to go. And on that note, here’s today’s vote;