Happy 100th

100 posts. Who would have thought it? A small milestone in the life of May Contain Nuts. And you can blame R J Ellory (excuse me while I shamelessly name-drop). ‘Twas he who commented after I sent him an email that I would be good at blogging. Before the words had settled in that space other people might call a brain, I was off and blog-running.

The picture above (BTW, ignore the words) is there... just because, if you must ask. Besides I promised Bill Kirton. Between you and me he has a fixation. This is me whispering << the man needs help>>. I, on the other hand? I am much more civilised. You’ll barely notice me staring.

In the interests of equality I should have something for the ladies. I am very interested in equality, but much less interested in the male torso, so if you want a cheap thrill girls you’ll have to go elsewhere.

Anyway, where was I? Yes. Blogging. It’s mad innit? You free-write all this nonsense – spew forth the unedited and only slightly fictionalised (that’s my get-out clause and you’ll just have to guess which parts are made up, if any) contents of your brain and call it that strange mono-syllablic word. A blog.

I started off without much of a plan. I would just write stuff about the things I cared about, like books, movies, writing and my family and see what happened.

And what happened was a shitload of fun. Well it was for me. Oh, how I laugh. And I got all these people coming to read words wot I wrote. People have popped in from places as diverse as Brazil, Denmark, Indonesia, Khazakzstan, Greece (Hi, Sarah), North America... and I could go on. But I won’t. Being a modest kinda chap.

Talking about family, the wee fella could care less that I write about him. I let him see one of our conversations that I had relayed to my (worldwide – get me) audience.

-right. OK, he said barely lifting his sightline away from Spongebob who was chasing Patrick the starfish across the TV screen.

- I don’t want you to think that I’m talking about you behind your back.

-um, ehm, right, OK. He grins at the telly.

-and I’m doing it from a position of love.

-right, Dad. I get it...He has that tone (his mother’s). He looks over and that photo attracts his attention. He looks at me – you’re obsessed, he says and goes back to the TV.

I also tried to make sure that the Queen of Chaos knew what I was doing to her good name. She doesn't have a P.C. so I opened up the blog online to let her read it. She got as far as me describing her as gorgeous and fun... and then she asked if she could google her latest ailment.

I try, dear reader, I try.

What else has happened is that I’ve made some new pals. OK, they are distributed all over the globe (see earlier comments about WORLDWIDE audience) but hey, nice people invite me, briefly into their lives and react to words wot I write. Ordinary people across the world making a connection. 

Way. Beyond. Cool.

I had thought about having a party and offering you all wine and cake, but I find virtual wine to be a tad on the dry side and the cake to be a wee bitty plain. I do feel we should not allow this moment to pass without pause. So, to celebrate our tiny space on that giant gibbering mass that is the worldwide web, I’m inviting you to leave me a comment. About anything. Something random. An unknown fact about you. This is especially for those of you out there who regularly read the post and then pass on...you know who you are...as silent and wordless as a silent and wordless thing.

Don’t be giving me that old chestnut ... adopts woe- is- me tone ...“I can’t work out how to do it”. Just leave me a frickin’ message, ok?

Then you can go back to doing the silent and wordless thing if you want.

100 posts. Go me. Yay us.