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Friday, May 21, 2004

A Look Toid The Future

I shift in my seat uncomfortably. One day, I think, this handphone is going to stick to the side of my face and I'll need to have it surgically removed.

"Your blog," Honey B continues ominously, her crisp English accent biting out words as though she were taking chunks out of a apple, "is reading and looking more and more like a blog."

"Is that a bad thing?" I ask, fearing she is about to swallow me, pips and all.

"Well it's no longer for me, is it," she bites back, even more ominously. "It's lost a certain-"

"Je ne sais quoi?" I interject helpfully.

"Yes pussy cat. It reads more like a blog now...you are writing to some unknown, rather than to me or to yourself. Read from the beginning and see for yourself."

"I don't agree B. Or I didn't set out for that. I started it to answer your question, and I guess I just realised that the answer won't be in one post, but it'll be in there, just all over the place."

"Hmm, I wonder if it's some kind of blogger disease?" she continues, ignoring me completely. "You know, it becomes addictive and takes you over and that's why all bloggers sound alike..?"

"You make me sound like a geek."

"You are a geek, but an extremely loveable one. Sexy, too. But, I thought your blog could have evolved into something more wonderful..."

"Like what," I snort. "Letters to B, perhaps?"

"Exactly!"

"You're sounding like a major A-class witch B, which is a shame because I know you're not one."

"Shit, even when you swear you sound like a gentleman."

"Be thankful you've got some breeding to tell the difference."

"Aw, bite me," she says, reverting to some dark instinct that makes her go all Americana, "and bite me hard."

"Love to," I reply, gnashing my teeth over the phone. "Where?"

"Don't bother, it'll stain your teeth. Battery acid."

"Man you should write for Maddox."

"Maddox is a pussy cat. And note there should be a comma before cat."

"Hey, if the blog stays, it'll grow. I'm just a conductor." Why I wonder, does a person's RP get stronger as they get more pissed off? Can anyone tell me?

"Hmm well we'll see...but I'll bet you'll write this conversation in that blogger way, too."

Damn. She got me.

"Okay, Big Sister," I finally surrender the conversation. "I know you're watching me. I hear you loud and clear. But what the future holds for this blog is anybody's guess. For me, it'll be anything goes."

A good friendship is a strange thing. A crazy, silly, beautiful thing. A good friendship is knowing you can throw arrows at the one you love, because you're their armour anyway.

"You're a stupid arse," she replies back, although it seems more to my thoughts than to what I actually said.

"Then kiss it B," I laugh.

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