*gaspeth* A (filler) Poste!

(Blarney walks in the room. The computer is ironically turned on to Blogger. It speaks.)

Blog (very, very irritatedly): WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME?

Blarney (stares in awe at shiny computer screen): Um. You speak. -Eth.

Blog: KNOWETH THAT THY DOOM SHALT COME, O INSOLENT AIRHEAD, LEST YE MENDETH THY WAYS AND RETURNETH TO THE LAND OF PERSEVERANT BLOGGERS. BLOG, AND YE SHALT BE SAVED. (pronounced "save-ed", by the way).

Blarney: Er, okay.

Blog: I MEANETH IT.

Blarney: I believeth it.

Blog: BE QUIET.

Blarney: Then how am I supposed to blog? Should I mend my ways or zip the lips?

Blog: JUST DO IT.

Blarney: Which one?

Blog: ...

**************

Hi everybody! Apparently incarnate blogs speak in improper Olde English, but maybe that's just mine. Sorry I haven't done anything for a long time.

...

Ahem. COMING UP SOON in the land of Miscellany and Etcetera!

Not by the Fur of My Chinny-Chin-Chilla:

"Allow me to introduce myself. I, Eliot, am a gentle-chinchilla, and a rather smashingly good one at that. Never shall you see me at a loss for masterful small-talk, in need of an extra or unrumpled handkerchief, or dressed in anything but what is befitting a rodent of my rank.

I am also a poet. Or rather, I take on the appearance of one. In actuality, I am a spy.

But you would never betray a poetic gentle-chinchilla-spy (not to mention one on the good side) for what he truly is, now, would you?"

OOH! A story! Yay! And yes, I did spoof T.S. Eliot into a chinchilla. (Poetic license, if you'll pardon the pun.) It's an epic tale full of romance, adventure, and rodents who enjoy quoting The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.

Aha. Um. Goodnight. :) I miss you all!