...haven't yet been entirely successful in extricating myself from The Edge Of The World, and replanting myself in The City, the same is true of my doings in the blogosphere. My migration to Vox has been hampered slightly by a certain amount of influential shirt-tugging. I'm not sure if this is life imitating art, or - to use proper intermcweb vernacular - blart imitating IRL. Here's a snippet of a conversation I had yesterday :
Busty Farm Girl : Why aren't you blogging ?
Lemonsquash : I am!
Busty Farm Girl : You've hardly put anything up recently.
Lemonsquash : Have you checked the other blog ?
Busty Farm Girl : No. It's shit. I like *this* blog.
This is because Busty Farm Girl likes reading about herself, and revels in the praise that she occasionally receives in the comments (I've said it before - please don't encourage her).
Anyway, just so it seems like this blog is ticking over, here's an email I received from Lemonbrother this morning :
> Arse.
>
> My wife crashed into a hedge this morning after she'd said "I passed
> my test in the snow, of course I am OK driving".
>
>
>
>
> Ha!
It would seem that it snowed, then.
