Thursday, May 19, 2005

grand pop vox

My son Finn gave me a blog for my 61st birthday. A potent present: Here dad, start a conversation with the world. Write & publish & connect. Doggone it! Why has the cat got my tongue?
Got a virtual soapbox grand poppa, git up & rant. World wide extension of vox & plenty of nuttin in the brain box.
Blogfright!
Loosen yr talktapes man. Kick off with few thankees. With my fingers. Must get into the touch typing. Stop talking to yrself.
Thanks Finn. Normous Ill get into the swing of it. So many Qs. What are quicktags, wot are pings, customfields? Who are all these nerds I dont know I find when I press Links. How do I build up the network of conversers are you receiving me…?
Thanks Laura bd wishes & Don Camillo illumination. Ever read the books of Don Marquis: Archie & Mehitabel, a cockroach & a cat? Might humour you. Youre right about preserving ones mirth. Got to stop that ol’ 32ft per sec per sec going down
Thankee Shannish for the memory resurrecting freeverse - but will you look @ the time? 1153. Time to catch the train & lunch with Corrigan & keep my appt with The Dermatologist…

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

shall have to be mine own commentariat
noose halter lassoe & labial lariat
watchercallit feedback loopy de loop

Finn said...

Good to see you’re using it!

Anonymous said...

I am overwhelmed by the stream of brilliant text and technological tools -how do I know if my meagre crumbs of comments have been successfully received into this b(rave) new world in which a mushy-minded pregnant woman feels a little out of her depth?

Finn said...

Not Mushy-minded at all. I think maybe the pregnant woman’s mind is one of the clearest minds of all! Thanks for the hot chocolate last night!