Alright, internet, you win. At some point in the near future, I'll get a blog set up. Hopefully to be managed by someone else, so's Drunk Heather cannot access it... Before that, however, I think some basic blog ground-ruiles should be set up. That way, you can't say I didn't warn you...
The Rules of the Blog:
1) I, the reader, understand that Heather, the writer, will probably offend me at some point. It’s the one thing she’s truly good at. In the case of my being offended, I promise not to go into paroxysms of capitalised commenting. This, for example, shall not be accepted:
BLOG: ‘...Thomas O’Malley had cat AIDS...’
READER: ‘OMG I can’t believe u said that my DAD DIED of cat AIDS so I find that SOOOO offensive u are an evil bitch and I’m telling on you...’
I, the reader, accept the deal offered to me by Heather, the writer, whereby she gets to be as offensive as she pleases and I get to not complain about it. Because if I do complain, well, Heather will feel very guilty about it and will try to nicey up the blog. And that will be no fun at all.
2) I, the reader, promise that if I am offended by frequent use of the F word, occasional use of the C word, and pepperings of the K, J, and V words (don’t know what the K, J and V words are? Stay tuned to find out!), then I shall either man the fuck up (thus it begins...) and deal with it, or I shall cease reading.
3) I, the reader, understand that Heather, the writer, is now, and ever shall be, a liar. I shall take nothing she says seriously.
4) In the event that I, the reader, am Cornish, I promise not to put into action my plot to destroy all coal-bearing land with terrible weapons made of tin and powered by Trevithick’s steam engine. I also promise not to reveal any plans that Heather, the writer, may outline within this blog to stick a massive electrified fence along the Tamar, and turn Cornwall into Cretaceous Park (the Cretaceous containing triceratopses – an essential for any dinosaur safari). I also understand that any anti-Cornish sentiment within this blog is in jest, and am willing to testify as such in the event that Heather, the writer, goes to court for the above.
5) Occasionally, this will happen:
BLOG: ‘Nyuuuuurrrrgh I’m so faaaaat and uuuuggllleeee and shit at eeeeveeeryyythiiiiiiing wurblewurblewhiiinnneee...’
When this occurs, I, the reader, promise to seek out Heather, the writer, and smack her about the face until she stops burdening everyone else with her insecurities.
6) I, the reader, understand that by reading this blog I am offering my services to Heather, the writer, and may be called upon to aid her in her dastardly cause. Maybe not today. Almost certainly not tomorrow. Perhaps not ever. But someday it may happen that I shall receive the sign (and when I see it, I shall know it). In this event, I shall travel immediately for the Isle of Samson, and await my instructions.
7) Heather, the writer, has been told that a blog post should be around 500 words. Consequently, should the 500 word limit be breached, the blog shall be abruptly