Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa

I am rather unnerved, slightly abashed, nervously shocked and grievously horrified, to say nothing about quite how smacked my gob is, to realise that, having founded this blog in all good faith at the beginning of the year, I have been rather more lax with its regular updating than Gordon Brown has been with all of our money. I should be ashamed for letting myself down so horrendously. I shall take my feeble body and clearly lazier-than-it-should-be mind off to the headmaster's study for a swish or two of the old cane. It's clear that I deserve it. Things such as this should not go unpunished.

Of course, the wholesale de-moralisation of society starts like this. It begins, innocently enough, with someone not filling in their diary as regularly as they should, goes through people putting their feet on seats on the train, playing their iPods too loudly, chewing noisily in public, and, before you know it, the yoofs are out there wearing ludicrously baggy sportswear, ridiculous hats and knifing innocent passers-by simply for "looking at me funny, like". It's a slippery slope, folks. Mark my words.

Anyway, that's all rather a long-winded way of saying that I'm going to be much more diligent in future about recording my thoughts, travails, moans, winges, delights and other detritus that this gin-soaked nous of mine occasionally dribbles forth when it is its whim.

So, until the next posting (which will, I hope, be sooner rather than later), as the Greeks say, αντίο.