I didn't even check to see the last time I had written anything for fear that I would die of shame. But I shall endeavour to do better in the future, if only to keep writing.
At this very moment I am sitting in a somewhat ghetto pub called the Rose and Crown (shhh... don't tell Scallywags I'm cheating on it today) being totally ignored by the waitress. By now, I should have already finished the breakfast I've been ready to order for the last half hour, and possibly halfway through a pint of beer. But instead I have an empty glass of water in front of me, with no sign if that being remedied anytime soon. I could say something of course, but then I'd have nothing to moan about and then what would be the point?
To make matters worse, New Zealand is losing to South Africa. And if the commentator doesn't stop nattering on about how brilliant the Spring Boks are playing (he's right of course. The All Blacks are playing like sh*t),I'm going to throw my empty glass at the projector.
This would effectively accomplish a few things. The first being that I there would no longer be a game showing, and therefore no commentary. And secondly, and perhaps more important, the waitress might notice I exist. Yes, I'd be thrown out and probably held liable for damages, but the possibility of food might just make it all worth it in the end.