Today would have given you a new post, a post that would have shown you a new and interesting way of looking at Urban Outlaw.
I. Am. An. Idiot.
Instead of making sure that everything is backed up nicely, cutted (that is a word) and pasted to the general applause of all, I instead trusted my work to the ‘save’ draft option of WordPress.
Today’s work is gone.
Do you know what I did? Clearly, I’m going tell you.
I very nearly (although not from want of trying) reduced my router into tiny, as yet undiscovered, particles. I then proceeded to grab the foot of my very lovely iron framed bed and shake it until the wall it backs onto suffered from indentations here to for not impressed on that unblamed and unknowing wall before. I then played Aphex Twin loudly.
I proceeded to shout various unrepeatable words that, if the mood would take them, my neighbours, anyone who owns a working pair of ears who happened to walk up a nice looking street in spa Cheltenham, and possibly the lovely family of peregrine falcons who have take residence on that nice little church up the road could share with your possibly lovely and unblemished minds.
I then went down the pub where I consumed several pints of beer. And ogled the bar staff. I recommend The Railway.
I promise to bring you this full essay and report next week because, as it may have become clear by this point, I am now pissed.