I propose a new blogging standard: Franzy's Law states that referring to one's own blog or blogging activities as a "rant" or "ranting" shall designate the author incapable of expressing ideas without resorting to violence or anger and thus the kind of person not really worth reading until they can calm down and relate their ideas properly without shouting or "talking foolishly".

The phrase "wrong on so many levels" is only used by people who, when pressed, won't be able to come up with more than a few levels of wrongness and are, unsurprisingly, also the kind of people who are more likely to confuse "few" with "many".

I wonder if there is a definitive point at which the damage done by the immediate stress of needing something you have thrown away outweighs the effects of the residual stress resulting from keeping some useless piece of crap, moving it from house to house, arguing over its possible value, defending it from efficient loved ones and finding ever larger spaces in which to store it, all the while convincing yourself that some day 46 pillowcases might just come in handy.

I wonder if blogging has genuinely helped a generation to communicate its feelings, thoughts and emotions more succinctly or whether it has now become acceptable to simply hyphenate a long stream-of-consciousness descriptive passage in an I'm-really-enthusiastic-about-writing-and-want-to-appear-creative-and-intelligent-but-can't-quite-bring-myself-to-go-to-all-the-trouble-of-thinking-of-an-appropriate-metaphor-or-even-a-simile-when-I-can-simply-diarise-whatever-I'm-thinking-without-filters-or-editing-or-snipping-of-tangents-while-still-throwing-in-a-few-pop-culturally-acceptable-but-still-cool-and-quirky-as-the-comeback-of-the-cowbell-references-which-prove-that-this-is-really-the-only-path-towards-clear-written-expression-that-English-teachers-and-politicians-hope-for-in-the-yoof-ov-2day-which-isn't-splattered-with-textlish-and-smiley-faces-and-so-will-have-to-do-until-someone-can-work-out-a-way-of-making-spending-a-week-producing-a-single-metaphor-into-an-immediately-pleasurable-exercise kind of way in order to convey one's thoughts.

I know I'm getting old when the latest fashions seem as hilarious to me now as looking at photos of myself in happy pants at age twelve.

I know the Domino's Cheaper Tuesday commercial is supposed to make me want to buy shithouse pizzas but for some reason it sends me straight to Google.