What makes blogs shit is when bloggers keep on posting even when they've got nothing to say.
What makes blogging shit is when bloggers have got lots to say but, because they try to be decent and tactful people, they don't blog about it.
'Twas ever thus.
These past few days I have spent a lot of time with family members near and wide. It has been mostly very good. Today was particularly good. I have heard stories mad, sad, fantastic and true.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I have been trying to compile a tree-like plan of the Nelly family right down to Miss Martha's third cousins. This has entailed much cyber-stalking and looking at photographs of friends and friends of friends on Facebook. I have discovered a number of things. One is that boys are much less likely than girls to concern themselves about privacy and another is that I have a lot of young (mostly) female cousins who pose seductively in their temptressy going out outfits right in front of pictures of the Sacred Heart. Mind you that is an improvement on the cousins who posed in short sequins and cleavage against a background of mops and buckets and other kitchen squalor.
Another thing I found is that more than a dozen of my young relatives are excellent sportsmen and sportswomen within the Gaelic sphere. Which brought to mind a comment my naughty cousin J. made today. He spoke of a young neighbour lad who was that good at hurling that he ought to be put out to stud. I couldn't help saying that I had many young female relatives who should, for the sake of the GAA, be introduced to him.
Yes. I know I'm an eedjit. But as someone once said, and on a very special day, at least not a boring bastard.