"Trekkies?" I offer, praying they don't just think it's a posh pronunciation for chavpants, "No, they're real enough." I leave off the unimportant information that I web-log on an almost daily basis. No point in painting yourself into a corner.
"What's the point of them?" they demand to know.
And I respond firmly,"Umm..."
A silence descends while we each ponder the uppers of our footwear or explore the waxiness of our ears. A few undignified seconds tick away before somebody breaks the impasse.
"Must be, you know, things to,er..."
"Of course. Bye then."
So, the blogger lives to blog again. What do we do and more to the point, why do we do it? Who cares, but just in case you think we really are denizens of a nether world or bots that auto assemble blog content, here's a tiny glimpse into my own personal hell. This has been produced under duress, I'll have you know and every expense has been spared. Warning! If you blink you'll probably miss it!