The Post That Never Was.

I’ve been trying to think of something to post about, and I can’t. I feel brain dead tonight. If this is what three days of gardening does for you, maybe I should revert to making scale models of the world’s great buildings using cereal packets, glue and glitter.

I considered making a post with the title ‘Perverted Sex.’ Not that I have any experience in such matters, or any opinion on it come to that, I just thought it would be amusing to see how many visitors I got from Google searches. But what would I say on a subject in which I have no interest, about which I know nothing, and whose very definition eludes me? And then it occurred to me that there might be a lot of poor souls out there suffering under the suspicion that their unconventional proclivities could be herding them on a train bound for the fires of hell. They might end up on my blog seeking support at least, if not some form of enlightenment. Or even new ideas! And then they’d be very disappointed, and that wouldn’t be fair. So I didn’t.

In considering it, however, I did have a little light bulb moment of my own. It’s always been a mystery to me why I chose to learn the trombone at school. I think I might know now.