Five minutes of your time...

...is all it takes to read and digest some expectoration of spit and mucus from the text nose that is the personal diaries of 1 million (or so) lonely bloggers, punting their hopes and fears, cheese and smears on the river. The shit in the river is different everyday, and if, in some small way, I can contribute to that existential howling flow, then I have achieved a goal.

and that is all internal alliteration, or something

well, it scans, and that's good enough

for me

See what I did there? With the iambic thing?

Fuck! I've just realised

that's blank verse