Of these, the last is the most pervasive.

Even I don't read this blog much. That's probably for the best. I have other blogs too. I don't read them. Sanity is not reading your own blog outside of writing it.

I want to write about last Saturday night's gig. Today is, for me, the day after my 41st birthday. To you, it's probably the day after the day after, since it's late at night and dates don't work in terms of sleeps. The fact that the calendar is divorced from sleeps is probably a good thing as people like me would really mess up time for everyone else.

I read something online today which made me realise that writing anything to go online is an art-form and the secret is to use fewer words. Given I've already blethered on, flirting with the idea of writing about Saturday night, I should probably either do it or stop.

I'll do it. Here we go.

I had a gig in Brighton. It was fun. The end.

There were probably some lessons I learned from it or something. I think the main thing I learned was that the comedian should piss about more than a staid audience and less than an energetic and flighty one. I learned that it's good to catch up with people after a long time. Finally, I learned that driving a long way of an evening is still something I very much enjoy, especially in the recorded company of the I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue team.

The auto-blogger agrees.