OK folks it's hit the shelves. I've spoken to both Waterstones and Borders and copies are now available. Even Amazon will send your copy or copies well before you get out that old plastic Christmas tree and decorations.
Amazon's synopsis of “2005 Blogged-Despatches from the Blogoshere” includes this:
" a complete round up of the way the blogging community covered the major events of the year. Featuring the very best writing from the rising stars of online journalism, this is by far the most entertaining and opinionated guide to 2005.
Well I’m not arguing with that.
This is from Scaryduck, who was brave enough to share with the world his vasectomy. He was unfortunate enough for the NHS to arrange his op the day after the St Diana passed over. He found his local hospital like a ghost ship. And the gonad surgeon , Dr Morris, whacking somebody else's balls about.
“It was Monday morning. Princess Diana had forgotten to do up her seatbelt the previous Saturday evening, metamorphosing from “Sex-Crazed Royal Tart flounces round Paris with Egyptian Boyfriend” in the early editions of Sunday’s papers to “We’ll Never Forget You, Princess of all our Hearts” by the following lunchtime. The entire hospital staff was allowed the day off to go and have a good cry over it.
“Even Dr Norris?” I asked.
“Especially Dr Norris”, she replied, “Though I suspect he’ll be remembering Diana with eighteen holes of golf.”
I took to my heels and ran, Mrs Scary struggling to keep up. I got out of the hospital building, and kept running until I reached the car. My gonads were safe. Dr Norris was hacking about with his mashie niblick on the golf course instead of hacking away at my crown jewels. I jumped into the car and sped away, never to return. Except to go back and pick up Mrs Scary.
After all the national grieving, the crying, the media hyperbole and the fucking awful Elton John song, I feel the time has come to finally pay my respects to Her Royal Highness Princess Diana of Wales, who died saving orphans, poor people, kittens an’ stuff: God bless ya, Your Highness, you saved my bollocks! A fitting tribute to a great, great woman. It’s what she would have wanted.
There is some serious stuff in the collection, but still well worth the six quid.