The Year Of Living Rantily Pt.I

Fuck me!
It's a year to the day since my first post.
Happy birthday, Dive, you crotchety old fucker.

And what a long, strange trip it's been.
A year which has seen old Dive transformed from an, ugly, balding, ranty, middle-aged Marxist with a death wish into an ugly, balding, ranty, middle-aged Marxist with a girlfriend.
Woo, and indeed, hoo.
I just wasted two days of my life spending the weekend reading my archive.
Man, what a total bunch of old wank!
A veritable bukake party of splattery toss.
Into which we shall now dip our sticky fingers …

I was going to do a really long post about my first year in Blogville but to be honest I just can't be arsed.
Instead, I shall inflict industrial levels of boredom on you by spending the next twelve days re-living the past year one month at a time.

So … August 7, 2006: A Small Glass Planet Is Born.
My blog skills don't run to doing that swirly effect where you go back in time so you'll have to make your own.
I won't bore you with my early posts, though for historical purposes here is the first one. Sufficient to say it took a while to discover that it wasn't me writing the blog but some grumpy old bastard called "Dive".

Best bits from August, 2006:

I discovered what children are for, in "Finally, A Use For Children".

And in "The Game Of Scunthorpe", I revealed my astonishing superpower to the world.
Bollocks to "Heroes"; this is the real deal!
And I quote:

"Hey! Superpowers! Yaay!

It has slowly dawned upon me over the decades that I have never once lost a sock in the wash. NEVER! That realisation got me wondering and I've come up with a theory:

Everybody has a superpower.

That's my theory …
I mean, some lucky buggers like Superman and Spidey have fabulous powers; others, like Buffy or The Shoveller, have lesser, but still rather super powers.
I now believe - after much observation and several drinks - that we ALL have a superpower, but it's up to us to discover just what that superpower is.
It turns out that mine is the power to NEVER lose a sock in the wash.
So maybe it won't save the world, but in its own small way, I have found it both useful and comforting.

If you have discovered your superpower, please let me know (comments box again). Perhaps we could form a group of very minor superheroes who could pack up some sandwiches and a nice thermos of tea, take a bus somewhere and help someone in a trivial but comforting way.
"Here are your socks, ma'am."

And we could dress up and wear capes!"

In "Dinosaurs", I let slip why I had been celibate since middle-age crept up and mugged me:

"It's probably too late to enjoy the rest of this life anyway. I mean, I'm an ugly, balding guy in my late forties, yet I can't even date ugly, balding, women …
Well I probably could. What usually stops me is a grimly hilarious but un-erotic vision of two middle-aged people entwined in the throes of passion, bellowing and thrashing like a couple of dinosaurs drowning in a swamp …

How the fuck do middle-aged people … er, fuck?
Answers on a postcard, but please, not to me …"

And with "The Truth About Everything" I finally came up with a post I was happy with. So you can blame that one for all that has assailed you since.

So …
That was August, 2006.
A whole year of typing complete arse into a computer.
Back then of course, my readership consisted solely of the wonderful Peahen.
But as the months crawled by Blogville gradually emerged, so over the coming days I will be including the "best of the comments" for each month, too.

Tomorrow: September, 2006; a post you can't fail to miss.
er …