...and [click], you're back in the room

Conscience is a funny thing. It's not really, it's essentially guilt thus is rubbish, but of all personality defects, it is one of the more curious. You see, over the last month every time I have stumbled onto the internet and not thought "there's porn here..." I have had a voice in my head saying "you really ought to look for somewhere to live". On the rare occasion that thought wasn't stabbed in the ribs by the voice saying "there's porn here..." I have been doing just that, therefore my bloglets have been like Michael Barrymore's charm: absent. I have now found somewhere to live (hooray) so we're back together again. Hug anyone? No? Oh come on, it's not gay if there's no cupping.