Profoundest apologies

Protective gear and tongs are required to "work" within MySpace--Institute reseacher (depicted above) prepares to view the day's MySpace "bulletins"

Firstums: a note specifically to the well-missed ERIN who is ambling about (dazed by aboriginal didgeridoos, no doubt) in the endless wastelands of Aust-Railyard. Please get in touch--via the MySpacery most directly; a confirmation of your well-being and an update on your life-proceedings is yearned for.

To the loyal reader or two (research indicates a ghost-lyke third is lurking somewhere) who has shown interest in the varied blatherings endemic to this thing-called-a-blog, the activity--so much as it may be described as such--has moved elsewhere, although there is a gravitational tug back to this more dignified (albeit less read) site that may eventually be acknowledged and acted upon.

Ideally, we would rather lure the scruffy MySpace-cadets here, rather than trans-versa.

This below link will whisk you to the somewhat gnarled, tacky and contentiousness-riddled Interknittal faeryworld of MySpace.

http://www.myspace.com/62742814

Further, a touch upon the eponymous ikon within my "Friends" corral will haul your hinder straightaways to my daughter's kindlier and gentlier virtuality. I am simply too desultory at the moment to track-down her, as you so quaintly place it, "You-are-El."

A note too on this "Google" transference. Clearly this is yet another "Urth" corporate shell-game and we here at the Institute were rather put off by the grandiloquent Persian Market-lyke promises of breath-captivating improvements to this bloggery. They have tweaked the fonts and wrangled with the colours to provide the faintest illusions of progressiveness.

Insulting to say the least.

A test of the new system

How annoyance-inducing