Talking avatars
Grandad February 23rd, 2009
I was going to apologise for not posting yesterday, in case any of you were hanging around waiting for me.
But then I decided that if you were sad and lonely enough to be waiting for my rantings then you deserve to be disappointed.
It was a bit of a hectic weekend, as we travelled down to some place called Cork for the blog awards.
It was a surreal experience because, as we all know, bloggers don’t really exist – they are just comments that appear on my site and pages on my feed reader.
So the hotel was full of talking avatars.
I met 
who I recognised immediately.
Then there was 
and 
.
Of course, who could miss 
.
was much in evidence, as was 
was difficult to track down, but I recognised him by the green background.
did a brilliant job of organising the whole thing as usual.
There were dozens of others most of whom I remember, some of whom I forget, some of whom I can’t remember even though I want to and others I can’t forget no matter how hard I try.
Avatars kept coming up to me saying “Howya Grandad!” which was nice, though I don’t know how they knew I was me. I don’t know who I am half the time.
It was that kind of weekend.
Of course our K8 won the gong for Best Blogpost which I think was a very sound decision on the part of the judges.
In the meantime, The Irish Times called me a cunt.
But then I read it again, and I realised they had written ‘cult’. My fault. I must change these glasses.
Herself is delighted at that and is now shimmering around the house in a saffron robe chanting something about Harry Crishna, whoever he is.
I asked her if I was entitled to a few extra wives and she said I could have as many as I like as long as they don’t get under her feet.
I took the liberty of secretly recording that conversation, and my solicitor now has a copy, just in case.
I had a great weekend.
But now I think I’ll have a well earned nap.
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