I've been flicking through other blogs - I should n't have, all it's done is told me I can't be a blogger. I'm too dull. I don't reach any of the standards, meet any of the criteria.

It's virtually mandatory to have been born in a brothel like Richard Pryor and have a monumental drug habit, and be completely misunderstood by the outside world.

Where's my share of random, anonymous sexual encounters with all and sundry? That's the kind of stuff other bloggers seem to lay the table with. I've none of that. Worse still, I don't meet standard blogger criteria: I actually liked my parents. Imagine that. I'll say it again, my parents and I got on really well. Savour that. No friction. No slamming doors. No angst on either side. Nothing.