Hell, I always had higher ideals for this blog than some of the others. Intellectual pursuits and the like, sage discourse, high tea, crumpets... But, as with every internet log, it descended into "today I had a boiled egg" territory pretty quickly. And as with all such matters the sands in the wee egg-timer seem to have run out and the carcass of this diary can not rot in the cache of the Intertubes to be picked over by scavengers craving the electronic equivalent of dead flesh.
I'll go on to do what I always do, which is discuss my eggs on my own log (from the other side of the world, where eggs go down the drain counter-clockwise), Josh will possibly make his fluid cartoons even more verbose to get off his chest his current crop of violent thoughts, and Jack's blathering will be recorded in a tome that will be worshipped as the word of god by his inevitable cult. Matthew will cite the site's death as a conspiracy agaisnt him, and Eric with probably dust off his The Amazing Jabroni sequined ensemble and go back to the circus.
Last one out turn off the lights, eh?