I'm not expecting a cake or any presents. After all, it's not like I need much at this stage of life. Especially calories. Still, it would be nice if someone noticed. Oh, wait... There's no feedback mechanism on this page. How would I know? Ok, self pity out of the way...

So, what to do for year two?

How about a photo essay?
Of course, I'd have to take pictures of something other than tourist crap.

How about excerpts from my new novel?
Of course, I'd have to write a new novel. Or a first novel.

How about... Oh hell, I haven't even got any far-fetched ideas, let alone practical ones.

I know! How about the same old dreck?
Yes. That's it. Every week, I'll wrack my brain trying to think of something useful - fail - and then write something anyway. Yes. Drivel so bad that the photons emanating from your screen actually feel put out for having had to deliver it to you. Yes. That's what I'll do.