“What?” roared the Web surfer, “no diary entry for today? Shame upon you, David!” And David could do nothing but look away meekly and mutter an inaudible excuse.
Well, I could tell of plenty of things, of today's strike and protest that paralysed France, or of my further successes with cubic surfaces, or of the encounter on IRC of a mad francophile Dutch priest with a boot fetish (I'm not making this up! I have logfiles to prove it! the question remains, of course, whether it was some kind of hoax), but I think I'll simply go to bed now.