Hey Danny, What You Doing? A Blog Test?

Glad you asked. Well, I'm just trying this blog-a-ma-jig out. And eating a whole pack of bourbons. Y'know, I made a promise to myself a few years ago, when I was going through a bit of a tough patch financially. 'Danny,' I said, 'Keep a pack of bourbons in the house every week. That way people will know you're someone. You're a man. You've made it in the world and no-one can deny that.' So yeah... Bourbons maketh the man. Or Cussy Creams at a push. But never Fruit Shortcake. Those are for cunts.

Well this is going well so far... Oh fuck Horne and Corden is on. Thank you BBC3. Thank you so very fucking much. Like I haven't got enough things to worry about already what with maintaining the biscuit levels, and that man that keeps trying to lend me his pen. Now I've got the constant terror that I could be flicking channels and land in the middle of that Ricky Gervais thing they do. Or the joke about the man who is gay. Because that is innately funny, obviously, being gay. Walked through The Castro in San Francisco. Almost shit myself laughing... Or that one where Spider Man and Superman are having, you know, like a gay affair, which is, as has previously been discussed, innately hilarious. (Would also point out that Superman and Spider Man would never meet, owing to them being from DC and Marvel Comics respectively, but, y'know, I could do without you lot thinking I'm a bigger geek than you probably do already. See how I try to slip that in without being held properly accountable? Fucking Teflon, me...)

So, yeah. Biscuits, and anger. That's how I roll...