This Blog Going Forward

So I hope your arbitrary time division turning over point was enjoyable.

But enough of this gay banter.

Anyway, while there wasn't a huge amount of feedback to my last post, what there was did reinforce what I was thinking of doing anyway.

So going forward, this blog will switch from a daily post target to when the ideas strike me. This will mean a much less frequent posting schedule, and a less regular time frame.

But hey, there's over 4000 posts on this blog already, you've got plenty to delve into.

Thank you for reading, and enjoy your life!

This Blog's Future

So.

Obviously these last few months, I've been taking more frequent and longer breaks from the one a day schedule this blog is supposedly built on.

Now, I could justifiably decide that I've done well enough, over 4000 posts, over 10 years, I could declare this a (large partial) success and call it there.

Or, I could switch from a daily to a "when I get the idea" model, which would lead to less regular posting, both in frequency and timing.

Or I could attempt to keep going.

What do you think?

I'm serious, I would like your feedback here.

Running Against The Clock

We'd agreed, during a drunken night of club-hopping, that if we got to 30 (such a far away number, at the time), if neither of us had found love, we'd marry each other to satisfy the familes and for tax purposes.

When 30 rolled around, so damn quickly, we considered it, given our circumstances, but then mutually agreed to push it to 40, which was a whole decade away, plenty of time.

We both got close, but 40 came, and 50 was aimed for.

And indeed, on her 50th, we married.

Right before her ultimately pointless chemotherapy course began.

Gender Based Prophecy

"You fool! The Gods themselves have said that no Man can kill me!"

The swordsman, had he the breath, would have told the Wizard that he just wanted to shut him up, or maybe something about injuring him enough. But instead, he just swung the sword.

He connected with the Wizard, which didn't surprise him. He also decapitated the Wizard, which he didn't.

It took a few seconds for him to realise the Wizard was dead.

It took a few moments for him to realise the Wizard wasn't coming back.

It took a few months for her to understand everything.

So-Called Hill

They had called it a hill. But as I stood at the base, that wasn't the word that sprung to my mind. 'Mountain' was an early contender, 'sheer-faced cliff' getting disqualified due to it being 2, maybe 3 words, with 'big' ending up winning the popular vote after a couple run-offs.

Unfortunately, I could see what was the start of a 'path' heading up. I had to call it that because 'seemingly impossible direction to travel' didn't roll off the tongue.

Not as well as I rolled off the 'big' a 'hundredish' meters up the so-called 'path'.

Wish Granted

"I wish for a gold coin that doubles every day, in that I have 2 the next day, 4 the day after that, and-"

The urchin noticed that the Genie had frozen, as had the cave around him, in an eerie green light.

Then a portal opened and a small figure in a black suit stepped through with a clipboard and a pair of half-glasses on a chain.

"Hello. You have attempted to cast or invoke a magic spell that will cause an economic collapse within a few months. What are you intending to spend the money on?'

The urchin blinked and rubbed his head.

"Uh... Food? A bed? Wine? Women, maybe some of that-"

"I see, are there any others you intend to support or use the money on?"

The urchin thought about the other urchins.

"No."

The figure nodded and filled out a scroll.

"So no plans for inter-plane interactions nor major political or magical upheavals?"

"No, man, I just want to live a nice life."

The figure nodded as they continued scrawling in gaps on the scroll.

"Very wise. Sign here."

The urchin, confused, signed.

*********

The rich man was unaware he lost two wishes, technically.

#1 With A Bullet

Humanity was desperate for something that made them stand out amongst the Galactic Community. It wasn't unusual, most races went through it, the desperate need to be the most special and unique in some way.

But try as we might, we couldn't find one. There was always another race stronger, faster, better at art, music, sex, everything. And we were also too much of an outlier to try and claim default status, not that we didn't try hard.

But in the end, we did find one way we were the best.

'Disease incubation' wasn't good for tourism.

But for weapons...