With apologies to Herman Melville

What terraqueous wretch do I see before me now blown in by Euroclydon’s vicissitudes? Ah, but come schrimshander, for is it not true that all men, Christian and heathen alike may be called shipmate? Sit down with me on this bench and let us blog. For this is, I find, a strange peculiarity of mine, that when I find myself growing grim about the mouse finger I turn to blogging. For me it is an outlet as other men may turn to foot and ball. For truly I have no objection to any man’s predilections, be he blogger or forum browser, so long as in the communication of his beliefs he neither trolls nor needlessly chastises his shipmates. Truly it is a marvel which may be expounded upon, that the humour of the denizens of blogger vacillates between ad-sense adoration and Tartarian disdain, as the noble Romans raised up Gaius at the expense Bibulus.

With apologies to Oscar Wilde

Two lose one blog may be regarded as misfortune, but to loose track of two looks to be carelessness. An inability to remember their log-in details is no excuse sir, one has staff for that. And where, might I ask, did you come by this rag? And do not think to try my patience or offer up so absurd an excuse as to suggest that it was found in the proximity of a handbag, for such events do not occur twice save in the very worst three-volume novels. While some may believe in calling a media-aggregator a media-aggregator I am pleased to say that I have never seen Digg. I think perhaps it is time for you to leave sir, until you can justify your presence here with display of acceptable pedigree.

With apologies to P. G. Wodehouse

Well, well well, I mean to say gosh look who it is? How have you been keeping old bean? I was remarking to Jeeves only the other day – you’ve met Jeeves I take it? No? Really? I thought that all my acquaintances had been introduced to him? The chap with the rather stern face? Arrayed in the usual garb of a gentleman’s gentleman. Anyway, during a post-prandial saunter I caught a glimpse of Gappy Langton, you remember old Gappy? Yes? Good. And he had in tow a female who was the "spitting I" of that girl you were involved with during that summer in Devon. Ah, but we loiter too long, tempus fugit as er…well someone said - come accompany me to meet my uncle, Lord Windemere, the dinner at his club is not to be scoffed at.