Update '08.
Thanks for visiting eclectic boogaloo. No really.
Many people who come here ask "What the hell is this thing for?" and "What are you trying to achieve?" and "Why do you bother?"
The answer to those penetrating questions is simple.
Because it's there.
Hold on. that's not right.
Put simply, Eclectic Boogaloo was launched back in 2003 (in internet years, that's 1610).
The name, which I am slightly embarrassed by now, was meant to reflect the diverse nature of the content. Readers were as likely to read about Lunchtime Jailbreak, a near-pointless game that involved trying to get as far away from work and back via the Tube in one's lunch hour, as they were a snarksome review of an art exhibition or semi-fictional tales of an obese Parisian detective called Pierre Roquefort or imaginations of what obscure telly programmes buried deep in the listings were actually about.*
These things still appear from time to time. There are also occasional stories involving an extraordinarily angry man called Glynn Box, his life coach Angus Panels, and a jazz band called Brass Roots who for reasons best known to themselves created a photo montage of themselves playing their instruments while surrounded by gargantuan vegetables.
They're a real band by the way. Yeah, I know. Isn't it.
As of 2008 there will also be short fiction and more general 'Jesus, look what I found' type posts. Just so you know.
What you will NOT see here: adverts (unless anyone wants to pay me a lot of money, although I'm not really in it for the money, obviously); 'wish lists' (I'm Scottish); crummy ambient music that starts to play as soon as you load the home page.
A bit about me, you say?
No problem. I am a writer and journalist. You can get in touch with me at this address. Please do. My metaphorical door is always open.
As they say in America: you just have a blessed and awesome day!
As they say in Britain: um, yeah...so...er...that's about it. Cheers then bye.
*Yes, I know it's a bit like what TV Go Home used to do, but it's not actually the same thing at all, really.
