Saturday, my little maid, harbinger of many things, but most notable, Haiku Saturday.
I just played.
Why don't you have a go yourself...?
I look forward to it every week. Almost as much as I used to look forward to keyboarding. Typing sounded dreadfully old fashioned, even in the late 1980s, so, at my school, replete with three computers (yes, three!) we did not type, we keyboarded.
My teacher was as camp as knickers and wore the very traditional 1980s gay moustache. He was a kindly man who gave the boys much better marks than the girls. Mr Wilkins was his name. And still is, probably.
He was funky, too, as any gay should be and let us listen to Steve Wright In The Afternoon on Radio 1. "Try and type with the rhythm of the music," he'd say.
I never cared for Steve Wright. Anyone who feels the need to pack out their radio show with a "posse" and have them constantly lick his arse, is, in my humble opinion, a cunt, dear reader.