The IMPOSSIBLE IMPLODING INTELLECTUAL and one too many at the ISOBAR

10 years ago this was my first-ish A to Z. A time when I wrote a diary in a rather distinctive style as the eccentric child of cyberspace . . . . . I say first-ish because I did a practice run in March 2012 so I sort of did it twice.

A little Mad but then doing the A to Z can drive a chap mad. 

Anyway 10 years where did that go Phew. 

The Letter I

Industrious, interesting, intuitive, inexplicable and insane all words that the New York Times has not used in their in depth interview in the imaginative mind of the individual who instinctively responds the interesting name of Rob Z Tobor (me or I).

So having now investigated many of the interesting blogs INVOLVED in the A to Z it is intriguing that many (ok a couple) have inexplicably imploded into the infinite void of infinity in the internet something Ian would I’m sure say was inevitable.

The dog insists that the imploded blogs are the result of INTOXICATED bloggers hanging about in the Isobars of cyberspace where bloggers become INEBRIATED by infusions of suspicious letters from the alphabet such as T or IT (An early evening meal, typically eaten between 5pm and 7pm in England) or Y’n or even G’n or J’n or possibly B’r (as in you’re my best mate you are).

Isobars are (also) as we all know invisible lines of pressure of a known value along a line and it is a common fact that bloggers can not work under pressure. So losing Inertia, resulting in Ineptitude, killing their inventive minds.

While on the subject of Invisible things here is a little drawing of the Cheshire Cat I did some time ago just before it became Invisible (as they do)

If you meet a pretty young girl who gives you a card to an Isobar offering free entry and a free drink just say “I’m an Intergalactic invader from IO (one of the moons of Jupiter), and my iguana has insomnia”……. It has always worked for me as they then run away.

Mum has said IDIOT. I thought she might, she said that last time I wrote about EYE’s.

Anyway I irritatingly (for you) intend to illustriously inch my way to Z and beyond. 

The Ghost Writer says IT IS  alright for you lot he has had to work all day in a grey office spilling the guts of temperamental artificial intelligence which was shouting Igloo Igloo Igloo, I'M an Igloo.

.