Jooo. Jag har f a k t i s k t läst alla mail. Har bara inte orkat svara på dem än. Vad ska jag skriva? Typ:
"Probably Tuesday: hot, flies. Dinner: honey ants.
Attacked by honey ants. Fell into waterhole.
Wednesday, whit any luck: hot, flies. Dinner: either bush raisins or kangaroo droppings. Chased by hunters, don't know why. Fell into waterhole.
Thursday (could be): hot, flies. Dinner blue-tongued lizard. Savaged by blue-tongued lizard. Chased by different hunters. Fell off cliff, bounced inte tree, pissed on by small grey incontinent teddy bear, landed in a waterhole.
Friday: hot, flies. Dinner: some kind of roots wich tasted like sick. This saved time.
Saturday: hotter than yesterday, extra flies. V. thirsty.
Sunday: hot. Delirious whit thirst and flies. Nothing by nothing as far as the eye can see, whit bushes in it. Decided to die, collapsed, fell down sand dune into waterhole." (Rincewind's diary in "The last continent")
Skulle inte tro det. Får fundera på saken. Något kan jag väl komma på, antar jag *funderar stenhårt, nästan*