Web log? Can't we call it something shorter?

So I had a conversation a while ago with a singer I know.

He's not a famous singer, but he likes to dress in leathers and feathers whatever the weather(tm). He knows who he is, even if the rest of the free world don't. Yet.

So I was having a conversation with this singer about web logging, and how I really don't care enough about anything to warrant writing a blog. He suggested I write a blog about the wild turkeys that sleep in the trees outside my apartment. I laughed, pointing out that no-one in their right mind would read a blog about turkeys crapping on my air conditioner and falling out of trees. (They sometimes do.) So I left the blogging thing to others.

But then something occurred to me. Anybody who habitually writes about their world and posts it on online must be out of their mind. Likewise with anyone who habitually reads about somebody else's world online. And as I do habitually read the blogs written by my friends, I must be out of my mind! Therefore making it perfectly logical for me to write this blog.

And for those of you wondering what on earth this will be about, I direct you to the title bar at the top of this page. I love food. I love drink. I love to cook. I love cooking with drink. I love to drink while I cook. Sometimes the drink even makes it into the food. Unfortunately, sometimes the food gets into the drink resulting in those annoying moments where you try to fish something out of your Hendricks and Tonic. Knowing my luck it'll be a sardine...

A "world-wide-web log posting" - we have to find a shorter name, like maybe a "3-dub-post"? Catchy? Never mind then - a blog on food, drink, cooking, and assorted kitchen-related miscellany.

Interested? Add this to your favourites and I hope you enjoy listening to me preach about random food facts, the best way to cut an onion and how to actually make use of a tin of corned beef without throwing out the pink part first.

Not interested? I'll send my singing friend to regale you with musical tales on the fate of turkeys who take a dump on my aircon.