It's Official!

Any thoughts I might have harboured about the role of our local postman in the non-delivery of my Awardee (not to mention a DVD that a friend posted that has somehow 'gone missing') were well and truly quashed this morning when he rolled up with my certificate from the World Blog Council.


I must applaud the WBC for their efficiency. My certificate now takes pride of place above the fireplace in the lounge at Blunt Mansions. I'm proud to be a complete member of the WBC. As Mrs Blunt kindly pointed out, I have always been a complete member to her, and I don't mind saying I gave her a peck on the cheek when she told me that.

Thank You, WBC!

More seasoned Bloggers than I will know that the pressures of writing a daily blog can be great. Children may go unfed; jobs may be neglected; wives may be deserted. But the blog goes on.

Never let it be said that Bill Blunt is afraid to blow his own trumpet. Just minutes ago, I learned that the World Blogging Council have awarded me one of their prestigious (and highly-coveted) Awards. At moments like these, the unfed children, neglected jobs and deserted wives truly seem worth it.

As is the unfortunate fashion, I must of course thank a few people who have helped me along the way to this singular achievement. Thomas Hamburger Jnr is first in line for the bouquet (even though he is now accusing me of somehow preventing him writing his griping tale of a family which, even after 85,000 words, steadfastly refuses to be found). I trust the word 'churlish' is springing to his mind.

Next, my dear old mother who, at 102, I still hope might yet become the world's oldest blogger (although she's got a long way to go yet).

It would be remiss of me not to thank my dear, dear wife, whose love of shopping has meant that I have had many free hours to compose my blog posts. Wally Green, my long-departed mentor, would also have enjoyed today - had he still been alive to witness it. I like to think that his spirit is hammering on the side of a massive web-fed rotary offset printing press somewhere, in appreciation.

And, of course, my sons Justin and Jasper who each, in their own way, have helped me master the technology of the internet. Not to forget my daughter, who has made her own way in the world of art, making the name Barbara Blunt a by-word for t-shirt sloganeering over the last two decades.

But none of this would have been possible without you, dear reader. Your faith in my prognostication and your ability to see beyond the mixed metaphor has given me a new lease on life. Even just today, I was dusting off the notes for my autobiography, Fatha, Get The Coals In which, when it was rejected by every publisher except Lacklustre Press in 1989, seemed destined for the remainder shelves. Not any longer! With the imprimatur of the World Blog Council, it may yet reach a wider audience.

I shall go to sleep with a smile on my face tonight - and I don't care what Mrs Blunt has to say about that.

Thank you, WBC, for making a disgruntled old man very happy and, if anyone else is seeking World Blogging Council endorsement, I can only suggest you visit their site and see whether your blog measures up to their exacting standards. A small token of your esteem (preferably used and non-consecutive banknotes) seems to do the trick.

To be noticed is a wonder

Young Jasper was at it again, with another of his almost-legendary reports, yesterday. While his brother watched Eurovision, he was hunched over his PC checking for any and all references to Bill Blunt out there on the net.

Well, the news is good. The weekend controversy over my forum ban drew a record 259 pageloads from 129 unique visitors. Perhaps that's why the prestigious World Blog Council is currently 'considering' my application for membership of their august organisation?

Similarly, although I have yet to receive it, Jasper tells me I was awarded an Awardie a few weeks ago.

He muttered something about 'vanity publishing' when he threw his report at me in disgust. It's a brave son who accuses his father of being vain, so I'm glad he only muttered it.