It just got up and left. Without so much as a ‘”by your leave”. Without so much as a note. One day it was there and the next, gone. One just cannot write without the spark so I haven’t. So this blog gathered dust much to the disgust of the French Maid with the feather duster who inhabits a part of my mind. (What? Don’t look at me like that!)

It’s not as if there isn’t anything to write about – this is 2009 on the planet Earth, after all. There’s an embarrassment of riches, writing wise. An ocean of material awaits the writer, be it sad, funny, dramatic, whatever, it’s out there.

Take for instance the antics of some members of the Brisbane constabulary who were in fine form a few days ago. It seems that a couple of the boys in blue wanted to celebrate their impending nuptials. (Not to each other, I hasten to add.) There was a buck’s night accompanied by the usual hijinks (by the way, I digress to remind some of you that I am still owed one proper buck’s night – I’ve only been waiting 15 odd years; cough up). Unfortunately said hijinks spilled out onto streets of Brisbane.

In an unmarked police bus.

Sans clothing.

A witness says she saw the car stop several times so that two naked men could jump out and run laps around the vehicle. She called the police and gave them the bus’ registration number. Imagine their surprise when they found that the culprits were two Special Emergency Response Team officers brandishing their truncheons in public (cheap shot, I know, but I don’t have the spark, remember. Besides, I could have written several sentences about night sticks, so be grateful I didn’t.)

The two officers are now under investigation as are their friends in the van. It turns out that three of those friends had a similar distaste for clothing. What exactly were those three doing in the van? Responding to their own special emergency? On second thoughts, I think it best if we leave that mystery unsolved.

So there you have just one example of material available to the writer. A time honoured pre-nuptial rite that was just right to get me to write. Even without the spark.