Hello World. I have come out of semi-retirement in support of a little pumpkin head named Justin, who has just given birth to his very own (extremely amusing) blog. (In defence of my use of that very graphic & possibly disturbing metaphor, some of my friends have recently found themselves with child, as you do, and thus I have endured many birth related conversations of late.) But I promise there will be no more talk of labour in the next 29 words or so. Because the subject I have chosen to speak about today is the phenomenon of YOLO-ing. For the uninitiated, and for my parents, YOLO stands for You Only Live Once. YOLO is the new black. It is the Gangnam Style of acronyms. And according to one internet pop-up my browser obviously did not block, YOLO is also an excuse to conduct an affair with a married person. You see kids, you can use YOLO to justify just about anything: I am going to smoke heroin. YOLO. I am going to get a tattoo. On my face. YOLO. I am going to eat an apple. Without even washing it first. YOLO. And in conclusion: please read Justin’s blog. You can access it here, here & here. Thank you.
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