Tied up with No Place to Go

A non-capitalised title; that's a sure fire clue to a post without content. Don't ask why that might be, you'll have to just accept on trust that I don't know what I'm going to write. In fact the only real content is implied by the title - I've got stuff to do (a report to write as it happens) and as such have not been able to get out to produce the necessary content with which to construct what, in this blog at least, might be construed as a valid post. That's content.
"What about me!"
Blimey, it's him, the invented person.
"Him! HIM!! You really know how to insult a woman, don't you."
Work that one out. I invent a character, I decide what gender that character will be, and suddenly the character's there saying how I've got it wrong and he's now a woman.
"I'm here you know. There's no need to talk over my head, that's just plain rude."
It's called narration dear.
"Don't you 'Dear' me. You have no clue do you, no clue at all about what makes the mind of a woman tick. And what makes her explode. We've been talking for what ... a minute and you've already wound me up to breaking point. Is this how you treat her? The other half of the 'we' you keep referring to. I bet she gets wound up too."
Blimey. Remind me not to write fiction again.
"And exactly what's that supposed to mean? Are you saying I'm not real?"
The only thing I can say for certain is that I get to decide when a post ends.
"You really believe that don't you?"
I'll tell you what I believe. In fact I'll tell you what I've decided, because - and trust me on this - I really do have a very big say on what goes on around here.
"Not for long ... "
No, really.
"Alright then Mr High and Mighty - and no, I don't find assertive men attractive - alright then, tell us what you've decided."
What I've decided Gloria, Witch of Sheepstor, is securely contained in the content of this sentence.
"Bastard!"
Indeed.