Nothing To Do With Arbroath

I'm not a sentimental guy, but it's with a heavy heart that I report the at-least-temporary closing of Nothing To Do With Arbroath, likely the most amazing (and valuable to me) one-person blog on the intertubes. The proprietor (who has never, ever run an ad), an energizer-bunny-like Scotsman named Kevin, posts at least 10 "weird news" stories a day sharply at 6 a.m. on the Isles--and when I write "a day," I mean every single damn 24-hour-cycle, new-calendar-page day, every day, every, every, every. His whole archive is there, and y'all should pop over to Arbroath and leave him a Comment on his top page, which unfortunately will be unupdated for a while, because part of the reason he's backing off is his health. (He also cites similar Internet annoyances experienced by Yr Editor Chuck, who gets depressed daily by auto-loading pages, pop-ups, websites' over-converting to mobile and leaving us desktop old-timers behind--as well as "social media"'s snatching our visitors.) Kevin especially loves animal-heavy stories; he's got cute captions for cute ones and never met an exceptionally low-IQ'd animal in distress that he didn't consider newsworthy. I miss the hell out of him already, but we can hope his health improves and that he returns to the keyboard. (All right, I'll stop now before I get all maudlined up. I'm not good at this.)