Captain Goldensword has missed his spectacular re-emergence into the land of bloggering by a scant half-hour. It was supposed to be this awe-inspiring and triumphant thing and there were going to be balloons and pigeons released and spaggheti fountains, but alas, I was too late.
Like many of you, I was engaged in a mortal combat with a foe that is known to all for horrific and widespread acts of carnage: Old Man Winter. And I am sad to report, Captain Goldensword has had his golden hot pants handed to him on a platter of ice. Literally. Old Man Winter stripped them off with some sort of forbidden ninja death-move, and whilst I was covering the Golden jewels, he froze my Golden hot pants onto a platter of ice. Which he promptly handed to me and went off laughing into the wintery night.
It took a great deal of tugging and heaving and freezing his Golden knockers off, but Captain Goldensword did eventually prevail against the platter of ice (bringing my overall battle stats for the night to one-and-one). Sadly, I was late for my intronet re-introduction-ment. Did I mention that we'd had pigeons?
So as I had begun to say but didn't actually get the chance to elaborate on but will now that I have started an appropriate sentence: if you'll notice the time-stamps on Captain Goldensword's previous two posts, you'll see that they occurred exactly one year apart. To the day. Try not to be too incredibly impressed, citizen: we superheroes tend to be dramatic like that.
"Golly Captain Goldensword", you might ask, "what the heck ya been doing all year, any-such-a-ways?"
To which I might respond, "Fighting evil, as always, good citizen... fighting evil. As always."
(Although I must secretly confess with secret-ey parenthesis that my SI has not been so consistant this year - he has been subjected to repeated, bowel-trembling experiences in which he has been fired by teenagers with hair nets and oozing acne)
Your next question might be, "So why ain'tcha been bloggin, Cap?"
I would respond, firstly, with an insistance that you refer to me by my full name, Captain Goldensword, so as not to besmirch any of the glory in which I am continually surrounded, and then secondly, I would change the subject along the lines of, "Sorry, citizen, but I must away... duty calls, and I, Captain Goldensword, must answer the proverbial phone - before duty gets transferred to voicemail."
And then I would fly away, being certain to offer you a good view of my sculpted, Golden cheeks.