The new 3 B's of my life

I had a sleepless night a couple of days ago, and last night wasn't much better. Like all parents of small children, a "restful" night is one when I don't wake up too often. I coined an alliteration to describe it:

blisslessly bereft of bedrest.

Try wrapping your mouth around that!

English speakers everywhere will be happy to know that blisslessly is yet another of my coinages that will never, ever catch on, joining the ranks of outsight, neverthemore, and another one that not only hasn't caught on, but I can't remember it.

That could serve as a new goal to contemplate for this weblog: to devise a new dialect of the English language that no one understands unless they read the weblog from start to finish. A new visitor who tried to read the last entry (whenever it comes) would find that it sounded as if it kind of made sense, but required too much effort to puzzle out. Four hundred years from now, people would read my words and see the events of their time explained in brilliant lack of detail, proclaiming me the 21st century's Nostradamus.

After all, turnabout's fair play. I don't understand the insanity anyone else is advocating; why should I make myself overstandable?