Racing Time

I am currently having a race against time, my computer monitor tells me that it is 23:42 at the exact moment of the writing of this sentence and if I am to stick to the one blog post a day system that I have set myself then I must complete something within the next seventeen minutes. The starting pistol has been fired and right now it feels like it's been fired horizontally next to me and I'm desperately racing the bullet. And since I am not of African origin nor am I particularly athletic, the latter perhaps more important than the former which could be perceived as a little bit racist, the likelihood that I win is extremely slim.
 For one thing the very fact I've been managing to stick to the "one post a day system"(there's something not quite nice about the ring of that phrase, it somehow has an institutionalized totalitarian atmosphere similar to the Chinese "One child per family system".) considering I'm extremely easily bored and usually any of the projects which I propose with an air of self deception, knowing in my heart of hearts that it really will be the exact opposite, "will be long running" usually end up faltering to a halt two days in.
 Nonetheless I've managed to soldier on this time and I've maintained some sort of structure and residual wit throughout all of my blog posts despite the fact that I have readership which is constantly on a low hanging surface skimming glide above the sea of zero. However even that glittering legacy may come to an end today as I have nine minutes left to think of a coherent topic, structure and punchline for a vaguely amusing, semi witty post which uses a needless amount of convoluted over stretched metaphors and complicated similes, combined with a lovely sprinkle of obscure analogies that do very little to actually clarify the situation. This must be what James Bond feels like upon faced with a ticking bomb which his enemy has, for reasons unknown, always left on timer, as opposed to say, triggered to explode when he gives the signal or presses a button (which would be a lot more convenient all things considered, all things in this case including a somehow invincible, invulnerable, seductive spy whose face and character changes every once in a while, each new Bond displaying a new and completely different set of features and characteristics apart from the one resoundingly common link that they are all very very white and posh). The ultimate question, the blue wire or the red wire? Should I just give up now and post an incomplete piece or post several seconds after midnight, thereby failing my daily quota.
 For one thing I'm yet to even think of a proper topic for this post let alone a punchline. Hmm... Ah, the punchline is that I have in fact used the idea of not having a topic as a topic? How's that? ...A little weak perhaps?