First blog posts and confessions

The first post on a new blog is always boring. Boring and pointless. Much like the first page of a diary that reads Dear Diary, today I decided to start a diary. Or the first ball of a backyard cricket match which you can never ‘get out’ on.

So since first blog posts are so redundant I will be self-indulgent with mine and confess to committing a serious – but common enough – crime: starting blogs and never looking at them again.

My first blog was called Carving Stones With Birds – a blog title that I¬†thought quirky and clever at the time, but which has not aged well. I didn’t post anything bar a picture of a game of ‘Animal Snap’ on this blog.

Following this dismal failure I started Crappy Blog #2 which I called Red Rubber Balls. Another terribly-named blog that received only a pic of a You Am I album, a pic of a black kid wearing massive glasses (which I still kinda like) and a cringe-worthy bio – I am a boy. This blog is of a boy, with a quill and a spare evening. Sit back or lean forward. Devour. I can’t have been in a good place when I wrote that.

My best effort before this current blog was one which I wrote under the pseudonym of a character called Charlie Messier – a divorced, 51-year-old who lived with his grandmother and believed in open relationships.

That’s Charlie above. Or what I thought Charlie should look like. (FYI, the real Charles Messier – from whom I stole the name – was actually a cool French astronomer who cataloged a whole lot of deep sky objects. Impress your lover with this info some time.)

Now that I’ve confessed all this I can finally concentrate on this blog or – metaphorically speaking – the second ball of the game which will probably be really fast and bowl me out for a duck anyway.

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