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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