(posted by Danny)
That Michael, he’s such a whiner sometimes. “You never read my blog! Why don’t you read my blog?” OK OK, anything to shut you up. Troubled Diva? You don’t know the half of it.
“So what do people write about on these blogs?”
“Oh, anything they feel like…”
(I get the big speech here. How Blogs Are Changing Everything, or something like that. I zoned out a bit, to be honest. Lovely boy, but he does go on a bit. I think he said Empowerment a couple of times. Yeah, whatever.)
“Alright alright, so what DON’T people write about?”
Two things. Work – well yeah, I can see why not – and sex. Huh? Why’s that then?
That set him off again. Waffle waffle. I think he might have said Boundaries a few times, but I was too busy sniggering at the club photos in the back of Midlands Zone. (Rule One of the Birmingham scene: don’t get papped when you’re mashed. Snigger snigger. State of ‘er!)
So I started reading the blog, and before I knew it I was hooked. Archives, the 40 Days thing, the works. Even spotted Paul and myself in there a couple of times. Christ, he doesn’t use one word where ten will do, does he? As in life, so in blog. Oh, it’s all coming out now. The stories I could tell! What price my silence, Michael?
8:30 Monday morning, and already I’m sounding like one of the bitches in the bogs at The ‘Gale on a Saturday night. Can’t help it, Mister! I was stood by the dryer, fag in hand, dissing the Toilet Terrors (they mean well, but such easy prey), and then the wind changed and I stayed that way. Don’t end up like me, kids! Sour old hag of the parish! Step into the light while there’s still time!
Anyway, like the Diva says, I’m gonna be talking about ESS-EE-EX this week. Boundaries, schmoundaries! And no, of COURSE I’m not really called Danny, and of COURSE Paul’s not really called Paul, and I’ll be changing names and places and odd little details along the way, just in case. Because I may be new to blogging, but I’m not completely STUPID either.
Who’s this Martin then? Is he fit?