06 Nov 2007 › 4:30 p.m.
So I’ve avoided describing Bloke with any depth or detail, mostly because I am unduly paranoid that he or someone he knows will stumble across the blog and discover a
resemblance (I’m probably flattering myself with this scenario, as my readers do not exactly number in the millions). Regardless, the mere idea gives me a case of the idiot-shivers. Like, have you ever hung up your cell phone and immediately started talking shit about the person you were just talking to and then realized that – oops – you hadn’t hang up the phone properly?
No? You aren’t that stupid (or evil) you say?
Hmmm. Well, it’s a total kick in the girlie-nuts let me tell you. There’s nothing you can say and nothing you can do – you’re just busted… worse—deservedly busted. So you take a deep breath, lay back and bathe in the musky waters of mortification.
Bloke facts for the people:
Bloke makes a living with his music—albeit meager as per usual, though he is markedly un-moochy which comes as a huge relief. He keeps himself in ale and chips or whatever his Limey needs may be. He has great dental habits (nothing against the Brit boys, but they do have a bit of a rep), claims to have a decent relationship with Mommy (or Mum as it were), and passes all other possible serial killer tests with flying colors. There are you satisfied? Cause that’s all I can give you for now.
