It has been said before. Countless times. After every long period away from blogging the few of you who have read them all have witnessed many examples of, ‘The Comeback Blog’. Well chalk up another one for the collection.
At this point I am the boy who cried Wolfe. I don’t blame you for doubting me, if you do believe me I’d advise you to be a bit more incredulous in future as I do have the form of someone who is at best, delusional, and at worst a liar. That being said, I will try one final time to be a blogger.
One last push that will hopefully bring forth into the world (wide web) a life form. My intention, as with everyone’s offlings, is for it to be healthy and fully-functioning, have lots of acquaintances that drop by often and maybe even make a valued contribution to society. But alas, as with most, it will likely be a good-for-nothing little urchin that is only barely loved by its creator, with worrying social and physical deformities and a future laden with mediocrity and overwrought metaphors.
A disclaimer: The format I’d like to adopt is one of regular updates and very little planned content. This will most likely result in a lot of stream-of-consciousness rambling with little point or punch line. But what has kept me from posting in the past has been a fear of standing on a soapbox with nothing to say. Allow me these hopefully occasional journeys into the formless babble of a Boris Johnson TV apology and maybe we can alight on the other side of content and wit.
If anybody is reading me for the first time, welcome. I am a kindergarten teacher with a beard but luckily I no longer live in a country where this is illegal. For an example of what my life is like: Today I fished excrement out of a urinal.
I have my own method of motorised transportation! For the first time in my life I don’t travel on the moral high ground of those who don’t drive a car or a motorbike. I no longer wait at the bus stops and railway platforms of the environmentally conscious and I am forever saved from… having to get lifts everywhere with mates. The words car and motorbike were thrown in there as a dead herring. I live in a busyish Asian city, therefore I am a scooterer. At16 I thought that not even considering owning a scooter was a sign of my maturity, over the trials and tribulations, ups and downs and lazy clichés of the last nine years I have moved past this. It’s true, a university education and experiencing other cultures truly does open the mind.
This is basically it. Every week. Thanks.