New Post for a New Jamie

It has been way too flipping long since I last decided to write a blog post.  There's been a few reasons for it but I definitely need to start pulling my finger out and getting back in the blog game.  Since I last posted a blog, I have met a fantastic girl who has left me feeling fantastic and ready to tackle anything every day, and this has got the creative juices in my head going 100 miles an hour up and down the motorway of my imaginative mind.  It's due to this that I've decided on a new writing kick to keep me occupied in the moments I'm not able to see her (bloody work getting in the way!).

I've got a few ideas in my mind, but I'm told that I can be funny at times, so I'm going to set my mind on that and, for the foreseeable future, I aim to write the first of my many memoirs, which I shall be calling "Who Are You? An Autobiography of An Unassuming Non-Celebrity".  This will be a mix of reality and imagination, giving everyone that cares to read it a glimpse into the world of a complete and utter non-celebrity that's trying to make his way in the world.

For those interested in noting how well this could go, please find below the first page, lovingly titled Prologue.  Enjoy!

PROLOGUE

Who am I I hear you ask, and why am I reading some nonsensical musings and ramblings of someone that hasn't even auditioned for Big Brother?  Trust me, I'm not a celebrity.  I'm just an unassuming 35 year old buffoon from a seaside (well, Thames Estuary-side) town that has entirely way too much time on his hands.  Why not tell everyone about my life?  Hell if Joey Essex can write a book (I assume it's a real book and not a big book of Smurfs colouring book) then I can too.  I may not be on telly, but I at least know my ABC's and can count to ten without the use of my fingers.  And yes, that is a knock on the state of so-called "reality" TV these days, which may happen a lot during the subsequent pages, and that's something coming from a wrestling fan, as we all know without a shadow of a doubt, that wrestling is real.  Right?  Right?

Over the next however many pages (I've just started with the prologue and I'm not entirely sure how many I'm actually going to complete before I call it THE END, but it will be bigger than a copy of Razzle, just without the pictures and readers wives sections - if you don't know what Razzle is/was, you never checked the top shelf of your local newsagent, did you?)I'm going to put everything on paper that I remember about my life - every high, every low and all the embarrassing moments I found myself in.  And if I feel that it's getting too boring, or too preachy, I'm just gonna make shit up, just like that dude Screech from Saved By the Bell who once starred in a porn film that you can never unsee.  So for artistic licence purposes, I would like to end this prologue and start the book off right with the following:

"BASED ON A TRUE STORY"

So strap in, get a cuppa, a bourbon biscuit and get ready for product placement aplenty, as we delve into the life of a Non-Celebrity that will make no sense to those that didn't live it or weren't a part of it.  Just take it for what it is, and that's a way to kill time.  I hope that one day, my memoirs will be read by people on the toilet the whole world over.  It helps to have a dream, and my dreams are minimalistic.  And that's my headstone engraving sorted.

Read on dear listeners, and help me in my goal to become slightly more famous than anyone that put on a Teletubby outfit in the 90's (but I still won't go on Big Brother).