There was a comment on this site yesterday from Andrew.
Andrew is new to the blogging world. Poor sod. But he has made a good start over at Chancing My Arm.
Andrew poses the question about ‘literary self-consciousness’. You’d know he was a teacher!
For a start, Andrew, you must realise that there are two of us doing the writing on this site.
There is me. I’m the genius behind the site. I’m the one with the humour and the adventurous spirit. I don’t give a shit what I say about myself, or anything else, for that matter.
Then there is The Other Fella. TOF is a sad bastard. He is the one who actually does the typing. He plays around with the software and puts the ideas on the screen. But they are my ideas, not his. TOF is a boring bloke and would be too scared to write anything about himself. There’s nothing to write anyway. Yes. He is that boring!
I let TOF go to any place where bloggers meet. He went to the Awards thingies. I tagged along too but he didn’t realise it. It was he who got on stage at the Irish Blog Awards and looked all embarrassed and stuttered out that pathetic little speech. People met him and thought he was me. They soon found out how boring his is.
TOF’s problem is that he is too self conscious. If it weren’t for me, he’d get nothing written because he wouldn’t dare.
There is a lot you don’t know about TOF. But take it from me – you don’t want to know it. He wouldn’t dare write about it, and I have too much respect for you to bore you with it.
I, on the other hand, don’t give a flying fuck. Literary self-consciousness? Hah! I’m not worried what you know. You’re going to hear it, warts and all.
Of course, TOF gets blamed for the things that are written. People jump to the wrong conclusion and assume he is me. It’s the price he has to pay for being my public representative. I let him do it though.
The poor sod needs some excitement in his humdrum life.