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“We don’t share personal stuff with strangers,”  said George Clooney’s character in some movie I’m watching late at night, because: George Clooney.  I’m not particularly interested in this crap, but: George Clooney.

I nearly jumped off the couch.  Who ever heard of not sharing with strangers?  Aren’t strangers the best people to share with?  Because most of you lot don’t really know me, so I can be however I want.  I can tell you how I am, rather than show you with my actions.  I can be the best me on here, and with no real effort.  You gotta love that.

You didn’t even know the Country Road ladies said I needed Spanx until I told you.  And I don’t have to show you my flabby bum in my selfies- there’s a cropping function on iPhoto.  You don’t know I yelled at my kid this morning for acting like a brat, or that I snuck a late night snack into the other kid tonight after he’d already cleaned his teeth.  You don’t have to know that I know all the words to “The Black Widow” and sing and narrate it like I’m on X-Factor when I’m in the car.  You don’t know I tell the television off when nonsense ads for Dettol or Nurofen are on.  You don’t know that I wear my dressing-gown as clothing when I’m at home in the winter, or that I have saved every letter that I’ve ever been written.

It seems that Ben Elton wasn’t far off the mark in his Orwellian “Blind Faith”, so I suspect it won’t be long until the people without the blogs are the weird ones.  The ones not to be trusted, even though behind the screen we can be whoever we want to be.  We can show any kind of shiny self we like.

What a strange world it is, don’t you think?

 

…From The Ashers xx

 

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