This is my first time and I’m feeling a little shaky and insecure. Am I overdressed? Do I need a shave? Are you sure you’re up for this? I think it would be easier if we knew each other better, maybe had dinner or a couple glasses of wine. And no matter how this thing goes I’m apparently expected to repeat the performance again and again, maybe twice a week for years to come. But if it isn’t good for you, are you even going to bother coming back?
My primary concern, I suppose, is that I have nothing whatsoever to say, though there are times when I can’t restrain myself from expressing, with feral vehemence and almost militant conviction, some apparently heartfelt opinion (see also certainty), alienating virtually every sentient life form (and even some politicians) within my blast zone. Either way, the idea that a few friends and an indeterminate group of potential fans, total strangers among them, have any interest in my flapdoodle du jour is as foreign to me as bagpipes to a blowfish.
Nevertheless, my doubts and concerns notwithstanding, I will stumble and bumble reluctantly forward, only faintly comforted by the knowledge that if, as I fear, no one reads this, I’ll have no cause for shame or embarrassment. But just in case (the way agnostics pray) I will attempt to keep it interesting, entertaining, perhaps occasionally thought provoking. I’ll do my best, though I’d really appreciate it if you’d take into account that this is my first time.
Now, would you please help me with this damned button?
Or should we just cuddle?