Like my illustrious colleagues Andrea, Allan, Eric, Ike inter alia, I too am a nobody.
A weakling weighing ninety-eight pounds
Will get sand in his face when kicked to the ground.And soon in the gym with a determined chin,
The sweat from his pores as he works for his cause…
Ahhh, those Rocky Horror days… the newspapers, the water pistols, the singalongs…
I’ve always been a nobody. Last one picked for the scratch games of cricket and football in the neighbourhood; the one boy left leaning against the wall as the girls from the ‘all girls’ schools picked other boys to dance with at those horrendous school-organised torture sessions called ‘dances’; I was the last of our gang to get married (by about a decade)…
I’ve had more jobs than the Strumpette has had… well, let’s just say I’ve ‘probably’ done more jobs than her. Well, you know what I’m alluding to…
Well-meaning folks used to say, behind my back (I heard them when I listened to the bugs I’d planted on them), that I couldn’t organise drinks in a brewery, or I couldn’t organise something in a brothel (I can’t remember what).
On the internet, too, I am a nobody. Nobody reads this blog (at last count about 115 fellow nobodies, plus 13 nobodies who subscribe via feedblitz email), around 250 nobodies listen to my podcasts when I release them.
To relieve the boredom of my otherwise gray, meaningless, featureless and pathetic little life I read the blogs of other nobodies, like those on the right hand side of this blog (down a bit) and a few more besides.
But in a perverse, pathetic little way I am proud to be a nobody. [Update:] After all, I could be called ‘Badger Dan’, but I wouldn’t wish that on anyone 
Nobodies of the world, unite!
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