London Prepped

Hollywood rarely makes films about Hollywood because audiences don't really care.

Which I guess is much the same as blogging. Blogging about blogging can be a little tedious but I thought I'd make an exception.

In May last year there was a blog that was only about a month old.

I don't know if the person who wrote the blog noticed me or if I noticed them but an e-mail arrived. (Thanks to GMail, all these things are saved...)

It reads something like:

"Hi there,
I have a blog but I wanted some people to read it. Do you have any advice on how I could promote it maybe?
Cheers."

I wrote back that I wasn't really sure but I would write something on my blog to tell people about him.

He said he was only getting about 50 hits a day and no comments. He said he'd like just a few more people to read what he'd taken the time to write.

I posted the following...

"I want to introduce you to a person whose blog I've found.
He lives in London and, in a rather unnerving and breezy fashion, details just how much he's destroyed his life.
At the moment he's teetering on the edge of an addiction to painkillers.
And occasionally he flogs his sweaty underwear on eBay.
It's all rather amusing in the same way that a car crash on the M25 is.
I think you'll enjoy reading it, just as I do.

Here's a link to that blog...

Don't get me wrong. A blog is a blog is a blog - nothing more. It's writing on the internet, done by someone you've never met.

However sometimes you do end up following what people have written and taking an interest in their condition.

I've never properly met London Preppy, we've probably exchanged no more than 10 words in real life but somehow I feel like I know him. That's the funny thing with these blogs.

Tomorrow I could be sat next to him or any one of you on the Central Line, if you were in London. We are nothing more than a few words in cyberspace. I am not Bobby. I am not a blog. I am none of this. But thanks to a few words, on here, I am everything.

Now, nearly 18 months later it's time to change what I first wrote.

I once read about a guy on the internet who used to think he had destroyed his life but I don't think it was destroyed. The last I heard he went to Sydney. I hope he went and found what I think he was looking for.

So farewell then London Preppy.

But before you go, I have just one thing to admit....

Okay, I did actually end up wearing them on the beach. And I pulled someone as a result, so they worked.

Anyway.

All the very best and I think you owe me a signed fucking copy of the book when it appears.