Right.
I want to be a sports journalist. All of my friends (and some others) know this after my constant, pompous reminders. While I smugly proclaim that I am chasing this dream job, these people have to be content with the knowledge that - unless I'm the 1 in 10,000 shot - I will be on about £457 a year covering Carshalton vs Met Police every week. Don't get me wrong, that'd be a great game for the first ten times, but I'm aiming a little higher than that.
So, to plump up my C.V and to impress my grandparents, I have decided (well, been persuaded) to start a blog. I hope you enjoy my pointless musings and I hope that you read my verbal diarrhoea (thanks spell-check) of your own accord...unless you're my girlfriend...in which case, you will be forced to laugh at my hilarious wit.
What makes me different? I have no idea, let's find out...hopefully I'm not yet another blog-standard wannabe.
Cheers!
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