Day 320. The Unbelievable Truth. (16/11/13)

There are some nights, nights when the page is too blank and I've nothing to say, nothing to think, nothing of worth, that I consider just making something  up and seeing if I can get away with it.

Apart from the fact that fiction would be harder to construct than memory, what would be the benefit? How do most people reading this know whether I'm telling the truth or not?

Take last night; I've no evidence that 'Jill from Rhyl' ever really existed, you'll note that there was no surname, no real detail. Until last night J had never heard anything about this brief episode that happened before we met. Who's to say that I didn't invent the whole thing on a whim? I'm genuinely more than capable. Yes, if you look on my Facebook timeline then you'll see that our kid says that he remembers it all as I do but how do you know that I haven't involved him in some vague situationist prank in order to amuse myself?

Realistically, no matter how much I appear to have spilt my guts here over the last year, no matter that some of you are close personal friends, some of you family, how much do any of you really know about me?

How do you know what, if any, of the following is genuinely true?

At various times I have taken up both boxing and judo despite having finally hit 10 stone at the age of 49.

When I was 18 I spent a month in hospital with a bizarre syndrome which was basically my blood reacting to a throat infection and deciding to poison me. Nobody knew what was wrong with me, my right arm tightened at the elbow and was stuck in a crooked position for a week, at one point my parents visited and thought that I'd died, I was thirty seconds away from an emergency appendectomy. The condition was something that you could develop at either under three or over seventy so I got it at 18. We had never heard of it before but since then both my nephew and a friend's daughter have suffered briefly from the same condition.

As a result of the above I was clinically addicted to steroids for approximately 18 months.

That top set of teeth? Yeah, not real, goes in a jar of a night. (Attractive)

When stressed I blink a lot. More with my left eye than my right. Watch for it some time now that you know it's there.

Before the age of 12 I had spent a day in Leningrad.

I speak fluent French.

I have, at various times, appeared on Sky News, Radio Merseyside, Radio City and had a comment published in Mojo magazine.

When I worked in Kwik Save there was a lad that I worked with for 18 months before realising that we had both been in the same class in infant school when I lived in Bootle.

Famous (and semi famous) people that I have met include the following;

Wendy James (Transvision Vamp)
Clark Datchler of Johnny Hates Jazz
Altern 8
KWS
Robbie Fowler and Sami Hypia
Apache Indian
And Elvis Costello's mum.

Any or all of the above could have been invented in the last hour purely to amuse myself. How would you know?

How do you know I'm even real?

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