There’s a grainy, indistinct picture of me barely visible on Google Street View. You can see me through the window of the maisonette I used to live in; I’m hunched over my computer screen. It doesn’t take a genius to work out what I’m doing.

I wonder how many people have seen this, I think to myself, and if any of them think it’s hot? Has anyone masturbated to the suggestion of me masturbating? Would Google even approve?

Then I remember there’s another picture of me taken in the flat I currently live in. You can’t really see well through the slatted blinds, but it’s slightly clearer; the resolution’s a bit better, and if you look very carefully, it is suggestive of the bare-faced truth: that I am naked. You can’t see everything, obviously, but this one is definitely ILB, to the eagle-eyed viewer.

The first shot is similar to that famous one of Luigi Mangione, I think. You can’t see my face… maybe I should post it on my blog!

I haven’t posted anything on my blog for a while. I keep meaning to do that. Let’s post a picture and see how many people react.

I open my laptop and hit Print Screen, but before I can paste what I capture into Paint, everything goes dark, my mousepad stops working, my laptop morphs into amorphous goo and it’s a dream, isn’t it, it’s a bloody dream, I finally get something to blog about and it isn’t even fucking real, I mean, seriously…

Maybe I’ll think of something else.

I get up to use the bathroom. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I have an UNUSUALLY LARGE PENIS.

I can’t post a picture of that, I rationalise, but maybe I can write about my penis. I haven’t done that for a while.

Then I suddenly check myself. My penis is only UNUSUALLY LARGE when it’s erect. It definitely isn’t just as big when flaccid. Unless something odd happened in the past 24 hours, this must be another dream. Yet again something that doesn’t belong in my blog.

I give a salute to the mounted soldiers who ride past the open-topped bus I’m suddenly on, use a Tesco carrier bag to hide my junk because I’m otherwise wearing absolutely nothing, get home to the crumbling manor house/hotel thingy in which I now live, hide myself from my housemates and think about putting some clothes on, except I don’t do that.

When I finally do wake up I’m both amused at how odd my brain is and annoyed that I can’t put any of this on my blog.

And I’m really annoyed about this… so I put it on my blog.