This… is ILB’s new fantasy.

“Good evening, good evening, good evening, good evening, good evening!” he trills as he walks out onto the stage and casts his eyes out over where he assumes the audience is. He can’t quite see, because of the lights. But he can hear them. There’s a smattering of polite applause.

“Whoo!” shouts his wife from the back row.

“And welcome to my show,” he presses on, walking up to the lectern with his tablet already running and displaying the right page. (It doesn’t even take that much setting up, of course, but he likes to be prepared. He’s been here for an hour already.) “Who’s already seen one of these? Okay, don’t put your hands up, I can’t see. Can we get the house lights up?”

House lights go up. ILB’s usual utterly bewildering demographic is in again. There are some pleasantly familiar faces in the mix. Some have clearly wandered in by accident. A sizeable number, it seems, have come just to get a look at him.

“For those of you who don’t know what’s going on, hello, I’m Innocent Loverboy! I’m a sex blogger.” He clears his throat. “So, this show is for adults only. If you’re under 18, then you shouldn’t be here. But then if you’re under 18 you shouldn’t be up this late, either.”

There’s a ripple of laughter.

“So here’s how this show works. I’ll read out some of my blog posts. They’re all free on my blog itself, of course, but I’ve always thought that if they hold up well enough on a page, they’d translate just as well to the spoken word, so that’s what I’m still going to be doing. And it gives me the chance to talk about me, so that’s always a bonus.”

He steps forwards, looking to the lectern.

“The paper on your tables is for requests,” he adds. “In the interval I’ll come around and collect them. It it’s related to love or sex I’ve probably written about it at some point. If there’s anything that rings a bell, I’ll pull up a blog post and read that. Basically, you’re writing the second half for me. But for now…”

Californication starts to play in the background.

“…I’ll start with a post about the Red Hot Chili Peppers. To whit, I may as well get you in the mood…”

And, by the end of the song, the audience are hanging on his every