Fake it ’til you make it

Remember when I said I’ll write what I want, when I want?  Yeah, I wasn’t kidding.  3 years later and this is the first post I’m actually (planning on) sharing. Go figure.

Being an auditor making his way through the ranks of the business world has its perks, albeit that they’re often more sparse than nuns in a brothel.
With you having barely slipped your hairy nether regions into freshly laundered undies after writing that one 8 hour examination, you’re shoved – kicking and screaming – in front of hundreds of new faces; New, old  faces who all seem so knowledgeable, so experienced and so… scary.

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I dare you not to read my blog

Sandbag - What my abs look like.

I’m a nobody.

If you, by some miraculous misfortune, found your way to this blog, I expect you’ll be thoroughly disappointed in the fact that I am no celebrity.  I have no claim to fame. I’m no self-made billionaire, no Ghandi, no property mogul, no prophet. Considering my abs  have the definition of a sandbag, it’s unlikely that I’m a world-renowned fitness expert and, despite what I would have my better half believe, I am certainly no Casanova.

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