I guess most of you are wondering what to expect from me. Like Simon (or No.2 Son as he is affectionately known), I work full time. Unlike No.2 Son, I actually do work while I am in the office, and as such will have far less time to spend on the blog. I unfortunately lack the time to read everyone else’s blog each day, so I apologise to Helen and Hemlock and whoever else for not adding to your hits for the next two weeks.

I also am unable to change anything to do with the blog, nor do I automatically receive your witty and funny comments. I will try and read all your responses, but won’t be able to give you the instant responses you have come to know and love.

So a little about myself.

Yes, I am the brother who just got married. No. 2 Son only has one brother, and he is very lucky I have hung around this long. His speech was hilarious in much the same way that watching a body fly from a car crash is hilarious. Fortunately, I long ago learned the art of transcendental meditation, and was able to send my mind to a desert island with Liz Hurley while programming my mouth to laugh whenever No. 2 Son paused. It seemed to do the trick, though I was later told my laughing was inappropriate when No. 2 Son raised a toast to those who have departed.

Married life so far to the other Mrs M is wonderful, though pretty much the same as pre-married life was with Miss Z except we have more cutlery and crockery and a much smaller bank account.

I live in Australia, a country that is remarkably sensible (with the exception of everything that has happened since John Howard came into power). I am left wing politically, though I am itching for those upper class tax cuts. I live about 2 minutes from Bondi Beach, which is one of the best places in the world (with the exception of 12pm to 6am Friday and Saturday nights, in which case on British backpackers keen for a fight would be happy there).

Hopefully that is enough to keep you interested until the next post. If not, feel free to not read for two weeks till No.2 Son returns.

If you have any questions or want to know anything about me, just ask and don’t be too offended when I either ignore you or dob you in to the FBI as a terrorist (there is a sliding scale).

And as a warning, it is probably best if nobody asks much about anything to do with rugby league in Australia, or else be prepared for a very, very long response.