My name is ROB TOBOR; I am the eccentric child of social networking. I came to be when mum and dad met at a Masked Ball. It was a Masked ball on a very well known social networking site which meant people didn’t have masks and everyone had a name tag. Even I think that is a bit odd for a Masked ball and I am not allowed to go to them yet. Anyway mum was, and still is a Goth who knows everything; I think she does because when ever I ask her a question she always knows the answer. Dad was at the masked ball as an android from the outer reaches of space called Zillion Plutonium (who now wonders through life as a mad but friendly witch, that’s Zillion not dad, things like that happen here). Dad has always done things over the top and arrived at the masked ball in full working android suit including lasers and things that go bleep. Mum was well impressed which was lucky because no one else was, particularly when he accidentally zapped the cat with the laser. I have asked mum and dad many times how I was the result of this but they both always say DON’T ASK. I asked dad about the cat too but he said DON’T ASK, YUK
Of course any social networking site is a strange place to be brought up and I did spend a long long time in the mists of the twilight zone like a ghost, almost real but not quite. And although I vaguely remember this time much of what I did and when I did it is lost to the winds of cyberspace, never to return. Then one particular incident made me realize I should write my diary. It was not a particularly interesting event just a few deleted comments from a social network group who did not understand the ways of British eccentricity. That is one of the problems with all these sites; use intellectual witty banter and everyone goes WHAT?............. ******** Off. I never swear or use rude language or are crude or abusive which happens quite a lot in these sites, I find that rather sad and makes having a comment deleted all the more frustrating
I did find that when I started to write it was a not always in a form understood by the rest of the world. It appears the some British like myself have a unique form of communication and the masses on social networking sites don’t understand us so I had to adapt my diary to an international market. Mixing with the movers and shakers as dad put it (I thought shakers made furniture). Dad has a bit of an obsession with armadillos. It has something to do with his days as an explorer in dark forests of South America and finding a lost kingdom which seemed to worship them. He named it The Lost Kingdom of Armadillous but when he went back to find it two years later he couldn’t find it, so calling it the lost kingdom was a good idea. I think that is when he got the dog so it is possible that it might be the Dog from the Lost Kingdom of Armadillous.
The dog is very special too and very very big and eats more than any other dog on the planet or any planet, in fact most things in our world are special or stranger of bigger or all sorts of stuff which is why my diary is rather more eventful than most. Of course none of what I do could happen without mum who is the most logical person in our world and although a fairly traditional mum, as Goth mum’s go has many, many skills. Mum has been a spy working as a double agent although I am not allowed to tell you that. She has also been a Nuclear Scientist and she sells her paintings for millions of pounds to famous art collections and can cook things that are impossible to cook. She quite often makes things for parties that glow in the dark but dad and me think that it might be because she has been a nuclear scientist. One of the more interesting things is that my world runs in parallel with that of the more physical world of your own so many of the events that happen to me are interlinked with things that happen in the physical world to you or at least those of you in Mid-Wales who are ghost writers. Of course due to the physical organic time space interface created by the electrical activity of the ghost writer’s brain patterns; a reality in one world will quite often radically change its form and structure in the world of cyberspace, my world. Even the ghost writer has little control of events in each of the two worlds which he finds he is standing between. The universe as has been said before by many a clever scientist is an awesome thing indeed and long may it remain so. One final point, well worth mentioning is that as the story progresses there are many encounters with good old fashioned swash buckling pirates and that always helps to weave a good yarn, and a cat or two. That is not weaving a cat by the way but cats are in the story, I am sure weaving cats is now illegal in Europe although they may still do it in the very remotest parts of Bolivia
