“It’s Friday. So far this week, two people have suggested that I either write or asked if I have a blog.
Do people still read blogs?
Wouldn’t writing a blog really be pretty masturbatory?
I’m thinking it would be a great way to alienate people. Mostly because I would write about the *occasional* culture flaw that I’m nailing and others aren’t. Most of the time, I’d probably just write about crap like the ginormous fly that kept me awake last night. Where the hell did that thing come from?!?
If I could do it as equal parts pithy social commentary, epitaph/suicide note and mental housecleaning…that might be something.
After all, someone has to fill Augusten Burroughs’ shoes. Wait, he’s still alive? Awkward.”
“I think you just blogged…”
True story, I guess I did and now…here we are.
What were these friends thinking? Encouraging the occasionally mindful but generally mindless musings of – well – me. Oh, the poor eyes. Oh, the English language. Not wanting to over promise, don’t expect fancy-schmancy media and graphics. I’m not that savvy. Let’s just guarantee some ellipses abuse and some uncomfortable moments. If there’s a wise point, well made (to paraphrase that E. L. James travesty) or a laugh or two along the way, well, let’s call that a happy, little accident.