A blog is like a pair of underwear – everyone except members of certain jungle tribes has at least one, but no one except your spouse and maybe a few close family members have ever seen yours. And if your kids ever get a glimpse of it, they will instantly become nauseated and embarrassed, possibly more than seeing your underwear. It’s best to keep your blog hidden from minors.
A typical blog entry resembles a conversation between two inebriated buddies about fifteen minutes before closing time. Souls are bared, secrets revealed, and the truth about just how ugly you really think your best friend’s new baby is all come to light. The ultimate truth serum – no alcohol required. In fact, it’s not recommended to blog while drunk as the two have been known to cancel each other out and you could wind up blogging about the exciting details of your recent lawn fertilization.
Eventually, you’ll want more out of blogging. You’ll have a naughty desire to let someone else see your underwear, but to do that you have to know how to play the blogging game. The blogging rules clearly state: In order to be read, you must go out and read strange blogs yourself. So off you go, reading and commenting in as many different blogs as you can, hoping that at least some will return the favor.
And they will, even though they really don’t want to. Let’s face it – the typical blogger would like to believe that every single earthling with an internet connection is insanely interested in their life and their life alone, so the simple act of exposing their intoxicating thoughts in their blog each day should result in approximately 42,000 comments piling up beneath each intoxicating entry. Realistically, however, they know how the game is played, so they’ll speed-read through your entry, paying attention to a few key words here and there, before leaving a very vague, very brief comment that may or may not have anything to do with your entry.
Other bloggers, who also have no desire to read your soul-baring thoughts, will follow. They’ll ignore your entry and immediately scroll down to the first comments where they’ll play follow the leader. The comment section then takes on a life of its own. This is where blogging becomes dangerous.
An example:
Blog Entry: I’d always hoped this day might come, but now I can’t stop crying. My fourth husband died last night. The same man who has done his best to ignore me for the past nine years while he did nothing but sit on the couch every night watching t.v. I never could find the strength to leave him, but now I’m free and I don’t know what to think. Frank choked to death last night on some Cheetos while watching a hockey game on the same couch he’d spent most of our marriage avoiding me. Suddenly being alone doesn’t feel as good as I thought it would. Where do I go from here?
Comment #1: Hey, I love Cheetos! Ever try the ‘Flaming Hot’ style? Too much for me!
Comment #2: I can never get that orange stuff off my fingers when I eat them, but they are SO good.
Comment #3: LOL @ Comment #2. I just pretend to hug my husband and rub it off on his shirt.
Comment #4: I only like the Puffed Cheetos myself, but Frank, my fat slob of a third ex-husband, used to sit on the couch and eat those things all….hey, where do you live?
Comment #5: I like cheese.
Then there is the opposite effect:
Blog Entry: I had the greatest day today with my kids! It’s the first time we’ve had a day all to ourselves in so long! I packed a lunch and we went to the park to enjoy the beautiful sunshine that was beaming down on us today. We had such a good time on the merry-go-round (before lunch, of course…lol), and then I couldn’t get the kids off the swings! I think I pushed them for about two straight hours, but it was a perfect day and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Thanks for letting me share my joy!
Comment #1: My husband told me he was leaving me last year while we sat on park swings. I hate swings.
Comment #2: Oh I’m so sorry, Comment #1! BIG ((((((hugs)))))) to you.
Comment #3: At least yours told you he was leaving. Mine just left. I hate men.
Comment #4: It took me years of therapy to get over the pain and anger of my bitter divorce, but then some inconsiderate blogger has to remind me.
Comment #5: I like cheese.
Both of these blogger’s spirits are now crushed, so they begin to contemplate their very existence which will no doubt be the topic of their next intoxicating blog entry. Remember, there is power to our words, so if you blog (check for a pulse….if you’ve got one, you blog), please comment responsibly.