But times, they are a-changing and its high-time this phrase was applied to blogging. Not Anchored Cubicle, mind you, which provides humor and witty insight, but for all those people out there who use blogs to write deeply and passionately about their life. Or who just write stupid blibber blabber.
That's right. Blibber blabber.
I've scoured the web and collected some of the most ridiculous things I could find posted on blogs. And commented on them, of course.
"Because, despite my personal satisfaction and relative success level (and every little bit helps in this world), I know for a fact, 100%, that I can do better.
And I am on the threshhold right now."
And I am on the threshhold right now."
You're on the threshhold? Really? Well, please jump off of it. Now. And curl yourself up like you're doing a cannon-ball. And hold your breath. And don't stop, just in case the fall isn't enough to kill you.
"What's wrong with me? I'm moderately busy and have a great group of friends... but I'm lonely."
Maybe you're just not that busy and your friends really aren't that great. Time to evaluate.
"My eyes are sparkling today. Not when you look at them... from the inside out. I'm up to the brim in faerie dust. I feel like if someone were to cut my neck and let my head swing, fountains of faerie dust would bubble out. I haven't felt this way for so long. "
Wait - this isn't the first time you've actually felt that if someone cut your neck, faerie dust would bubble out? If this was your first time, I wouldn't be too concerned - its a fairly common thing. Like diarrhea. But you know what the say: if diarrhea persists for more than three days, consult your doctor.
"I could write about so many more things in my life, but I just don't feel like it. I don't know what it is, but I just don't feel like documenting my life for anyone, and I don't really want to share my feelings."
Ummh...then don't write anything at all. I mean, you do know that by writing that you "don't feel" like documenting your life and sharing your feelings , you are, in fact, documenting your life and sharing your feelings. Betch.
"If I didn't know what it felt like to be free, I would have gone insane by now...well, I have, already, but I would have likely been unable to revert the damage. "
I welcome any and all responses to this because I'm lost.
"I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna get."
Not true. Let me break this down. Its called a "job." Which will earn you a "paycheck." Which allows you the opportunity to "buy" the things you're going need. And if you're talking about not being satisfied with the untangible things in your life, then stop wasting your time writing about it, get off your ass, and do something about it.
"It's puzzling to me, how we dismsis the older generations. They are crazy, they are becoming senile...they are losing it. I wonder what would happen if we started taking them most seriously of all. After all, aren't they closest to the other side? Whatever that is. Aren't they, in the same way as babies to our own species, the most susceptible? The most impressionable? Shouldn't we be listening to them?"
NO! You just said they are crazy, senile, and losing it! Why would we listen to them? You say that we should maybe take them seriously because they're the closest to the other side, which is the strangest way to imply that someone has aquired wisdom, and then immediately compare them to babies because they are "susceptible" (to what, I wonder) and "impressionable." That's like saying that someone is both like and elephant and an ant. Shut up. You're not deep. You're not enlightened. You want us to listen to old, senile, wise, impressionable babies. Great. You're blog rocks.
Bloggers everywhere, heed my advice: don't take yourselves so effing seriously in your blogs and try to write something deep and personal. That's what private journals are for. Tell a funny story. Give mundane details of of the generic events of your day. Make fun of someone. Write some social commentary. Type "betch" over and over again.
Betch. Betch. Betch. Betch. Betch. Betch. Betch. Betch. Betch.