People have often described me as a blogger. I generally shy away from the term because, to me, bloggers are boring, self obsessed narcissists who use their website mainly as a means to discuss the inconsequential minutiae of their day to day lives. On my site, I try really hard to have a point at least the majority of the time. On the off chance I’m not actively making a point about society as a whole, I am at least attempting to take the piss out of myself.
However, it seems to me that no matter how hard I try to distance myself from those who take themselves entirely too seriously, I keep getting lumped in with the group. So, I have decided to embrace the role right here and now.
This is how I plan to do it:
The very first thing I plan to do is write a post proclaiming to the world that I AM A WRITER. I will insist that I do not write my blog for my fans. Nay, I write for me! Because I am a writer! Who needs to write! I will claim that blogging is cathartic for me and I will bore the piss out of you with romantic stories of my youth where I claim my grade school teachers fawned all over my mad writing skillz. When people make the point that if I were writing strictly for myself, I could be typing it all up in Microsoft word, I will ignore them dutifully. When people ask me if I’ve ever written professionally (Or have ever gotten paid for my work), I will insist my big break is on the horizon. After all, writing is my destiny! It is what I was born to do! I will assure you of this, over and over again, until you seriously consider jamming toothpicks into your eyes. Also, I will be sure to use multiple fragments and exclamation points while making these claims. Sometimes, I may even stress words that should not be stressed. It’s my style, yo.
After I’m finished with that, I will make my obligatory hysterical post bemoaning my recent bout with writers block! All serious writers suffer from writers block and I will be no exception. I will whine that even though I’ve been sitting in front of my computer for hours, I can’t figure out what to write. In a strange, roundabout way, I will hint that my genius usually pops into my mind without warning. But today? Nothing is coming to me! I will tell you that each of my posts only took about 10 minutes to write. I will hope you will be impressed by this fact because it means I am capable of creating a lot of hilarity in a short period of time despite my errors with grammar and syntax. But in reality, you will be thinking, “That’s pretty obvious.” Also, I will pretend my post about writers block does not count as ‘writing,’ even though it did not magically appear on the page.
Once all of that is out of the way, I will finally be able to get to the good stuff. I’ll start off by telling you what time I woke up this morning and what I plan to accomplish today. I may or may not post a picture of what I am wearing. I will make special note of any ridiculous bathroom habits I have in the hopes that they will make me seem quirky and lovable to the audience I repeatedly insist I have no use for. Then, I will taxi my children around to various places in a sad, pathetic attempt to make it seem like I have a really busy life, even though the only ones who are actually doing anything are my kids. Later in the day, I will visit a restaurant whereupon I will document each and everything I had to eat. I will include a picture of said meal. I will announce that you simply have to try it! I will insist my fans are interested in this tripe and claim they depend on me for advice! My loyal subjects would have no idea how delicious Indian food was without my blog! For dinner, I will cook a meal all by myself…only this time I will include the recipe with my picture. Later in the day, I will make note of the fact I failed to accomplish the majority of my daily goals. Isn’t that funny how life just gets in the way? Am I not more relatable now?
Directly following any post I make about food, I will write another about my body issues. I will melodramatically relay to you my struggles with anorexia or bulimia and the heart wrenching effect it had on my life. I will call myself a fat cow and then post flattering self pictures so you can all tell me how beautiful I am in my comments section. After that, I will start a new work-out routine because I am so worth it! Every time I walk around the fucking block, I will be sure to document it online.
I will spend more time taking pictures of my bike than riding it. Furthermore, I will spend more time taking pictures of my kids than actually spending time with them. Also, there will be no picture ‘off limits’ to the public. Should my child be sick with the flu and utterly miserable, I will still mercilessly jam a camera in her face and post the results on the Internet.
I will have a wishlist. I gave my fans a great recipe for salsa; I deserve free stuff in return. Should I run out of money to pay my bills, I will slap up a paypal button and proceed with the begging. All those pictures I took of my children looking miserable will definitely come in handy now.
Should anyone insult me or find fault with anything I do or write, I will ignore their arguments and insist they are a jealous troll or a bully. I will call them losers because they have nothing better to do with their time than make fun of me. I will totally ignore the fact that I have nothing better to do with my time than write long, tedious blog posts about people who make fun of me. If the trolls persist, I will claim they are stalking me. I will pretend to be really frightened and lament the fact that there is so much evil in this world. After all, anyone who doesn’t worship me must be evil, right? Right?
Periodically, I will ‘take a break’ from my website. I will assert that it’s easy to get caught up in the blogging world and I will publicly chastise myself for doing so. Afterwards, I will vow to start paying attention to the things that are really important in life. I will follow up this comment with a heartwarming picture of my family.
Then, and only then, can you accurately call me a blogger.
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