Sometimes I wish my blog had a face, so I could punch it.
Look, blog. I don't love you. And actually, I think we have a toxic relationship. I'm not going to leave you -- because I need you -- but I've decided I'm not going to treat you well. And there's nothing you can do about that.
That's what I would tell my blog if my blog had a face.
If my blog were made of wood, I'd want to burn it down. Sometimes. It's a good thing my blog is not made of wood.
Look, blog. I can't make you popular. It's your own ugly face's fault that you're not popular.
That's what I want to tell my blog.
I've read all kinds of things about blogging.
How to become a successful blogger. Three easy steps and you'll be Dooce-in' it up in no time, flat!
Twenty things you should never do if you want to become a successful blogger!
These people don't want you to write about what you had for dinner. But I do.
I have a blog post for you. It's called: One thing you should never do if you don't want all bloggers to think you're a giant asshole.
Guess what it is? It's writing about what you should never do if you want to become a successful blogger. Asshole.
I can't keep up with all of it. The tweets and the twats, the endless bookmarked blogs, the networking and the bloghers and the conferences and cliques and gatherings. I'm back in elementary school, watching Carl's friends trying to get his attention. There's a warm bologna sandwich in my lunchbox. I hate bologna sandwiches.
Look, blog. I have a few minutes for you in the mornings, and then after that I'm supposedly writing a book. Stop getting in my way.
That's what I want to say to my blog.