Well I’ve learnt a blogging lesson. My attempt at short posts a few weeks ago was a dismal failure – partly due to my lack of follow-through, partly due to my distrust of brevity – and apparently some of you actually like/accept my ranting style, self-described as ‘observational whining’ (there’s, like, a category and all).
In fact my distrust of brevity is a lie: in the workplace I’m all ‘give them what they need to know, and nothing more.’ I don’t want the message to get lost, or for my underlings/overlords to be all tl;dr. I’ve had to learn to fluff out work emails with niceties and the workplace-appropriate versions of smiley-faces so that a straightforward change in process email isn’t misinterpreted as ‘rarrr rarrr do it minions rarrr!’ It’s more effective if you imagine me as a t-rex flapping my ineffectual arms around. Coz that’s how those emails are generally received.
But in this wee corner of the blogosphere I DO WHAT I WANT.
In fact this is also a lie: if I could do what I want I would be the Grace Helbig of the blogging world, or the Le Clown of the blogging world (wait, he IS the Le Clown of the blogging world), and you minions would flock to me like sheep on New Zealand (OMG outside of NZ in-joke. Coz seriously, it’s all cows now. *If you know what I mean*). We’d laugh, we’d cry. You’d love me, I’d love you. We’d all marry each other no matter our sexuality, race, nationality, Visa status, desire for each other, desire for marriage, or ability to meet in person, coz Marriage Equality is the shiznit. I’m using old school cool lingo coz WHY WASN’T THIS DONE AND DUSTED AGES AGO?!
Anyways, I’ve buried the point deep like point-ception, but I think it’s lurking in my back-lobe somewhere…. oh yeah! I wrote a post yesterday full of ‘why am I sad?’ and ‘I’m trying to be happy’ and, like, FEELINGS. Feelings are weird but you can’t avoid them. Much like your weird cousin Barry. But just like Barry, they get better with alcohol. Or MUCH worse. It depends on your feelings, and the inner workings of your cortexes (cortices?) and, well, Barry. Maybe Barry breaks out the soppy karaoke when he’s drunk. Maybe he thinks he can breakdance and breaks Aunt Hilda’s hip in the process. Maybe he punches Aunt Hilda in the face. Why is Barry at a Wedding? I don’t know. Someone get that bitch a taxi.
But I’ve learnt something about blogging (ohhh yeah, there’s the point, we’re there, people) based on my stats spike yesterday (and the numerous direct comments, but I’m gonna pretend I’ve inferred this shit. Correlation and stuff). Despite all the words (always too many words, yes, I do know this, and possibly too many goddamned parentheses), my readers like pictures!
Pictures are like reading with the eyes. Wait… there’s something wrong with that… wait… I’ll get it… no, I’m good.
Well, if you want pictures, you lazy, good-not-for-reading f***ers (fudgers, that’s totes what I’m saying), that’s what you’ll get. Although, as a safety warning, please remember that when I promise you things, they are HIGHLY UNLIKELY to ensue. But this me looks hopeful about it:
Also, is it just me, or was this a SUPER-SHORT post?
- one way or another (michalvazana.wordpress.com)
- My Name is Le Clown: For We are Many (theyearofhalloween.com)
- Le Clown and Me in the Dirty D (thechowderhead.com)
- I Can’t Write Worth Shit – The Year of the Snake Edition (clownonfire.wordpress.com)
- Blog Pressing Love Stalk (painpointsrequirements.com)
- A Trip to BBW, And A Heartfelt Tribute to Yours Truly. (youvebeenhooked.wordpress.com)
- Sharing the Wealth (clownonfire.wordpress.com)