Blog words

I've just been browsing through blogs, and I have some questions.

1. Why are so many people searching for their identity? I always keep mine in my wallet, but I'm hardly ever asked for it anyway. Is it really that important?

2. Why are so many of you just? Just a mother. Just another 18-year-old sex-crazed student. How come you think so little of yourself, but then expect us to be interested in what you say?

3. Why is your blog full of random thoughts? Are they really random? How do you know? Also, why do you want to rant and rave? I found somebody who ruminated, so perhaps we are collectively reaching the end of the R section of the dictionary. Also, quite a few of you muse. I guess yours were earlier blogs and you hadn't got to the Rs yet.

Some of you write very well, I should add. I don't notice anything particularly random (except for the occasional spelling). You do not rant, rave, muse, or ruminate. Why do you claim that you do? I don't get it.

4. Why are so many of your lives insane, crazy, lunatic or at least not normal. Why? You even seem proud of it. What's wrong with being normal, like me?

5. Also, why do you need to vent? Do you have a malfunctioning valve?

6. If you must insist on telling me all about everything you did today (and don't warn me in advance that it was boring so that I can stop reading) at least try to make it a good read. Today I read something like this:

This morning I overslept the alarm by 5 minutes and got up in a hurry and had breakfast. While I was eating breakfast, the dog farted. Oh, gross. Then I had a shower and changed my clothes...

Stop right there. Let me show you how it's done.

This morning at breakfast time the dog farted. He was standing with his bum up against the gas stove and the resulting explosion took out most of the kitchen. I was not hurt aside from ending up with my head wedged in the cookie jar.

This did not actually happen, you understand, but it could have, if we had a gas stove. As it was we merely had to evacuate the kitchen.

And that's enough, really. You do not need to write about the rest of your day, especially as you say at the end of your one very, very long paragraph that it was boring. (That should have been at the beginning, by the way.) You could even skip the second paragraph. On the Internet nobody knows you're lying, and at least you'll make us laugh. (On the Internet everybody laughs at other people's horrible accidents.)

Speaking of farts, this morning at sparrowfart I asked The Man whether he thought sparrows do actually fart. He looked at me for a moment and closed his eyes.

"Fuck off," he mumbled.

I gathered that he wasn't quite ready to wake up yet.

The other day we were talking about swearing in another language and how it never feels quite as bad as swearing in your own language. We also talked about how in the movies people swear all the time, and, I'm told, in real life, too. (I do not swear, of course, and I do not associate with people who do.)(Well, maybe a few of them do, but only sometimes.)(And maybe I do too, but only sometimes.) I told him that I thought it was silly to swear all the time, because if you say "Fuck off" every time you really just mean "Can we talk later?" eventually it starts meaning, "Can we talk later?" and loses its shock value.

The Man looked interested. "Really?" he said, and decided to experiment with this idea.

As I drifted back to sleep this morning I reflected that in a very short while his experiment is going to stop being funny.


I had a boring day today. Nothing much happened.