Blogging, a way of life

Despite its suffering from a painfully bad name, blogging is really serious business. But first, come on, blogging? Do I really have to tell people that I have a blog? It sounds like a form of herpes. Or, a term, ala dingleberry, for, oh let's say, bits of spit that fly from one's mouth. I can hear a person exclaiming, "Oh my God, I just totally blogged." Or, "Did you notice the way that Mr. Jones is blogging while he talks? He's so obnoxious. Tell him to wipe his mouth after he eats."

Because I have a little free time on my hands, and because I abhor doing things that are truly productive, I've given some thought to what is wrong with this term. It's quite simple. The bl combination doesn't work well as a beginning for any word. I present a few others from www.morewords.com (and I urge you to go to this website, if you, too, abhor productivity and/ or exercising your own brain's ability to think of bl words): blabber, blackball, bladder, blame, blanched, blather, bleach, bleary, bleep, blemish, blellum . . . http://www.morewords.com/word/blellum/. (Yes, blellum. Not a word? The website says it is. Indeed, the website, which I did not check for reliability, has something of a complex.)

Ah yes, with Greta in school and Graham napping well, I have some new found free time. And you, gentle reader, have just witnessed the fruits of my free time. I blog a silly little blog. There are, however, others out there who take this bloggery very seriously. They are making MONEY from blogs every bit as stupid as my rant.

I get the blogs like gofugyourself (to which I always want to say, no you go fug YOURself). I would expect the star-studded stories and mockery to bring in the dough.

But, someone has to explain icanhascheeseburger. This fine piece of (what is it, writing? journalism? work???) brings is an estimated $5,600 a month? What? Call me jaded in the animal department perhaps, but it's just not funy or cute. It's just not. I'm sure that any self-respecting animal would balk at its depiction if they got a good look at the blog too. If animals are that innocent and dumb, then how did my cat know that waking up my daughter would get me out of bed, thus allowing him access to my warm bed? Not cute, not funny, not innocent, not stupid. (And also, as a side note, not a foreign accent. That's reserved for fictional animals.)