Hoooo-kay, so I feel a little dumb that I am forever talking to myself via this blog.
I often wonder is it really the epitome of narcissism to have a public blog?
A place where you do all the talking...and you're not sure if anyone else but YOU is listening...?
A spot where you spill details of your oooooh so boring life and hope others feel sorry for you, laugh at you, shake their heads and thank their lucky stars that they're not as weird as you...?
Hmmmm, now that's deep.
And now my head hurts.
No really, I do wonder who reads this thing...?
I know my mom does (and in case you stop by and read the posts and happen to happen upon the comment section..you will surely see some comments from her, my greatest fan.)
I know my sister Susan doesn't ...AND THAT'S OKAY....YEAH IT'S FINE, REALLY. WHATEVER....(you bimbo).
I want you to know that while I appreciate the idea of YOU... I have no real proof that you exist in any other place but my head, inside my imagination....?
Somewhere out there beneath the pale moonlight....(wow, now that is a beautiful sentiment, maybe someone should *cap on that and write a song)...
So somewhere out there beneath the pale moonlight are my blog readers...maybe.
I could probably justify writing this blog just for me...but then I would probably be forced to ask myself why not just get a diary where you could use vulgar language up the ship-shoot (or is it Shit-shoot?) and not bother to care that you may offend a reader, a reader who could be a Catholic Nun, or a Kindergarten teacher.
A place where your improper grammer and your msipellt words wouldn't matter none at tall ~
A person could use her diary to write all kinds of secretive things and then one day long after rigor mortis has set in and the house has been thoroughly scoured for valuables (ummm, don't bother) the kids would come across the tattered time worn book, they'd peel back the aged pages and open it longing for some grand adventure (ever see Bridges of Madison County...?) to unfold itself... (again, don't bother I'm a true blue kinda girl).
I guess I already am an open book...
So why write a blog..?
I don't know...why are you asking me?...I wasn't asking you! I was asking my blogging audience...How do you know you have a blogging audience?...I don't, but I can't admit that I'm just talking to myself I would appear insane. You are insane. No I'm not. Yes you are.
The truth of the matter is that I use this blog instead of using Daddio...he's threatened on more than one occasion to knock my teeth down my throat if I say one more sappy word or spew one more flowery sentence in his general direction...If I try to look deep into his eyes and tell him how he rocks my world he beats me off (not literally so get your freakin filthy mind out of the gutter) him. And calls me Mrs.Roper.
Please leave me a comment.
I'm begging you.
Somewhere out there beneath the pale moonlight sum-one is going to cahhhh-ment and
make my life such fun.
Psssst..Susan, you can comment anonymously (wink).
*cap on that (Urban dictionary definition #20 meaning to capture...the preceding 19 definitions are defining things to do with either weed or penises...if you go there, don't say I didn't warn ya).