Must Love Blogs
Must Love Blogs, The Musical
Cat: I see by your outfit you are a blogger.
Dog: I see by your outfit you are a blogger, too.
Both: We see by our outfits we are both bloggers.
Both: If you get an outfit you can be a blogger, too.
The scene takes place at the airport. Two younger gorgeous people are doing the I’m-late-for-my-flight routine and comically bump into each other at the same counter when their flights are canceled. What are the odds?
It turns out they know each other. What are the odds? They recognize each other. What are the odds? They go back to those hard, little uncomfortable seats and show each other their devices. (You can’t make this up.)
“So, what do you do?”
“I’m a blogger.” He says it like its the most interesting thing in the world.
“That is so crazy and weird, because I’m a blogger, too!”
Instantly their love “goes viral.” Naturally. I mean, what are the odds? Two bloggers? In the same airport??? In a country of 311 million people?????? Where only 300 million actually pump out “content” on a regular basis? (Incidentally, that leaves absolutely no one with enough time to actually read this shit.)
Trudeau: Alright, we’ve got a body in the morgue that seems to have died twice. Assuming it’s not a computer error, what do we assume?
John McClane: That somebody’s about to seriously fuck with this airport.
Trudeau: What the hell is that supposed to mean? I mean, I know we’re dummies up here, McClane, so give us a little taste of your brilliant genius! I mean, you talking about a hijacking, a robbery or what?
Hell, the only people who don’t blog are those brain dead in comas and the White family from the Appalachian Mountains of Boone County, West Virginia. And those folks already have video biographers following them around 24/7.
In a world where even three-year-olds have blogs is it really that amazing that two bloggers should meet in an airport? Did I ask you about the odds? Is that really a story worth telling?
The two bloggers get so excited about it all that they sprint through the airport like O.J. Simpson hopped up on Red Bull. Until …
WTF? They run into a new Sears refrigerator? Just sitting there? Out on the concourse?
I had suspension of disbelief going on but this is just too much. Unbelievable! I mean, how in the hell did a refrigerator get past the Transportation Security Administration’s screening agents?
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WordPress Rants
I love WordPress. Okay, enough of that love fest. Let’s get into the rants.
Today I only have three rants. Well, four, if you count the fact that I’m rapidly approaching 1,000 days of posts without missing a single day and I’ve never been Freshly Pressed. If an infinite number of monkeys at an infinite number of typewriters given an infinite amount of time can produce the complete works of William Shakespeare, surely even an idiot like myself could hit pay dirt one time? Come on!!! Meanwhile I know a lot of people who have been there, done that, and within only a week of launching their blogs. Ah, the fortunate ones.
Feedback like “you suck” is really valuable. At least here in the Abyss. Actually, I commend them wholeheartedly for enforcing certain standards. If I was to be Freshly Pressed, I’m sure it would be like matter and anti-matter touching. It would destroy the universe as we know it. And practically no one wants that!
Anyway, I promised rants. Here we go.
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Guru Comic: Freshly Depressed
The Guru says: Never achieve your dreams because, after that, you’ve got nothing left.
M is for Milestone
… 997 … 998 … 999 … 1,000! Ready or not, here I come!
Hey, where did everyone go? You mean I’ve been all by myself this whole time? Wow. Who knew?
Yes, I’m as subtle as always. No doubt you can tell by now: This is my 1,000th blog post!
Yeah! Exciting, isn’t it? “M” is the Roman numeral for 1,000. I get it. Clever. Mildly. Erm, whatever. Okay, now what?
Humans sure do love counting things, don’t they? 1,000 posts? That’s almost as interesting as how many rotations around the sun you’ve lived.
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Freshly Flailing
And now a reading from our Demotivational Dictionary:
freshly flailing – when a comment from a newbie to your blog sparks the tiniest seed of hope that maybe, just maybe, your blog has been featured on WordPress’ Freshly Pressed page when, of course, it hasn’t.
Ex:
“I was freshly flailing this morning.”
Rest easy, world. It’s another day and the pigs are still not flying out of my butt.
WordPress foolin’ around
I see that my blog’s site stats for April 1, 2011, are going slightly nuts. In fact, the bar is exactly 10 times bigger than it should be. Something tells me the WP gremlins are having a little fun in honor of the date.
That’s all well and good, but what they should be doing is working up new algorithms that will, someday, make my blog get featured as Freshly Pressed.
Don’t laugh. It could happen. Yeah, like when monkeys fly out of my butt.
Shouts from the Abyss 
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