Blogging is hard.
I’m not one of those bloggers who write every day. I can’t. I mean, I don’t get paid for it, people simply read my stuff for entertainment purposes; to get a laugh–forget the calamities of the day.
And, let’s face it; how much fascinating, humorous crap can you talk about without sounding like a looped recording that plays while you’re on infinite hold with Comcast?
Your call is very important to us. We appreciate your patience. Your new wait time is…..forty…..five minutes.
I try to write about the real stuff that happens to me, because I’m betting a large sum of money that the shit which happens to me also happens to you.
I can blog about vacuuming, but I’ve already done that. I’m crazy to have four dogs–let that be for the record. I should give my vacuum a name since I feel it’s become part of an intimate part of my family. It’s become an extension of myself–kind of like a prosthesis that can do stuff the normal arm can’t. I use it every day and we often have conversations together because I’m just so amazed at how agile it is in getting into such tight spots.
It’s a contortionist. He was in Cirque de Soliel. I shall name it Vladimir and give it tights.
I can blog about getting the insane amount of paperwork through e-mail or snail mail with regard to income taxes. I see the huge pile on my desk and I just stare at it.
One more week, I say to myself.
I’ll handle it in a few days, I say to myself.
I don’t think I’ve received all the paperwork yet, I say to myself.
I can blog about the fact that my fireplace needs a major overhaul, which is not the end of the world. I mean, our house is old. My husband likes to shove an entire tree log into our fireplace and light it with a match. Watching it go up in a blaze of glory, he seemed to have forgotten that we have a narrow chimney, and only three logs at a time should be allowed. We had chimney fires and didn’t realize it. I mean, who bothers to go outside and look at the top of their chimney to see if there are flames coming out of it rather than the allowable smoke?
Not you? Me neither.
So, I went back into my archives of the hundreds of blogs I have written over the years. Some of them are in my book, Angry Birds and Beehive Hair–A short story collection of real life drama, but the newer ones I’ve written are not.
We can discuss, ad-nauseom, about my journey to hearing loss, but it’s better for you to read about it since I’m starting to leave shit out–really important shit–that you need to know about. I Can Finally Hear Birds has been read by hundreds of people with really great reviews. I’m very happy that people have discovered the book funny and helpful.
Anyway, I decided to pull a few of my blog posts for funny reading since I have absolutely nothing of importance to blog about at this point in time, but felt compelled to pound my fingers on my keyboard to keep my fingers nimble and my keyboard from feeling depressed and unloved.
Enjoy the reading, nod your head in agreement at what I’ve written, and like it, tweet it, comment on it, or print it out and use it for toilet paper. If you do the last one, I won’t call you an ass-wipe, I promise. I leave that name specifically tagged for family members.