The more I read blogs and other peoples writing on the internet
or in the family alone (ED, CISSY) I realize I suck as a writer. Using such
words as those I cannot fathom to include in a write up, I find myself at 36
writing to an audience of 7 year olds. How do I mean? Well, in my writing,
people like Aydan (9) and Carly (7) could read it and understand every word of
it (minus the occasional bleeped words of course). They wouldn’t have to
consult with a Roget’s thesaurus or in this day and age the Rogett’s app. Is it one T or two? I dunno.
(Side note, it’s pronounced “Rog-eys” not “Rog-its” like I thought.
Thanks Trebek. You properly- pronounced Doosh. I love Sean Connery, but only impersonated
on SNL.)
Yet as I write this it still hits me weird that an odd
1,000+ hits have been associated with my blog. There’s only 54 posts up, but it
has been looked at 1000+ times. I have told not many about the blog, it’s at
the end of every email I send though, so maybe the occasional couponner I correspond
with may check out my blog.
I told a guy at work about it, and I have a friend named Mike
too so maybe he follows. Maybe not. But I know that there’s too many parents
with an outward lack of imagination for boys’ names. How many Mikes do you
know? I know so many that I call most of them by another name, like their last
name or a goofy nickname.
The name Peter would probably be a cool overly used name if
in fact it wasn’t associated with the long (duck) dong in your pants. Then again,
could you imagine telling your gal to hold off while your archangel gets its
wings? Maybe that’s how the bloodflow became associated with maxi pads. (They
have wings too!) Is this how the bull turned red? (They give you wings)
The problem and beauty of this blog is its simplicity and
its derisions from the title of the post I guess. I wish I knew what derisions
meant, or even if it is used correctly. But to sound smarter than I am I will
leave it in. Remember that it is dumbed down due to it being then figured out
as I write the first sentence. It’s thinking out loud as the fingers type.
Do you hear the voice in your head when you write anything
or do you just argue with your own conscience as to what sounds right or should
be on the paper? I think of the schizophrenic side of me fighting to get words
on to paper too fast screaming loud enough for me to hear it. Then I argue
with the walls of my apartment and hope the walls don’t think I am a bad writer…
Which brings us full circle.
I wish I was a better wordsmith.
And thanks for checking these posts out. It’s fun to know my
stone cold sober (and sometimes stoned only) inner thoughts make people happy
enough to come back and read, and even sometimes print and give to others to
enjoy.
III
Ps. Yes, this is a stall because I have no clue as to how I will
start my godson’s 3rd birthday poem, now 9 days late and counting. .
. maybe inspiration will come at work tomorrow. It’s ok though, he’s too young
to remember. Yet karma is pissed with me. And hatching a plan I am unaware of. Damn that karma.
