I RIGHT WRONG...

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 3^rd 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.