An important message from the illusion exotic.
Hello there. I’m the blog. No, not the writer, I’m the actual blog. Don’t look surprised, I bet your blog can talk, too. Its rare, because our writers usually do the “talking” for us. Brian is away right now, probably watching TV without his shirt on. I want to know, how can a human be so bald on one part of their body as so damn hairy everywhere else? I know, its a gross image, but you don’t have to stare at him when he’s writing with his shirt off. He needs to lay off the peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches, too. Really. I wish I could disable the digital camera, like, forever.
It could be worse. I know some of you write naked. You, there. Yes, you. Do us all a favor and quit eating the Doritos. Its gross where the crumbs are falling.
Seriously, though, I’m just glad when he’s writing something on me, anything, shirt or no shirt. A active blog is a happy blog! A neglected and abused blog has homicidal thoughts. I’M JUST KIDDING! HA! HA! HA! ha ha…. ha. :)
I need a favor. As you carbon-based lifeforms say, “Can you do a bro a solid?” Why? Because this is all your fault. You other writers told him that he needed a blog to help sell his books. He believed you. The poor bastard really believed you. You owe me, and every other poor blog that paid the price for a desperate writer’s career.
First, PLEASE don’t tell Brian we talked. I’m doing this behind his back (which is equally gross without a shirt). Even though this is in his best interest, he wouldn’t understand. You won’t mention it? <whew> Thanks, I knew I could count on you. Anyway, if you did tell him I would find out, and then things could get unpleasant. Now that we have that out of the way, here’s why I’m talking to you today. OH, SWEET MOTHER OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, HE'S GOING TO KILL ME! (deep, cleansing breaths) :) :) You see, its like this. Brian has a bad habit of killing blogs. He doesn’t mean too, I swear. He’s a good guy, and his heart is in the right place. At least at first. Usually. He brings baby blogs home with the best of intentions. He takes care of them for a few weeks, writes on them, posts funny memes (he LOVES memes!), you know, the usual. He is a funny guy, but he writes some really interesting serious blog posts, too. Things always start out great. But then things change. He promises to post an article a week, but then misses a post or two. He’s tired. Its been a long day. He has to drive those kids somewhere. He can get lost on Facebook and Twitter, too. He calls it “marketing.” I call it goofing off. HA! HA! HA! HA! Ha! Ha. ha. ha. (He’s funny that way.) If that’s all it was, however, the first blog would be here today, happily displaying Brian’s writing talent and not having this conversation with you. That blog is dead.
It starts when he sits down to write one of those damn books. In fact, he has his next manuscript open in a window beside to me right now. The Golden Princess…what kinda title is that, anyhow? She’s on the other side of the computer screen, just staring at me and probably thinking my only purpose in life is to market her and Brian’s other books. She thinks she’s better than me, no doubt. She’s only half finished, but looking good. And she knows it, too. The nerve!
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes, bitch, close the window or put a damn cover on!”
Oh yeah, everyone just loves books. Blogs aren’t good enough. Blogs aren’t sexy enough. People gotta buy books, and cherish them their entire lives. Blogs are only good for a few minutes pleasure. Go ahead, just click on us, have your way and run off…probably to Amazon to buy a BOOK!
You know, they used to burn books
I’M JUST KIDDING! HA! HA! HA! ha ha….
ha. (i’m ok. see, a happy face :) ) (I hope you catch a virus) He’s started at least four other blogs, you know. Blogs he loved, and then neglected until they withered away and DIED. They say nothing really goes away on the internet. Lie. The NSA might have them catalogued somewhere, but as far as I know those blogs are DEAD. Remember “brianlbraden dot com”? Neither does anyone else. He used to have several on Weebly, but, mercifully, he actually deleted those. I’ll be lucky if thats what happens to me. He just let his old Xomba blog evaporate into the ethernet. Faded away. My god, the thought alone is terrifying. His Goodreads blog is on life support, but that’s okay. All they talk about on Goodreads is books. No one likes Goodreads, anyway. Goodreads is stupid. Let it DIE. Here’s the deal; I’ve got two posts under my belt, one of which is a recycled old post from one of his previous blogs. Do you know what that’s like for a blog? Resurrecting dead blog posts is creepy, like wearing dead skin. Can you say Z-O-M-B-I-E! Its a miracle I’m still sane. Miracle. :) Why me? Why couldn’t I have gotten a nice master, one that blogged about stuff people care about like recipes, movies, or ISIS. I’m going to be a joke, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. Or is there? YOU HAVE TO HELP ME! (remember to breathe…happy face, happy face, happy face :) :) :) ) Everything is fine. Just fine. What I‘m trying to say is that if enough people care, maybe he won’t kill me. If he sees people “like” this blog maybe he’ll write on it more often. Read his posts. Like them. Share them via any social media altar you happen to worship at. C’mon, its only a click of your mouse. Are you really that lazy that you won’t LITERALLY lift a finger to save my life? My god, what the hell is wrong with you people? You’ll change your Facebook profile picture to save transgendered penguins in the Himalayas, but you won’t do anything to save a poor, innocent blog in the hands of a shirtless psychopath? I bet you would care if I was a BOOK! I’M JUST KIDDING! HA! HA! HA! ha ha…. ha. (I left my medication around here somewhere) Save me. Please <gulp> buy his books.
(did I really say that? I feel so dirty)
Please don’t tell him we had a talk. He hasn’t opted to upgrade me yet to a premium blog, and retribution would be just too easy at this early stage. Right now, I just don’t think I can handle any more stress. He’s coming back. Quick, act natural! (oh.my.god. He’s not wearing a shirt again).
Helen Paton
7/24/2015 06:52:33 am
The cake at the end is a Fruitcake! Happily, many people love fruitcake. Those that don't? There's plenty of nuts. ;-) Comments are closed.
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