Any of this sound familiar?
Neighbor: I don’t read blogs. Why don’t you just Turn Your Blog Into A Real Book or something?
Me: What’s wrong with reading a blog? It’s free. It’s entertaining. It’s easy and it’s short and sweet.
Neighbor: Oh you know. Well, you know. So what do you hope to get out of this little obsession of yours, anyhow?
Me: It’s gratifying to express myself, the humor is cathartic for me. Oh, and I’m bringing peace in the middle East.
Neighbor: Why don’t you actually go out in the real world and do the things you waste your time blogging about?
Me: Excuse me, can you turn down the volume of your “America’s Funniest Home Videos,” – – I couldn’t quite catch that last question.
Neighbor: Right. Well you know what they say – – “Those that can – – do. And those that can’t . . . Blog.” To each his own. But how can someone possibly make any money doing this Blah Blah Blah-gging stuff?
Me: Several ways. If you get enough people reading, then advertisers will want to be on your blog. Also if you want to publish a book then…
Neighbor: Fantastic. So when are you gonna Co-Star on someone else’s website. Like going on the Oprah or Ellen show!
Me: You mean Guest Blog?
Neighbor: Oh, you’re probably not good enough for that. I heard you could get sued or in big trouble with blogging if you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Or you put your foot in your mouth? Couldn’t you?
Me: Yep, “YOU” sure could.
Mother Knows Best (About Blobs & Such)
Mother: We sent you to college for THIS?
Me: Got my B.B. degree (Bachelor’s in Blogging)
Mother: Isn’t Blogging just a fad, like Hula Hoops, Mood Rings, and Sex?
Me: Yeah, that’s right. Just like that silly old Sex trend, Ma. Lots of Hits = Multiple Blogasms.
Mother: (Blushing) Well last night I tried to read some of your recent Pillars and Poles – – and I just didn’t get what they were about.
Me: Pillars and Poles? Oh my Posts. Well, thank you for reading. Maybe you could even leave a comment.
Mother: Me? Oh, I wouldn’t have anything to say. That’s Your thing, Dear. Well, I guess I could leave a little remark about how you hardly spit-up, walked at 10 months, and by 2 years old had a vocabulary of 1,850 words. We knew right then you’d grow up to be a great, big, successful Blabber.
Me: Blogger, Ma. Blogger. And you’re not filling out my Baby Book. Just leave a simple comment that you like my writing.
Mother: Oh….I see. You want me to lie.
The Not So Sweet Sixteen
Daughter: Who gave you the idea that you could have a humor blog? You’re not ever funny around the house. Well, only when you trip over things and that one time you shrunk the living room carpet down to a bath mat.
Me: Yeah, that was hilarious. And now when anyone takes a shower, I have to tell them not to drip water on my good oriental rug.
Daughter: Why don’t you blog about recipes or crafts like other normal mothers?
Me: Because I can’t cook or glue things.
Daughter: True. But it’s major awkward that you blog about all the disrespectful stuff I say and the bad grades I get.
Me: You could just be polite and study.
Daughter: See? You’re sooo not funny. And I’m 16. When are you going to teach me how to drive already?
Me: The next time I get Writer’s Block and need some new material.
Daughter: It’s always about you, isn’t it? You’re like some kind of Attention Hogger Bragger Blogger.
Me: You know something, young Lady? I poured my whole life into you children and…
Daughter: I know, I know – – there’s a law firm crying at this very moment over their grave loss in court because you gave birth instead.
Me: So smug. I COULD have become a lawyer. But I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say that in order to be a better mother to all of you, I have to help myself be happy first.
Daughter: You get so much mileage out of that “Airplane Oxygen Mask” thing, don’t you?
And The Male Non-Bloggers Are The Most Fun!
Husband: So daily blogging is the one New Year’s resolution you’re finally able to keep?
Me: Shhhh, can I just format this last paragraph and add a title and then I’ll listen to you.
Husband: When can you stop typing and make dinner?
Me: Don’t you have other thoughts besides food?
Husband: When can you stop typing and make love?
Me: Didn’t you hear that Sex went out with Pokemon?
Husband: Can’t you at least blog about Victoria’s Secret and review lace push-up bras or something?
Me: This blog is not about things of the flesh. I have better things to write about than breasts.
Husband: Right. And you didn’t just recently dedicate a whole entire post to your own set of boobs. ???
Me: That was different. But Aha! So you have been reading my blog?
Husband: Who do you think left the comment asking what the record for largest cup size is?
Me: Okay, okay, I’ll come to bed if you let me blog about what’s about to take place there first. You can check it for accuracy and errors, I promise.
Husbad: I think I actually just found a typo. To the left here, in the blue font – – you accidentally spelled Husband with the word “bad” on the end. Unless that’s some sort of commentary on my bedroom skills?
Me: Yeah, that was intentional. But let’s have some more of your spell-checking, Honey. Keep it up. Let’s see how long you can go for.
Husbad: Man, talk about your “Proofreading Anxiety! Never mind – – WordPress can have you for the night!! (looks down sheepishly) I’ve already got “Correctile Dysfunction.”
Once Upon Your Prime 