To all my new stalkers, so kindly bestowed upon me by the “Freshly Pressed” fairies….
Not only did you click to read, you clicked to stalk. You double clicked.
And I thank you for your efforts and intimate interest.
You follow a man so new to this blogging landscape. Only a few weeks ago I wandered alone, peeking behind me to see scant but my wife and child; a dismal literacy rate of 50%.
I fantasize that you are all staring at your screen, eagerly awaiting my brand new post. My blog is the only one on your mind, thoughts of Tony Horton covered in spew still fresh and begging to be replaced. You’ve stayed up all night, my post like the newest version of the iPhone; you must have it now and there is no substitute (I’m looking at you, you stupid green robot).
However, lets be honest with each other, dear stalkers. You most likely added me as a passing interest, a blog among thousands, with this ultimatum:
“If you don’t entertain, I will find another. So dance, puke boy.”
And I must admit, I am tempted to dance, tempted to perform the “Freshly Pressed” jig wherein I desperately try to please everyone with a disgusting mixture of hip-hop-ballet-tap-ballroom-salsa.
It doesn’t help that I am currently experiencing withdrawals from the surge of traffic. You came, you read, you made my day. Never have my emotions been more in tune with a bar chart.
But, I will spare you the attempts at song and dance, partially because my body translates dance moves into convulsions, but mostly due to this blog’s creation as an outlet for my random musings and thoughts. That’s how I want it to stay, if only for the preservation of my sanity.
I’m a people pleaser by nature so it’s akin to telling Cookie Monster to lay off cookies. But I won’t go tanning and don a speedo, claiming I have always done so, just because I have an audience. And as much as I want to cling to you, as the chipmunk from “Sword in the Stone”, I will refrain. You’re welcome on both accounts.
Instead I will continue to write what I need to write, not what I think you want me to write.
Some blog entries will suck and cut down my stalkers by the score.
I weep for my lost pretties.
But please bare with me as I travel into blogging, and know that the difference between a good post and a bad post is… the next post.
Where am I going?
No effing idea.
But… I think ……….. it’s this way….?