Thursday, May 1, 2008

The book, Blog Shmog, has been an asset to my blogging career. It's written by a guy named Robert Bly which is weird. I bought it at the Barnes and Noble thinking it was from the semi famous poet and bestselling author of Iron John. It turnes out that this Robert Bly is a marketing writer and a controversial figure in the world of blogging. I wish I knew how to link this to his blog and try to ferret off some of his readership. I've committed 72 grisly and elaborate murders and I have yet to be detected and I still can't figure out this HTML business. Which brings me to the topic of this blog(which I hope will draw in a vociferous and vital commentary.) But before I begin the main reason that I need to blog today I'll say that Robert Bly, the marketing writer, has written a good book that all should read. Again, not Iron John or poetry, a book about blogging.

Now to the main event: Acronyms.
As you can see I'm experimenting with different formats and presentations.
Acronyms: Today I was told by some vile friend of my non-autistic daughter that I'm a MILF. I had no idea what he was talking about and had to spend a bit of time online to realize what this sewer mouth was saying. Disgusting but a little flattering at the same time. And this made me think about how as a society we are drowning in Acronyms. I say in my profile that I am 33 but I'm really 39. I don't say 39 because it will make people think that I'm lying and am really over 40. I look good for my age, I think. I mean I can't know for sure because people are liars and trusting them only leads to dissapointment. But, that is for another post. When I was younger I can think of very few acronyms one had to be aware of to seem culturally "with it." SWAK, and S.O.B come to mind as do RSVP. Nowadays, there's the LOL, which indicates intense laughter-laughter so strong that it cannot be contained in a noiseless manner. Then there is ROTLF, which I find suspect. how does one roll on the floor laughing and at the same time type this fact into a computer. Well, I suppose, it can be done with a laptop but someone typed this to me who I knew for a fact didn't have a laptop and that person became one of many who has earned my distrust. My non autistic daughter is very common- and as a common predicatable teen she "loves to text." I don't care because my husband can more than cover any costs and it keeps her out of my hair and out of my closets and other assorted hiding places. She is too lazy to try to pick locks so you know how that goes.
She is prone to communications with the other common simple children that say, " you are awesome, see you ASAP." neauseating. If I had munchausen disease I would kill her for sympathy and attention but I don't and killing her would ruin my soccer mom cover. Anyhoo, how I hate the word, "Awesome." How one get pick the sheep from the sheperd with that one word. And it is not just the smutty grubby frightened teens that say it. It is grown ADULTS. Those who came of age with superlatives like great or good or terrific or even neat or groovy. Excellent and fabulous are archaic and not even used by gays much anymore. Now, these people long past high schooll shamelessly say, "Awesome." to fit in??? With whom? And Why? I say it to but I have to fit in for legal reasons. I bet the nazis would all say awesome non stop.
Klaus: "Rolph, we killed 2,000 Jews in one hour."
Rolph: "Awesome."
Klaus: " I got some killer Zyclon B."
Rolph: "Awesome."

Which also reminds me: I despise Roberto Benigni and think him malignanti. Future blog post? I think so.

I know I know my yet to be extanct readership will find me hateful. They are right. But, at least, I do something with my bile. As my sister wrote in her yet unpublished masterpeice, "maybe, hate is my natural state." I would love to promote her book(which I so skillfully edited) on this blog, but that would compromise my freedom .As, you should know by now: I am a highly prolific serial killer. I present solely as a soccer mom. I love latte and organic and I say shit like, "how did I ever manage before my blackberry." and the other soccer moms smile or even giggle. The mere mention of Prada or Manohlo Blahnik passes for wit in the circles that circle in my unrevealable location. I do tell you that I live in Santa Monica, California, but I simply should't tell you any more. there is just no doubt that I will spent the rest of my natural life incarcerated if I let on too much. I hope, dear reader, you understand. I hope I haven't alienated you too much as I really want my blog to take flight ASAP. LOL. Can someone pleeeeze teach me HTML STAT.

For the next blog I promise to be more focused. I plan to discuss the I generation and my take on it. I pod, I tunes, I I I everything. Funny, no? The me generation morphed into the I generation and no one is taking note.
I plan to post my poetry very soon. I even write rap songs and short stories. Someone is calling. Gotta run. bye taters.
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