It may not be what you want to hear. It may not be what you want to think. It may not gel and it may not impress. It may not inspire. It may not entertain. It may make you mad and make you stomp your feet in discontent. But it is mine. And really, isn’t that all that matters?
If you want to read it, you know what to do.
I will not post about my failing relationship.
I will not post about my failing automobile.
I will not post about my failing in school, at work, in line at the DMV, on a recent cruise where I tried shuffleboard for the first time and got my butt kicked by a 83 year old retired woman from Florida.
I will not talk about politics.
I will not talk about politicians.
I will not talk about polls, the act of taking polls, or the results of any given kind of poll that will tell you which Lord of the Rings character, Star Wars character, cartoon character or Dr. Who character my personality says I should be.
I will not link to things that involve sunsets, vistas or weather patterns.
I will not link to things that require Real Player.
I will not link to things that everyone else is talking about and linking to on any given day, including but not limited to JibJab cartoons, workout videos with Poodles, political satire and flash-based games involving frogs, dogs, shotguns or spaceships.
I will not take pictures of my family and post them on my blog.
I will not take pictures that include no people whatsoever.
I will not take pictures with my cell phone and create a mini-blog that is supposed to be interesting because I have taken all these strange pictures (whose resolution sucks anyway) while I walk through my day-to-day activites that may include a post-office box, my shoes, a dead animal carcass in the street or a sleeping bum.
I will not post in long neverending paragraphs.
I will not post subject lines that are homages to classic films.
I will not go to your site and tell you that you are posting neverending paragraphs or criticize your grammar or hack away at your inability to spell. If that’s who you are, that’s who you are. (Even if you can’t spell to save your life.)
I will not use technology to enhance my site.
I will not create 3-D virtual tours of my office for you to see.
I will not record audio posts so you can hear my voice because really you could care less about hearing my voice and it takes you twenty times longer to hear the post with me speaking it in my ego-filled performance than it does to just read the damn thing quickly from your desk at work.
I will mention my friends.
I will mention their blogs.
But I will not list them in a neverending, mind-numbingly, head-dizzying long list of alpha-numeric characters in a 8 pt. font that I cannot read, will never try to read, and seriously can’t even read (it’s not humanly possible, my friend) even if I had perfect eyesight which I do.
I will not ask you to comment.
I will not edit your comments.
I will not remove your comments after you’ve already made them because we are running a creative portal that thrives on instinct and reaction and not planned, controlled words. I will only remove your comments if they have something to do with your own sex-related website that is being run out of a back office in Amsterdam. Or other countries, too.
I will try to make you laugh.
I will try to make you tell me when I’ve made you laugh.
If I try to make you laugh and you tell me I’ve made you laugh, I promise to not post twelve more posts identical to the one that made you laugh just because it made you laugh and I want to make you laugh some more.
I will not post before and after pictures of celebrities who have had plastic surgery.
I will not post pictures of celebrities posing with me.
I will definitely not post pictures of celebrites having plastic surgery with me standing at their side. Leave this to Extreme Makeover, The Swan and a slew of other annoyingly sickening programs.
I will post illegal music for you to download.
I will do it so infrequently that no one will be able to arrest me.
If I do get arrested I will cry like a baby, call for a lawyer and pretend that I don’t know any of you and that you’re all “users” for taking advantage of my stupidity and generosity.
I will not post collage-type pictures of my pets.
I will not post lengthy stories of said pets.
I will not put clothing on my pets, take pictures of them, and then put said pictures on my blog with lengthy entries about how adorable they were when they blah blah this and blah blah that.
I will visit your blogs.
I will comment on your blogs.
I will not visit your blogs and comment on them that you should come over to my blog and visit and leave comments while you’re doing so. Free will, people. Free will.
I will post each and every day.
Even if I am not funny, I will post each and every day.
Even if you do not comment, you do not visit and you do not laugh — I will post each and every day.
I will not write for you.
I will not write for them.
I will write for me.
And really, isn’t that the single-most important reason to be doing it in the first place?
I think so.
And if you don’t — pfffffbbbbbt!
Hell. It’s my damn Manifesto.
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