Fear Loathing and Rejection
A few weeks ago Becky of Becky Says Things asked her readers for blogging inspiration.
Since I’m constantly inspiring others to do things: sob uncontrollably, flee into the wilderness, punch a mime in the face, file restraining orders, stock up on pepper spray, change their names and disappear into the Bolivian mountains, eat green crayons and evaluate the futility of their lives, just to name a few; I decided to give it a go.
After an enormous amount of deep thought, at least five or six seconds worth, I came up with a topic that I thought to be pure blogging gold: bees and calligraphy.
I sat back and confidently waited for her post about bees and calligraphy and the awards and accolades that were certain to follow.
It never came. I was passed over in favor of music.
As the days passed my sorrow deepened. The colors of life that had once been bright and vibrant now seemed dull and gray. I no longer enjoyed plays, movies or books. I especially couldn’t stand plays or movies based on books. (Except for The Shining, Jack Nicholson is an absolute treasure.)
Music was dead to me. (Except for Weird Al Yankovic, he is delightful.)
Food tasted like cardboard. Cardboard tasted like tapioca. Tapioca tasted like green crayons and green crayons tasted like forest green crayons. Tofu was oddly unchanged.
Even the one thing in the world that I loved more than anything, reruns of The Jersey Shore, couldn’t cheer me up. As I watched their fake tans, greased up hair and increasing levels if stupidity, I knew it was hysterical, but I just couldn’t laugh.
I found myself sitting in a darkened room, chugging Mad Dog 20/20 straight from the bottle, and writing really bad poetry about giraffes and other even-toed ungulates.
As I sat stewing in a combination of fear and loathing and other emotions that remind you of Hunter S. Thompson books, I had an epiphany. (Ooh, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is another movie based on a book, Johnny Depp is an absolute treasure and he’s delightful.)
The epiphany? I could write a post about bees and calligraphy.
I know what you’re thinking: there are so many reasons my post about bees and calligraphy wouldn’t be as entertaining as a post about bees and calligraphy written by Becky.
- Her blog is more popular than mine.
- She’s a better writer.
- I don’t have a suave and debonair spokesman like Stickman.
- When people tell her that her blog is funny, their voices aren’t dripping with sarcasm.
- She probably smells better than I do.
- She at least doesn’t smell like burnt toast.
- Why do I smell like burnt toast, that’s just weird.
- She’s never eaten crayons.
- She’s never fought a mime (I’m guessing.).
- She’s never been pepper sprayed.
- She’s never been pepper sprayed by a mime.
- She doesn’t fill her blog posts with tedious lists.
Regardless, the world needs bees and calligraphy, and I will give the world what it needs.
Next post: Bees and Calligraphy.