Were I a Great Blogger, I’d have something witty to say right now. Perhaps I’d verbally paint wicked caricatures of my coworkers, making certain to disguise each by adding the equivalent of a ridiculous fake moustache, French accent, or other funny hat. Or, maybe I’d tell a story about a shopping/bar-hopping adventure that ended with equal parts puke, bruised ego, and buyers remorse. Or, maybe I’d tell you in gruesome, intimate detail of a recent infirmity, whether due to virus, bacteria, burrito or alchohol poisioning. Or maybe I’d express my considerable outrage over the things my city, county, state and Federal governments do in their effort to better "represent" me.
Is it that I’m just not that sort of blogger? Or, worse, am I That Sort Of Blogger? Am I, perhaps, the sort of blogger that pops up every few weeks, raving about his newly broken computer? Maybe I’m the sort of blogger that daily posts a sentence or two about how his day went, perhaps dropping the name of another blogger he accompanied on a shopping/bar-hopping adventure? Am I just That Sort Of Blogger that periodically performs a link dump with little or no explanation?
Maybe. Or maybe I just haven’t yet discovered my rightful place in the blogger heirarchy. But if it’s not to ridicule my coworkers, if it’s not to recount my few and unremarkable adventures, if it’s not to express my considerable discontent with the government, and if it’s not to just wave from the crowd, then what is it?
ERIK
