So I just spent a bit of time perusing some other blogs. I snarked at the boring ones and the preachy ones, but I did manage to find a few that amused me. As always, after reading another person’s blog, I began to critique my own. Needless to say, I am one judgmental, heartless bitch–at least when it comes to my writing. If only I could be as amusing as the bloggess, my life would totally be way less sucky! I’d be all witty and awesome and such…instead of being marginally mediocre with a side of attempted humor. I could relate my pointless tales in a manner that would draw in crowds of twitterpated followers. As it is, I am fairly sure I have a grand total of two people who have read my blog. To be fair, it is rather…well…pointless babbling. But I do attempt to be somewhat entertaining! I am definitely more amusing than lots of other things out there. Like nature documentaries showing hyenas slaughtering baby lions while their poor, blind mother tries desperately to intervene (the baby lions’ mother that is–not the hyenas’ mother. the hyenas’ mom would be all “make sure you share with your brothers”. So, just to clarify, the mother of the lion cubs tried to intervene and the mother of the hyenas was probably some crack-whore hyena or something who totally did Not attempt to intervene). Or root canals! Root canals totally suck ass. Oh, and contracting some sort of flesh-eating bacteria–that would be a LOT less entertaining than reading my blog! Although, on a positive note, the fewer people reading my blog, the more inappropriate and snarky I can be!
I wonder how a gal would go about finding freelance editing work? Or maybe proofreading or something. Anything involving reading and/or writing would be awesome. Using my extremely expensive education, which I will never be able to pay off unless I win the lottery or write a best seller, would be awesome. Not having to work retail would be indescribably, unbelievably, amazingly fan-frickin-tastic! To never again be handed money soaked with boob sweat fished out of some big, rather unpleasantly aromatic, woman’s bra–that would be heaven!
I had no idea cats snored until I got Dart. Now I know all too well.
The one and only D’Artanyn Bruno Bailey Wellingtom Bendryl Esq. My 12 year old, 23.5 lb cat. I know, I know. I’m fairly sure he is the bastard offspring of Bigfoot and a very large alley cat. But he’s cute!