Thursday, July 3, 2008

A quick n' dirty blog

Hmm, a blank text box. I know what you want from me. You have a one-track mind. You want me to blog in you. Well, maybe I'll just turn off this screen and twiddle my thumbs, or go for a long walk, or take a cold shower—because you're not getting any of my words today. No sir. You're just using me for my fingers and my brain just so I'll put cute, serif-y letters in you forming snarky and quasi-entertaining sentences. You don't care about me. And I don't want anything from you.

Okay, I'll admit it was kinda fun when we wrote about hair metal. And writing for NaNoWriMo was exhilarating. But that was long ago, and I'm ready to move on. No more of this silliness. If I'm going to blog in you, it should be a meaningful and beautiful experience. Not just some "quick and dirty" non-sequitur. I'm not some wham-bam-thank-you-text-box kinda girl.

See, now look—we've gone too far already. This is only going to hurt one of us. Just moments ago, you were a pure, clean text box and now look what you've made me do. What if someone catches us, is watching us right now? They'll see me sullying your good nature with my clumsy fingers and bumbling, rambling thoughts. This is not passionate blog-making; this is blogging hard and fast with no regard for the consequences.

And just when I think I'm done with you, when I've filled you up, little text box, you give me more. You spare me an inch and I steal a mile. You're taking all of my thoughts, you don't even care what they're about. Maybe I'll give you my B-material, huh? Save my good stuff for a more worthy text box, a text box that appreciates me for who I am.

Take this then: fingernail growth, sexy grandmas, tractors on the highway, and the joys of ironing.

Don't like it rough? Well, that's tough and that's all you're getting: worn socks, staplers, low-income housing, hairy backs.

Have some more: paper or plastic, coasters, travel packing.

Yeah, it's all random and it's all meaningless. Not like my other text boxes. You don't deserve meaning—just random, pointless blogging. And that's just how you need it, and need it bad. Now here's the part where you say my name.

Say my name, text box.

Say my name!

- Girl on the Corner (yeah, I just made this text box my bitch)

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Wow, look at you go Steph!

Anonymous said...

Wow, look at anonymous blowing your cover!