Bloggy McBlog Blog

It’s another long hard day of being the KING OF THE BLOGGERS. You don’t understand the difficulties, you may think you do, but you do not. You think it’s easy being the King, you think if you were the king you would just sit around and be fed RIPE OLIVES by RIPE CONCUBINES whose bodies press pleadingly against their I-Dream-Of-Jeanie style pajamas. You might think that BUT YOU WOULD NOT BE RIGHT IN YOUR THINKING. YOUR SUPPOSITION WOULD BE ERRONEOUS because of its falseness.

It’s hard hard work. The constant pressure. The world demands so much from me. No one else is asked to do the things I am asked to do. No one else has to work as hard as I do on this BLOG.

I visited Little Timmy in the hospital again. He was lying wrapped in bandages, IVs in all his appendages, his eyes taped open to keep him from blinking which COULD KILL HIM.

“Oh, Mr. Bloggy,” He said. “Mr. Bloggy, could you do a blog post for me? The doctor says I may be dying.”

“The doctor should know Timmy, you shouldn’t doubt him. He worked very hard to get where he is, supported at every step of the way by the generous and selfless work of America’s great health insurance companies WHICH ARE THE ONLY THING STANDING BETWEEN US AND STALIN’S TANKS!”

“But could you do the blog post for me?”

“Timmy, it just doesn’t work like that. I can just ‘do’ a blog post. I have to write it, it has to be written, it has to be made up out of words. I can’t just do that for you. I have to do it for the whole world. Because the whole world needs me, the whole world needs my blogging. Not just one sick little boy, but so many sick little boys. And girls, so many girls.”

“I understand Mr. Bloggy.”

“I’m glad you understand, because Timmy there’s nothing you or I can do about it. We just have to keep being who we are. You have to be a pathetic sick little boy, at least for a little while longer, when you may stop being a little boy rather abruptly. And I have to keep being Bloggy McBlogBlog, the KING OF THE BLOGGERS.”

New York, NY — This is the price we pay for freedom: The Constant DEATH of Celebrities like Michael Jackson and Farah Fawcett and Ed Macmahon. If this was North Korea they’d all still be alive and maybe we’d be happier for it.

It’s not every day that I write about something as ordinary and mundane as shoes. Usually I’m all about the big picture. The important things. The Work! That’s what I’m about, usually. But today I’m abut shoes.

Time was a man could have a cup of coffee at Starbucks without having to worry about people talking about him and giggling behind his back. Used to be you could have a cup of coffee and JUST BE LEFT ALONE in order to DRINK YOUR COFFEE IN PEACE! There didn’t used to be neo-nazi sex-girls in black and red spandex repeating quotes from Nitche over and over again in appalingly well pronounced Hoche Douche in the back of every coffee shop. A cup of coffee also used to only be $3.50.

I don’t know about you, but I prefer to add my own sugar and milk. They never get the proportions quite right if they do it for you. And if a cup of coffee isn’t just right that’s an opportunity for a perfect cup of coffee that you’ve missed and is gone forever! You can’t get it back. It’s over. You’re one cup of coffee closer to DEATH and you had a cup of coffee that wasn’t just how you like it. Maybe it had too much sugar in it. Maybe it’s not so weird to want two and a HALF sugars in your coffee. Maybe that’s not so strange. Maybe you shouldn’t make fun of people who ask for that if you run a coffee shop. Maybe you should just make the coffee the way they ask!

And the people in the coffee shop. So many laptops. Some people have three or four. Standing waiting for a table with a laptop in each hand and one tucked under one arm and another held between their knees. So that when a table does become available they drop the one between their knees rushing to get it before some yoga-toned young mother with a stroller and a baby in the stroller gets to it, her breasts screaming “Look at us! Look at us! We’re producing nutrients!” And she sits there, her own laptop perched on the baby’s stomach while she changes it’s diaper and gives it a bottle full of chai, smiling up at the poor man, who has just somehow aquired six more laptops from somewhere. And he smiles back, because what else can you do? You can’t scream at her, you can’t scream “CAN’T YOU TELL I WAS HERE FIRST! I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR A TABLE AND YOU TOOK THIS ONE THAT I WAS LEGITIMATELY ENTITLED TO! IT’S UNFAIR! UNFAIR! I SHOUT TO THE GODS! UNFAIR!” Not in front of the baby. It would cry.

Even I bring my laptop to the coffee shop. But I have to. I have to keep working. I have to keep up with the Work. It’s getting hard. It’s weighing me down, but that’s what is expected of you when you are king of the bloggers.

God, you can’t imagine the incredible suffering I go through on a daily basis. You can’t. There’s no way you could. Imagine a pine marten down your pants. I dare you. That’s the kind of suffering that might bring you up to a level where you could imagine what it’s like to be me. I’m telling you this.

You may say, “Mr. McBlog, how can it be that one of your greatness suffers so much?”

“Please, call me Bloggy,” I say. I don’t really mean it, because though I am humble, I know showing me respect is something you do for yourself and for society as a whole.

“No, I couldn’t,” You say. You sense that it would be wrong to be so familiar. You are right.

“Alright then.” I say. We stand there. We are awkward. I begin to get hungry. I am thinking of lunch AND BOTH OF US HAVE ALREADY FORGOTTEN YOUR QUESTION!!!!!

And then what should I have for lunch? If I ask you, you might take it as an invitation. I’m not sure I want to have lunch with you. Not really. ESPECIALLY NOT IF I HAVE TO PAY!! THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS PAY FOR LUNCH! But I can’t stand there all day waiting for you to leave. I need my lunch.

And when you finally do leave and I call to order lunch the guy on the phone can’t get my order right. I make every effort. I read from the menu listings in Chinese, “Little squiggly thing, like a yam with cross hatching, then what might be a goat or something,” I say. He says they only have pizza. I say I want a pizza with little pizzas all over it AND HE SAYS HE READ ABOUT THAT IN THE ONION!

THE ONION!!! THE ONION STOLE THAT IDEA FROM ME!!! I AM KING OF THE BLOGGERS! I INVENTED THAT! And he won’t make it either. He says it’s not possible. I say that if I was there I’d show him what was possible or not. He suggests some things which, though possible, I would not enjoy at all and I end up going to Subway for an foot long sandwich which turns out to be NOT EXACTLY 12 INCHES LONG and also to taste like crap.

Sometimes I wish for the icy fingers of death.

New York, NY — I clicked on some things today and did I ever get a shock! The internets are full of crap!! CRAP!!! I had no idea. I’ve been struggling so hard, trying to make the internets better as I should since I am the KING OF THE BLOGGERS, but apparently dozens and dozens of other people have been struggling to FILL THE INTERNETS WITH CRAP! I can only imagine the time and effort that has gone into creating all this crap, and the expense of posting it all on the internets. WHY DO THEY DO THIS! Can’t they just leave old cars on their lawns? Why must they inflict their crap on the poor internets?
For instance, there is a web site with videos on it. There must be hundreds of videos. A video of prisoners dancing in A PRISON! A video of Ninjas dancing in A LINE! A video of prisoners IN A PRISON dancing IN A LINE!!!! And there are other videos. Many many videos. Someone must have hired these ninjas. It’s a colossal waste. And yet I can not write even a small check to pay for things at the grocery store because sometimes there is no money in my bank account WHEN THEY TRY TO CASH THE CHECK! How do I know when they will try to cash the check. Must I make sure there is always money in my account? Should I just keep money there just in case maybe today they will try to cash the check? What about tomorrow or the day after that? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THAT, I ASK YOU?
And yet, if I come home from the store with no groceries I am blamed for that too. I can NOT win! And yet I am KING OF THE BLOGGERS! But there are no dancing ninjas on my site, so some people will ask, how can you be the king if on your site there are no dancing ninjas. On this other site there are dancing ninjas, but on your site, none or almost none. And how about fat lesbians? Can I see dancing fat lesbians dancing in a line in prison on your site? NO YOU CAN NOT!!! Those are bad things that should not be on the internets. No one wants to see that. NO ONE WHO I WANT COMING TO MY SITE! Please do not come here if that is the sort of thing that you want to see.
What will happen when the internets are full of crap? When there is nothing but crap on the internets? We will go to web sites full of crap. We will get crap in our e-mail. We will read crap and look at crap all day long. It will be a LIVING NIGHTMARE that we CAN NEVER HOPE TO AWAKEN FROM!!!! What will we do then?
Will we turn to Bloggy McBlog Blog and say, “Oh, now that the internets are full of crap can you please help us, even though when you were suffering and working so hard for us and for the good of the internets we didn’t do anything nice for you, even though we probably could have?” Is that what we will do?
I won’t be unforgiving. I will do my best. I will try to help. But by then the years of work will have worn me down. My natural good looks will have been replaced by haggardness. I will have unsightly blemishes. I will be unable to control my bladder. More unable. But people will come to my home. Just to be near me. They’ll lean close as I speak in a husky whisper about what can still be done to save the internets. They’ll sit at my feet as I blog, able to type only one or two sentences an hour, and that only if someone helps me press the keys all the way down. They’ll say how terribly terribly sorry they are that they didn’t bring me lunch or a dozen donuts or something when I was hungry back in the past, which IS NOW because I am talking about the FUTURE!!! But then there will be nothing that can be done about what they didn’t do now, because it will be TOO LATE!!!!
Oh, the crap, the crap!!! What will we do?

New York, NY — No, I will not be your president.

New York, NY — One of the candidates for president recently asked that people not protest and disrupt the upcoming political meetings. I have to agree with him or her. I know it may be upsetting to you that I will not run for president, or even vice president, but it is the case. PLEASE DO NOT DISRUPT EVERYTHING IN THE ENTIRE COUNTRY WITH YOUR PROTESTS!!! THAT IS NOT THE WAY TO MAKE ME LIKE YOU!!!
Everyone wants their betters to think well of them. When I was younger and had betters I wanted them to like me too. Sometimes they did. Sometimes they didn’t. When they didn’t I know it was because of stuff they were going through at home, like the passing of a parent or loved one or a messy divorce. I remember one teacher who I liked a lot until I heard her mentioning to another teacher in the hall that someone with the same name as me should probably be institutionalized. Later I found out that her cat had died several years earlier, so that explained a lot.
Here are some things you can do to make people like you, your betters or your worsers:
1) Upgrade them from coach to business class.
2) Don’t CANCEL CHECKS you have written to them JUST BECAUSE THE FIRST BOX WAS EMPTY!!! It might just be a mistake and another BOX WILL PROBABLY ARRIVE SOON!!!
3) Everyone likes cocoanuts.
4) Have sex with them, ONLY IF they find you attractive. If they find you repulsive, don’t have sex with them. It will have the same effect.
5) Take them to the movies, but let them pick the movie. You can pick the snacks. Though everyone likes popcorn. And cocoanuts (see #3).
6) Watch a lot of TV. The commercials will give you lots of ideas of nice things you can do for people. Things you can send them. Cards you can buy with nice things already written in them so you don’t really have to do anything.
7) If you are very fat, please do not go to the mall. The aisles are very narrow. People can’t get past you. It would be a nice thing for those people if you staid home. You shouldn’t be eating the food at the mall anyway. Never insist that someone should have to go get a “real” job JUST TO MAKE MONEY TO HELP TAKE CARE OF THEIR FAMILY!!! Some people have better things to do and it is nicer for those people, if they have a great work to work on, not to be reminded that you might be a little “disappointed” about how things are going, or how many borders you have to take in, or home many times you have to give blood or ANY OF THOSE THINGS WHICH YOU SHOULD DO OUT OF THE GOODNESS OF YOUR HEART!!!
9) Most people like to be reminded that things could always be worse.

Hurley, NY — Many people in the supposed “mainstream” supposed “media” supposedly misconstrued my last post where I refused to refuse to be vice president as a statement that I did want to be vice president. IT IS NOT TRUE! I merely felt it was below me to refuse such a menial job. That does not mean I would do that job. If someone came up to you and said, “We need someone to clean out the drains in the morgue twice a year,” you wouldn’t even dignify that with a response. It is BENEATH YOU, probably. I don’t know. Maybe one of you has that job. I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. Someone has to do it. I’m sorry it’s you. Maybe you’ll be able to get a better job. You should look at the toe tags of the dead bodies. For almost every one of them there’s a job that’s recently been vacated. Or at least there’s a bed in a nursing home or something. You have to KEEP UP WITH THE TIMES. We don’t have time to slow down these days. To spend our time responding to job offers, or showing up for job interviews or filling out job applications correctly or even listening to people screaming at us that we need to get a job and start earning money to help pay for food and housing when clearly since we have those things someone must be paying for them and I have work to do.
My greatest fear is that the media has created such a frenzy around my non-existant acceptance of the vice presidency that someone has already begun printing bumper stickers. Millions of them. Somewhere a recent immigrant has spent his last few precious dollars on printers ink and adhesive backed vinyl and printed my name on the bottom of thousands of bumper stickers, waiting only to see whose name will go on the top. And to the right there will be a little American flag waving in a most unrealistic fashion. Or a picture of a donkey and an elephant in top hats eat dinner together. Some such political symbolism. One country’s symbol is the two-headed eagle. Sure it looks nice, but this creature never existed!!! Is that what their country stands for? Non-existence? I’d hate to live there.
Oh, it’s hard, these politicians are so earnest. But no, I will not be president.

Hurley, NY — Ladies and gentlemen of politics, please do not continue to send me fruit baskets. I do not want to be president. I will not run. I appreciate the sincerity of your CONSTANT PLEADINGS, but I already have a life’s mission, and I can not be side tracked in to being the leader of the free world. This blog must go on, no matter what. If I don’t have the time to work part time at gas station how could I have time to BE PRESIDENT!!!
Of course I am flattered by your courtings. Only the very cream of of society, the smartest and most able, are considered for the presidency. It’s the most important job in WASHINGTON, D.C. But the BLOG WOULD SUFFER.
Just now I received an e-mail from a political guy or something whose name I will not use in this column for fear that the bots from Google — the company that has already tried to destroy me not once, but many times AND FAILED — the bots would miscategorize my post and people would start to find my site with the WRONG search terms, bad search terms, like when Google made everyone who wanted to see movies of FAT LESBIANS come to my site. It is not a site for that. It is a site for this blog. My blog, the blog of me, the King of the Bloggers. And I don’t blog about fat lesbians. Some people might, but I don’t. What would I say about them? I don’t know anything about that. I am not a lesbian fat expert. PLEASE DO NOT FIND MY SITE WITH THESE SEARCH TERMS.
The e-mail says that they need me, that America needs me, and maybe I would consider being the vice presidential candidate. I will not even consider this. I am refusing, but I am only refusing to be the presidential candidate! This other job is beneath me. I won’t even refuse it. On the job of president is worthy of my refusal. After all I am a king! King of the bloggers.