Blogs repulse me.

Despite my pure and utter hatred for everything that is the Blog, I have decided to create one.

I hate the blog for various reasons. Primarily, it is because of the word “blog” itself. Those who know me know I hate words that have more than one “b” or a “b” and “g” mixture. And of all possible “b” and “g” mixture words, the word blog is as repulsive as it gets. I mean, I hate the words “boogie” and “gob” and “boggle,” but BLOG gets the gold medallion. It sounds like a nerd barfing into a swamp. I want to throw up when I say it. Actually, I avoid saying it at all costs. When people drop the word in conversation I shudder and my eye twitches. Could they not have created a more flattering and less nerdster word? And the entire CONCEPT of the blog repulses me. “Oh, please read my diary!” Like, how conceited can you get? You actually think that people should take time out of their precious LIVES to read about how you visited your Aunt Sally and fell in a puddle so Uncle Fredrick brought you a towel. NOBODY cares about your life! Nobody – not even your best friends – want to read about your daily misfortunes and trips to the library. Please AVOID having a life of your own so you can SIT at the computer revelling in how wonderful MY life is. With everyone reading everyone else’s blog it’s a wonder there are any blogs at all! It is worse than reality television. At least when you’re watching TV you can leave the room to get some popcorn and there is movement on the screen to stimulate your eye muscle. And even though reality television is pure and utter garbage, at least a Fox executive thought it was worth paying a camera crew to shoot it. People write blogs because they do not have their own reality TV shows and they do not have their own reality TV shows BECAUSE THEIR LIVES ARE TOO DULL! Nobody would WATCH their reality TV shows. Which means that the only people who READ the blogs are either a) your friends, who are only doing it to be nice and just skim the paragraphs begrudgingly, or b) people who REALLY have no life and have so little to live for that they actually must live vicariously through everyday random people who clearly also have no life otherwise they would not be strapped to the computer writing some fancy old blog!

So, you ask, why, with all this hatred for said blog, have you decided to create one? Well . . . ‘twas a cold autumn night and we had ventured forth to a scruff bar to celebrate my friend’s birth. Inside said bar was a book entitled, “Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul.” Above the title it said, “New York Times #1 Best Seller!” Although my teenage years have passed, I thought perhaps this kindly book would bring pleasure to my soul and the souls of those around me, as that is what the title claimed. So I opened the book to a story and, in my best story-telling voice, read to an enraptured crowd of my poor, poor friends. The story was about some girl who went to a party and then threw an egg at someone’s house because her boyfriend cheated on her and then her mom made her apologize but then her mom wasn’t mad and then they laughed. When the story ended my soul died. There was no inspiration. The story was not enlightening or uplifting or encouraging or funny or sad or even well-written. It was pure and utter crap and I felt the urge to smash it, though you can’t smash a book so that plan was foiled. Clearly the only reason this book was a #1 Best Seller was because all the grandmas who still believe in chicken soup as a valid remedy ruined Christmas for their grandchildren by plastering the book in tape and thrusting it under the tree. This blog is my rebellion against Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul. In this blog I will not discuss my day-to-day frolics. I will only discuss things I hate that you should hate too. I will attempt to not only provide no inspiration whatsoever, but to prove that the world is a terrible, terrible place and we are all doomed.

And, ironically enough, I had never read the book until that day because that particular BOOK disgusted me. It was all the rage when it hit the bookshelves in 1997, but I was anti-the book because I hate the word “soup.” In fact, if you disclude all words that contain two “b”s or a “b”/“g” combo, “soup” is my least favourite word. I think it stems from grade 2 when my teacher read us this book called “Soup” about some boy whose name was Sam and his mother was Jewish or something and her accent made his name sound like ‘soup’ when she yelled it. I think it was probably banned from the library. Anyway, that teacher was psycho and I hated her. Also when I worked at Swiss Chalet there was this girl I hated and every time we were low on soup she would screech, “THERE’S NO SOOOUUUUUUPP” in this nasally ditz hick voice. And I also had this really bad soup at leadership camp once that had chicken gristle in it. And the thought of cold leftover soup in the fridge with the skin squeaked on, only to be splashed into the toilet and flushed away makes me ill. Plus I think the sound of the “ou” combined with the unimpressive “s”/“p” combo is just generally displeasing. ANYWAY - the IRONY is that my HATRED for the word soup has led me to partake in an activity that contains a word I hate MORE. I feel so powerless.

So – do NOT enjoy this blog. I hope it makes you a more bitter and disillusioned person.