Which is fine, because who wants to read blogs written by normal people? Barbara Walters might, but I certainly don't! Anyway, I thought that today I'd create a "grab-bag" post of potential blog entries and notes I've jotted to myself only to find days, sometimes weeks later, after all meaning has seeped from the text. Usually these messages-to-myself are meant to go in my book files, helping me flesh out a character or theme. Unfortunately, when I re-read them, they often seem incoherent at best. Like what I recently found scrawled on the back of a receipt in my purse:
- Perkins whole pie incident
- Scuba sex show
- There's someone in the house sleep walking!
- Poop undies in corner
- Bucket of KFC
And check out these never-used "possible blog entry" tidbits from my (bad) idea draft folder:
- "Have you ever been out to dinner at the Applebee’s in Oshkosh on a very cold December evening and this crazy girl at the next table is loudly asking her dining partner, 'So which of your friends was the one who used to stick a carrot up his ass?' If so, I sincerely apologize."
- (Written after my last birthday): "Dad wanted to have dinner at this local restaurant called 'Green Acres' outside Dotyville. It’s an actual restaurant in someone’s ranch home…how awesome is that?!? Mom’s response was, 'But Peter, it’s her birthday. What if she wants to go somewhere else?' Dad’s reply: 'Yeah, we all want to go to Tofu Palace.'"
- "Have you ever farted in bed, and it was of such scope and substance that it actually woke your spouse up and made them cry a little? Nope? Okay, good. Neither have I. "
- "Milk and a vegetable at every meal. Pizza with baked beans and peas. And 2% milk in a scuffed-up Tupperware cup. Other things to rant on: Duct-tape diet"
- "Did I tell you I actually went Christmas caroling this year?"
- "Before I hit puberty, I talked so much I’m surprised I never sprained my mouth. Then I once dated a boy for nine whole months before saying more than two words to his parents."
- "Watching the Olympics always makes me want to work out. To better myself physically. To put down the Tostitos, get up off the couch, and start training for a marathon. It also reminds me of the time when my twelve year-old self announced to my entire extended family at a cousin’s birthday party that I would medal in freestyle swimming at the next summer Olympics. Never mind the fact that we lived more than ten miles from the nearest pool, I could hardly swim, I didn’t really like to swim, drowning topped my list of Worst Ways to Die, and I wasn’t from Australia. "
- "She felt as out of place as Christmas lights in May."
- "Poop shaped like a pretzel."
So there you have it. Bad blogging ideas that were never to see the light of day--unearthed to recoil from the light like the slugs they are.