To 'blog or not to 'blog?

Well, I think I can rightly say that I am fit to blog, what with my l33t 3|\|gl154 5k177z and stuff.

I've discovered yet another way to kill mountains of time between classes, lectures and the release of new Harry Potter novels. If you visit blogger.com (creators of the blogging engine that runs this blog), you'll see a column on the left that says "Most Recently Updated Blogs". Because the internet is filled with idiots and these and idiots want to spread their idiocy, every time you refresh this page you'll see an amazing new smorgasboard of blogs. By simply clicking upon these I came across the following monstrosities :

Junie-Anne thought at...

Monday, September 30, 2002

I've had a really horrible day. It started so badly and now that I'm at my desk about to start some other homework, I feel the weight even more heavier on my back. This really sucks. :sniffle:

June thought at 7:41 PM


Now, you do have to click the link to this site. I can't really explain how crap it looks. Or reads. You've got your typical angsty teen tryhard who, instead of doing the usual angsty teen thing of writing bad goth poetry about 'black' and 'night' and 'death' has decided to basically whinge about her life. Must be tough living with your parents, not having to support yourself. Damn. She does write about deep emotional things though, such as her frequent child-parent fights :


Man, you can't believe the amount of drama I went through this week. I hated to fucking bits. I'm becoming a nutcase. When was it? Monday? My mom and I talked it over, I cried, frustrated and angry with my mother, and my mother yelled, offended. We both decided I should give up art and become a pharmacist. My mom said she's worried about my future that when I get out of college will I make enough money to support myself? So, I agreed, fine, I'll be a pharmacist since my friend Lily said that a pharmacist's starting salary is $70,000. I told my mom to call Long Island University to request an application for me.


And of course her dreams of meeting her dream guy...


I have no belief in fate. I have no belief whatsoever. Goodbye illusions. Goodbye to my foolish dream of working for Dreamworks and meeting Steven Spielberg someday. Goodbye to all my stupidity. I've never felt so alone in my life.


I think she should investigate a new dream : one where she writes lyrics for Linkin' Park. She seems to be tuned into their wavelength.

Now for my next amazing refresh find...

Lisa's Dorm Box

Monday, September 30, 2002

Sarcastic FF X character selector

~Happiness is not a fish that you can catch~ 4:57 PM



I'm Homer, who are you? by Lexi
Go Homer!!!

~Happiness is not a fish that you can catch~ 4:42 PM



Simply by scrolling down this long, long, long, long, long pile of colorful rubbish, I am reminded of why certain members of the population should not be allowed to use the internet. These people transfer all the kitschy, rubbishy crap that clogs office cubicles, the desks of school receptionists and homes of 'sweet' old 'ladies' to the internet. You known what I'm talking about. Do remember that scene in 'Addams Family Values' where Wednesday and Pugsley are on summer camp and are locked in the 'happy hut' or whatever that abomination to good taste was called? All that crap : the kitten posters, the personality finders, the love-numerology-of-your-license-plates-matchers and stuff.

Essentially, the authoress of this blog spends hours at selectsmart.com finding out what kind of M&M she'd be, then posting the results of said findings to her blog for her other friends to find. In stark contrast to June's macabre blog of shame, this blog is shameless. It reminds me of a Snickers bar; So sweet and full, yet completely substanceless. But that's okay, the shallowness that this blog projects more than makes up for it's lack of depth.


Now it takes all kinds to make any kind of collaborative effort, so I really shouldn;t be too hard on these other blogs. They do serve a useful purpose; they make my blog look like a literary classic by comparison.