Open Letter to Cat Eating Foot Bloggers

That title doesn’t even make sense. How are we supposed to sort out what’s really going on there? What IS happening to that cat? It looks unethical. This blog sucks.

So, I guess there was a rumble in the blogosphere, or something? Some blogger on blogger conflict. I wasn’t part of the action. I’m not very relevant.

Why is that? Is it because I’m embarrassing?

It is, isn’t it? Am I the friend you can’t take anywhere? Is it because of the lingham massage thing? Or the chicken pot pie thing?

The chicken pot pie thing continues to bring visitors more consistently than any other post, presumably because people want to know how to properly eat one. The lingham massage post follows closely behind, presumably for a similar reason. Sadly, neither post provides especially helpful info on delicious artery-clogging convenience foods or pretentious hand-jobs.

So I don’t expect to be doing a sponsored post for Marie Callendar or “Booty Parlour Don’t Stop Massage Oil” anytime soon.

I will likely never monetize this blog, unless it’s to publicly and gleefully track the $.04 I would make every quarter. I am clearly doing this wrong.

I have heard the word “takedown” so many times in the last few days that it can only mean that there is some sort of gangster blogging hierarchy that I am unaware of. Like a biker gang, only more obsessed with SEO and proper grammar.

As it is, I am unaffiliated with either the Jets or the Sharks*, so I suppose that means that some person or persons will soon be shanking my bitch ass.**

Which is okay, because that may be the most interesting thing to happen to my bitch ass today.***

*old person reference

**Not true. My bitch ass is not in danger.

***What does that even mean?

This blog sucks. I should takeitdown. Ha, ha! Because “takedown!” Ha, ha!

My eight year-old daughter has a best friend that she hangs out with on Saturday afternoons. The BFF’s  father and I have a “three-hour max” rule – we don’t allow playdates at the other’s house for more than three hours, no matter how bad we need to run away, because they start to turn on each other.

They bicker like drunk squirrels. They start crushing each other’s Minecraft worlds. They openly swipe each other’s Shopkins and deny it, and before too long someone kicks someone else out of the room and someone is crying and the world is ending and they are never going to be friends ever again and then we have to go get ice cream which is actually ok with me.

ice-cream-246161_1920 

Some days reading other blogs feels like that. Like we run out of things to say so we turn on each other. I hate that. I think it cheapens what most of us are here to do. I think that when what we write sends the message that one voice matters more than another, and that we have the right to advise or drive another person to quit,  then maybe we’ve already lost.

There is enough that is nasty and bitter and hateful out there without adding to the mix. And I know I’m not the first to make that observation but I really just wanted an excuse to say “shank my bitch ass.”

This blog sucks.

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9 thoughts on “Open Letter to Cat Eating Foot Bloggers

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  1. First and foremost, this blog does not suck, But, speaking of sucking (unrelated to the aforementioned massage) and cats and feet, my then wife (long time in ex status) and I used to be awakened at odd hours of the night because her son (then 5 or 6), who tended to sleep with one foot out from under the covers, was screaming about the cat sucking his toes. Finally, I agree about the completely superfluous nastiness that seems to infect the bloggosphere and other cyber realms.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I caught the giggles. I had a cat who used to sit on my chest and wait for me to open an eye, at which point he let it be know it was time for Breakfast. Then he figured out that a tiny paw pat on the eyelid would make it open so he could demand Breakfast. At least he waited until somewhere near dawn. They are so very thoughtful. Yes, a long life with many cats in it.

        Liked by 1 person

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