Or is it Too Lame? You decide. Regular readers (hi, Mom!) know I have been struggling for blog topics this week. Of course I haven’t worried about Friday, because, you know, Lame Post Friday: Random Observations and Half-Baked Philosophy. Well, I intend to write my Friday post on Thursday (today), because I will be pressed for time on Friday. So I thought, I’ll just write a marathon lame post, type it all in, divide it in half and voila! Two posts for the price of one! Is that cheating? NO!!! This is my blog! I make up the rules (usually as I go along)!
That was a longish introduction to an admittedly lame post (random observation #1?). Speaking of introductions, here’s an oxymoron (my favorite kind of moron): the MC who introduces somebody “who needs no introduction.”
The other day when I was running, a car drove by me with a dog sitting on the driver’s lap. At least, I couldn’t see the driver. The dog could have been driving the car, which is not the same thing as the inmates running the asylum. It was a cute dog.
Whenever I write a running post I always think later, “I didn’t even say anything about…” or “I forgot to mention…” Then again, my running posts tend to run longer than my actual runs, so I suppose that is all right.
It is a well-known fact that if you think too much about what you are going to write, when you finally sit down to write, you will not be able to pen a single word. But I say if you don’t think enough about what you are going to write, you may not be able to write either. Or what you do write will be self-indulgent nonsense. Um, yeah, kind of like my lame posts. Where was I going with this?
On an unrelated side note: I may not be going away this weekend and if I do go away, my house will not be left unoccupied, unobserved, unguarded, unprotected. And even if it was, I have nothing worth stealing. So if any unscrupulous people troll blog posts looking for people who are going away in order to rob their houses, don’t bother. And if you don’t believe me and do bother, clean the place up while you’re there. You know, do the dishes, scrub the toilet. Maybe clean out the refrigerator. You can just throw away anything growing fur. Don’t forget to take the trash out. (Is that as good a deterrent as, “I’m home cleaning my guns and training my vicious guard dogs with my good friend the Chief of Police”?)
An observation related to the side note: people are often on Facebook “checking in” places. In other words, advertising they’re not home. My sister’s answering machine at one point said, “We’re not home; leave a message.” I gave her a stern talking to about security. My niece’s response (and for some reason I never suspected this niece of having such a fine sense of sarcasm) was to change the message to, “We’re not home and the door’s unlocked.” I think they have one of those generic ones that come with the machine now. I don’t call my sisters very often. Shall I go into some half-baked philosophy about appreciating family? I think not.
That reminds me of my favorite intellectual joke. The waiter asks Descartes if he’s ready to order. Descartes says, “I think not,” and vanishes in a puff of logic.
And on that note, I sign off, looking forward to Friday, which is sooner than you may think.
Mohawk Valley Girl 