Shoot, I blog in my pajamas all the time. I’m blogging in my pajamas right now. It just makes things a little easier; if anyone starts talking about home improvement, I’m all set.*
Via Twisty, I bring you the most vapid story ever written about chick bloggers. Read this and you’ll begin to understand why I could only live in New York City for six weeks before I had to go hide in my aunt’s basement and pray for death.
Anyway, for your amusement, here are all the moments that would have caused me to taser someone if I had been present for this interview.
- Even though I pretend I don’t think I’m that great, really, I am that great. I know important people.–“Every so often I’ll meet someone–like, I met Jake Weisberg, the editor in chief of Slate and he was like, ‘You do what? Huh? Um, okay…?’ I was like, ‘Don’t you know who I am?'”
- My life is so great. So much better than the pathetic losers who read me.–“I get so many e-mails from people fascinated with my life and convinced it’s fiction because to them it’s so extreme and removed from their own experience.”
- I don’t blog to be famous. No, really. Fame is so annoying. I blog as a way to warm up before writing my novel, which I’m also just writing because I love writing, not because I want to be famous. Go ahead, ask me some more questions, media person!–“Thirteen days later, thousands of people were reading it. Most bloggers would love that kind of traffic, but I wasn’t one of them. I have a new Web site with a blog, but it’s not a publicity device so much as a vanity project.” and “My blog started out as a means to tell my crazy dating stories! That, and to help me warm up in the mornings before I set out to write my novel.”
- It never occurs to me that other people will treat me how I treat them. How dare they! Don’t they know I’m special?–“Jessica: Someone sent me [hate mail] and I saw their IP address–they sent it from their work address at a law firm. So I forwarded it to the partners of his firm and said, ‘You should know that this guy is reading my blog.'” and then “Jessica: After I got fired I applied for a normal job the next day and they sent all my contact info to the Washington Post and Wonkette.” with Rachel chiming in, ” Wow, that’s really ethical.”
- I’m not like those other bloggers, I really can write a book. I have talent, people, real talent.–“I don’t think every blogger is meant to be a novelist, no matter how popular their daily writings may be. It’s a different beast. Writing is a talent.” and “There’s a misconception that a book can be churned out in a week or two. It takes consistent and sustained effort and lots of frustration.”
- And I’m different from other bloggers, because I don’t let blogging rule my life, even though I totally want to be famous for blogging, I don’t really do it.–“How often do you blog? Jessica: Whenever I feel like it, but never more than an hour per day. Heather: Five hours a week. Mimi: Usually about five or ten hours total [each week]. Melissa: About 20 or 30 minutes a day, if you count answering comments and e-mails.
- Also, I’m a pretentious jackass.–See the whole rest of the article, where they talk about their favorite restaurants, designers, and magazines. Extra points for calling a magazine a “book” so that everyone knows you’re hip to the lingo.
And then they all have their cutie-pie bios at the end.
I guess I need a cutie-pie bio. I’ll have to work on it. Here’s one fun fact. I don’t know who any of these women are and I’m tickled to death to never have to read their blogs.
*I love a good masturbation reference first thing on a Sunday morning, don’t you? There are some folks who don’t care for them; it makes them feel bad. Those folks should probably try a little harder on Saturday night. I kid. It’s not like I’m that great in bed either. Maybe I need some good training (first heard about at Pandagon). Though, if it has to involve Mickey Mouse, maybe I’ll just settle for sticking with what I have. Though I love the “I’m not kinky, but if a woman wants to imagine that I’m Mickey Mouse and she’s a prostitute, that’s fine with me.” tenor of the whole thing.