|I don't know why they thought I needed an intervention.|
Photo by D Sharon Pruitt
I didn't want to be one. I didn't want to "niche" myself. I failed. Big time.
After a male friend--who I can always rely on to be brutally honest-- told me "it reads like a fucking chick magazine and shits boring to a guy," I had to take a step back. Shit, I DO sound like a chick magazine. And while I didn't originally want to pigeon-hole myself, I'm pretty much pigeon-holed by who I am. We all are.
|Because shitting all over everything just wasn't enough for these asshats. Source.|
But that's okay as long as you like who you are, right? There are worse things than being defined by the things you like about yourself.
|Much worse. Source.|
I mean, we all want to be different and unique, blah, blah, blah, but if we're that different and unique, then who the hell is going to want to hear what we have to say? You know who's REALLY unique? No, you don't, BECAUSE YOU'VE NEVER HEARD OF HIM/HER/THEM.
|Unique > Famous. Right, buskers? Source.|
And if only females--or more female-minded people--really dig my blog, well that's certainly nothing to snort at.
|Don't make a SOUND, you bacon-filled bastard. Source.|
We're talking about at least half of the population consisting of potential readers. And I honestly don't think there's anything wrong with female bloggers. Hell, my FAVORITE blogger is a female blogger--a fucking spectacular and successful female blogger. I just had these naive, unrealistic notions about being a universal blogger. THE BLOGGER FOR EVERYONE, WHO FITS INTO NO CATEGORY.
Yeah, I know. You're never too old to entertain delusions of grandeur. Hell, I'm writing this post before my blog is a month old, so I guess you're never too young either.
I'm hoping some of you are reading this and thinking, "I don't give a a flying fuck if you're 'girly' or whatever the hell else pigeon-label-bullshit you're going on about; I just like to read your blog. You help kill a few minute in my boring-ass Mondays and Thursdays." And if you are, God-fucking-bless you. Keep reading and remember to share me with your friends. And your enemies. And strangers on the street (but who obviously have internet access).
|I paused my Mighty Midget Morphin' Power Rangers porn for this? Source.|
If you're reading this and thinking, "I do this because I want to support you even though you're about as funny as the stench of a road kill skunk with its innards coming out its ass," I thank you. I appreciate you. And I promise that when I build up a stronger reader base, I will post an announcement saying you are absolved of your obligation.
|I will "drop it like it's hot" when I'm famous ("it" being you). Source.|
If this is the first post of mine you're reading, let me tell you what you can expect from here on out. You can expect stuff from a female who is also the following: an English major with a sharpish sense of humor, a mom, a quasi-nerd, and an opinionated little shit with a bit of a mouth on her (I'm not a fucking sailor or anything, but I do like the various rhetorical emphases profanity can offer). If you think you'd rather munch on the previously mentioned innards than read anything even remotely like that, then you probably won't want to put me on your RSS feed or Google Reader.
This isn't a "FUCK YOU, I'm gonna be ME" post. This is essentially me figuring out who the hell I am and giving you fair warning.
Hi, my name is Amanda, and I'm a female blogger. And there ain't no way I can "anonymous" my way out of it, so why don't we just go get wasted while you make bets on how many posts I'm going to get through before busting out the word "__________." (If I type the word now, there's nothing to bet on.)
|What did you say your bet was? You're a little muffled. Source.|