The Schizophrenic Blogger

If  ever I win one of those cutesy blogging awards people give out which enable recipients thereof to call themselves 'award-winning bloggers'* without ever having been within boobs-length of Seth MacFarlane, it ought for sure to be

The Schizophrenic

 Blogger Award

except for the fact they don't actually have one of those.

You see, seven days out of the week my blog posts are about as popular as the writing staff at The Onion is with the National Organization for Women.  I've got to hang bacon outside my blog if I want to entice anyone to enter, and once anyone's inside I've got to hurtle myself at their feet to get them to leave a comment, even if it's only "let the hell go of my feet!"

If I get any comments at all, I'm lucky to get: 

 I only clicked on yer link because I thought maybe there'd be pictures of cute kittens, loser!

But on the eighth day of the week, all that is blissfully forgotten. On the eighth day of the week glowing kudos-laden comments flow beneath my blog posts like riverlets of wine, albeit only the cheap kind in a carton you and I can afford.   On the eighth day of the week, I am suddenly ....  

POPULAR!

What's changed? Frankly, my humor writing is still about as funny as a descriptive passage from "Heart of Darkness" by Joseph Conrad.  No, what's changed is not the writing but the fact that I am now a card-carrying member of the Friday Fictioneers.

The Fictioneers, under the direction of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, is an internet group of some one hundred writers who every Friday (or thereinabouts) write a 100 (or thereinabouts) word flash fiction story based on a picture prompt posted earlier in the week.  And in the incestuous community of the Fictioneers, most members write weekly comments to each other supporting and mostly praising each other's posts.

And so, on a random Friday, I may receive 20-30-40 comments in the nature of:  

Great piece!  Loved the way you wrote in English and didn't spill salsa all over the computer screen! 

What writing!  Brilliant from start to finish!  

(P.S. I'll write more after I've read it.) 

You're so funny!  'To get to the other side' joke slayed me.  Also you wrote in English, wonderful idea!

But a few days pass and I return to a regular blog post, and once again,  One is the Loneliest Number and most likely the onliest number that I'll ever do.  If there's a comment at all, about as good it gets is:

Thought this was kinda funny 'cept I was so wasted when I read it, man! 

 ... and so on through the week until comes another Friday and it's Roll Out the Barrel, We'll Have a Barrel of Fun 'til Monday when once again  Ah, Look at All The Lonely People but not to worry, Perry, because in a couple of days,  Happy Days are Here Again!  That is, until Monday next when Just Me and My Shadow demonstrate once more why I am uniquely qualified to win The Schizophrenic Blogger Award,  if only they actually had one of those.

But how long can I live his dual life, this two-face of a blogger's existence?   It seems that I must choose.  Do I remain within the cushiony comfortable bubble of the Friday Fictioneers  forever or do I fess up to the unaided reality of a mostly comment-less seven days a week blogging existence?  And,  as a result, probably get myself a straight job as a meat inspector for IKEA? 

I've chosen.  

And know what, blogging world?

You like me, you really like me!

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*Not to brag, but I actually am an Award-winning blogger, having netted the Versatile Blogger Award and Stylish Blogger Award  a few years back. When I win me a third award, I'm putting it on my stationery, business cards,  and voice-mail!  

And I still won't get any comments ...

Meet The Beatles, Mr. Zuckerberg

The new Kindle's on sale, mates, it's off to Target! 

Ever wonder what would have happened if the word's greatest ever band had come face to face with today's social media? What if John, Paul, George, and Ringo suddenly sprang to life as 20-somethings in their heydey in the age of smart phones, hashtags, and "you've got male?" 

Ever pause to ponder that?

No, of course you haven't.    But never you mind, because ... 

Just role up for the Mystery Tour,  step right this way!

Text Man

(to the tune of Taxman)

One, two, three, four
One, two….

Let me tell you how it will be.
I’m texting you, you’re texting me.

Cause you’re the Text Man.
Yeah, the Text Man!

Should money spent appear too small. 
Get going, you can text them all!

Cause you’re the Text Man.
Yeah, yeah, the Text Man!

If you hit a bar, text the barkeep,
If you take a trip, text Uncle Pete,
If you’re Michael Phelps, text swimming meet,
If you take a walk, yeah, text your feet!

Text Man!

Cause you’re the Text Man.
Yeah, the Text Man!

You like texting by the score. (Ah hah, get your bill soon.)
Keep texting, you could still pay more. (Ah hah, texting’s sweet!)

Cause you’re the Text Man.
Yeeeah, the Text Man!

Now my advice for those who die.
Text Man!
Just keep on texting from the sky.
Text Man!

Cause you’re the Text Man.
Yeah, The Text Man!

And you’re working for nothing but texting!
Text Man!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blackberry Ringing

(to the tune of Blackbird) 

Blackberry ringing in the dead of night.
Take these smokin’ things, watch e-mails fly!

All your life.
You are always waiting for an e-mail to arrive.

Blackberry ringing in the dead of night.
Not hard to theorize, it’s plain to see.

All your life.
Forever you’ll be waiting for a moment to be free.

Blackberry fine! Blackberry mine!
Ringing all night through the dark black night.

Blackberry fine! Blackberry mine!
Ringing all night ‘til the broad daylight.

Blackberry ringing in the dead of night.
Take these smokin’ things and e-mails fly!

All your life.
You are only sated when an e-mail does arrive.
With this gadget you are mated in an e-mail paradise. 

You are always waiting for an e-mail to arrive.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You Won't Friend Me

(to the tune of You Won't See Me)

When I call you up,

Your line's engaged.

I have had enough,

So I hit your Facebook page!

I send you a request,

You act like I’m Pete Best.

And I just cannot rest,

If you won't friend me,

You won't friend me.

You won't friend me,

You won't friend me!

I don't know ..... why you 

Should only want to share

Some profile info with everyone,

Even your likes aren’t posted there!

I've so much to post,

Don’t make me give up the ghost!

I won’t go psycho like Glen Close.

And you won't friend me,

You won't friend me.

You won't friend me,
You won't friend me!

Time after time,

You leave my friend request unspoken.
I wouldn't mind

If I knew what I weren’t pokin'.

Though my Facebook friends are few,
They're filled with tears.

My friend request to you

Been's gathering dust for years!

Yes, I tell you, sister,

I’m getting all kinds of bitter,

And I’ll just hop on over to Twitter,

If you won't friend me,

You won't friend me!

You won't friend me,

You won't friend me!

Oooohhhh!  La, la, la!
Oooohhhh!  La, la, la!

Oooohhhh!  La, la, la!
Oooohhhh!  La, la, la!  (and fade out ...)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed this lazed-out excursion into the realm of unmitigated blog filler.

And I’d like to say thank you on behalf of the group and myself, and I hope we passed the audition ...

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