Monday, July 17, 2006

blogocombat photo story 1

I slid across my office floor, without moving. I just stood there and began to glide effortlessly toward my computer.
I fiercely determined to NOT visit the blogosphere today. I would work on Lulu product downloads for my blog, and other ecommerce applications.
Somebody called me on Skype and we started arguing about podcasts vs. video blogging.
When the Skype conversation ended, I looked up to the sky and drew upon the lofty energies to help me resist the lure of the blogosphere.
After about 10 minutes, I was bored, so I do what I always do when I'm bored. I visited the blogosphere.
But first, I checked my Gmail inbox to see if there were any comments to moderate at my blogs. I published a few new comments, and deleted three irrelevant, spambot comments that were lengthy lists of links.
I visit a blog and right off the bat, see something I don't like.
I study the blog carefully. I post some comments. He doesn't understand or like what I say, so we go at it.
It gets pretty intense. He really thinks blogs have to have eye candy. He's starting to piss me off.
As the blogocombat rages, I'm forced to wear my blogocombat head gear. It's a Mental HazMat hat for hazardous online material workers. This special head gear protects me from online mental trauma.
My special blogocombat glasses enable me to see through my opponent's deceptions and errors.
I look to the sky and wonder why, why me, why am I destined to be--King of Blogocombat? I get pensive, contemplative, and uptight. His flames are easy to extinguish, but I'm feeling uncertain of my own point. I am unable to switch from theory to marching orders, but I'll try not to let it show. I better stick to the abstract concepts and avoid any discussion of implementation.
Can you see how my blogocombat opponent chewed my ear like a stick of licorice? I'm taking quite a beating, and I'm having trouble thinking of a clever reply to his last comment.I suddenly think of something to say that will destroy the enemy's entire premise. I type it fast and hit Submit. He's stunned. There is no reply possible. End of debate. That was easy.
Ah, everything's back to normal now. I won. Now I can move on to other things. I think I'll even smile and act happy. There. That's enough of that. Guess I'll look out my window now. Won't you join me?


Vaspers the Grate "blogocombat against telemarketers"

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