Thursday, December 15, 2005
A Disturbing Trend
People have started to notice when I plagiarize myself.
It used to be that I could go around freely repeating the same semi-retarded political insights (i.e. "I think immigrants are nice"), nonsensical celebrity put-downs ("Katie Couric looks like she wants to eat a baby"), and rambling personal anecdotes (the thrilling saga of the Blind Date Who Only Brought $3), and no one would know the difference. Sure, I was mainly hanging out in bus stations and assisted living facilities, but people seemed to really enjoy what I was putting out there. Or at least gurgle appreciatively.
But now that I have the blog, I can't help but feel that once I've published the story of my trip to the DMV or my list of jokes about Nicole Richie (mainly eating-related and VERY subtle), I've got to be done with it forever. Too many times now I've finished up a ten-minute monologue about the time I cut my finger in third grade, complete with multiple impressions and totally hott social commentary, only to be told, with a yawn, "Yeah, I already read that on your blog." The pressure to create new material is just immense. I may just have to start making things up. I mean, more than I already do.
People have started to notice when I plagiarize myself.
It used to be that I could go around freely repeating the same semi-retarded political insights (i.e. "I think immigrants are nice"), nonsensical celebrity put-downs ("Katie Couric looks like she wants to eat a baby"), and rambling personal anecdotes (the thrilling saga of the Blind Date Who Only Brought $3), and no one would know the difference. Sure, I was mainly hanging out in bus stations and assisted living facilities, but people seemed to really enjoy what I was putting out there. Or at least gurgle appreciatively.
But now that I have the blog, I can't help but feel that once I've published the story of my trip to the DMV or my list of jokes about Nicole Richie (mainly eating-related and VERY subtle), I've got to be done with it forever. Too many times now I've finished up a ten-minute monologue about the time I cut my finger in third grade, complete with multiple impressions and totally hott social commentary, only to be told, with a yawn, "Yeah, I already read that on your blog." The pressure to create new material is just immense. I may just have to start making things up. I mean, more than I already do.
