Look, guys, I am not a woman (as far as you know). I’m a man. A daddy. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy blog posts about mommies.
For instance, over at the parenting site Babble, they wrote an amazing post about how you can tell if you’re a blogger. It’s directed at mommy bloggers, but I just kept laughing myself silly at all the different things they pointed out. I felt like they were describing me!
Check it out:
Amen! But there’s nothing teeny about the thrill I feel when I click publish. It’s more like a epileptic fit of ecstasy. My entire body shakes, I start speaking in tongues and banging my head against he keyboard screaming, “Yes, yes yes!”.
To be perfectly honest, I try to avoid clicking publish on the carpet and I certainly can’t wear my good pants.
You said it, sister! I had this one girlfriend who told me that she robbed a convenience store. Sorry, Constance Smith of Louisville, Kentucky, that’s going on my blog!
Guilty! I’ve tweeted on wine, beer, absinthe, horse tranquilizers, horse hair, oregano, Tony Danza, Ho-Hos, Chocodiles, Whip-its, Sniff-its, Reddits, Muppets and surf’n’turf.
I’m not sure what this one means, but sometimes, before writing on the blog, I roll around in the dirt like a little piggy.
I record conversations as a matter of habit, in case anyone double crosses me. I trust no one. Especially not my so-called “mom friends”. They’re just pawns in my chess game of revenge and humiliation!
Um… spacing’s not really a problem for me.
My baby’s first word was actually “hedgehog”.
What? What are you talking about? What does “SQUEE” mean? And how many more of these are there? Christ.
Nobody does that.
Didn’t you just say that the baby’s first word should be “blog”? If that’s the case, it would stand to reason that they would know what a blog is. Come on!
I feel like I’m being bullied right now.
I realize I should have paid closer attention to how long this list was going to be.
Why is this woman punching herself in the face?
Hashtag or hashbrowns?
I feel like this list has been going for a hundred years.
Never heard of it.
“Daddy” is actually my real name. Daddy “Ring-a-ding” Fitzcubbins.
Wha…? Oh, excuse me. I was just secretly daydreaming that this list was over and I could move on with my life.
I’m mourning the loss of my will to live right now.
I know that lost follower died. Don’t ask me how I know. Please, don’t ask me how! Also, there are two “you”s in there for some reason.