"Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? Which do you recommend (btw, I have to be up early for work)."Hmmm... good question, good question. Here is my answer:
It all depends on who or what you are loving and losing.
If you are in love with, say, amputating appendages, then it is not only good to have loved and lost, but also the point.
Dear Myka,My advice:
I'm starting a blog. I need to trick people into reading my blog. People seem to read your blog. As someone who has clearly tricked people into reading her blog, how would you suggest I trick people into reading mine?
Love,
Blogtarded
Dear Blogtarded,
First off, you are doing a great job already with the short sentences. People don't like to have their thoughts connected for them, so keep up the good work!
Now, as for your question, you could always do what I do and "trick" people into reading your blog by being interesting. Ill help you get started with some interesting topics:
- The very first time you got caught masturbating at school
- The very last time you saw your sister alive
- The best and worst day of your life ( I stole this one from City Slickers, but its still good)
- List the erogenous zones and their origins
This should be enough to initiate some traffic.
The next thing you should do is pick a family member and exploit their flaws for comedic value. Allow that family member to cut all ties with you and let them die first having never said goodbye. Feel guilty about it for the rest of your life.
Love,
Myka
Dearest Fox:
I'm writing you with my latest career quandary. Lately I've been feeling the urge to live like a true pauper and pursue a career in comedy, but my mom wants me to do something meaningless like going to law or med school. I'd rather go play in an EZ Bake Oven!
What's a girl to do?
Signed,
Anne Onimous
(not to be confused with Anne Frank)
Dearest AO,
You should listen to your mom and cut out the bullshit. There is already too much unfunny clogging up the comedy circuit. I can tell you how your experience will go down exactly. You'll ride the temporary thrill of slumming the pauper lifestyle, making opaque observations about morning-after sex and stealing drink tickets. Eventually you will become bored begging to perform for German tourists and taking drugs from strangers, and will hop on the first meaningless doctor or lawyer who can tolerate the annoying screech you have become, marry him, and brag to your children about how you once subversively mocked American Idol while open mic-ing it in a basement below an Italian Restaurant.
