A senior Editor who was exhorting me to change jobs recently told me something strange, “More people read your blog than read you.” Of course I defended myself vainly, but there was a slight iota of truth about that. My claim to media notoriety is not through halfway-decent stories but through halfway-shitty blog which is usually badly written, almost always an un-subbed first draft but somehow quite a few people like it. So much so that at a wedding reception last night, someone commented how my post frequency has come down. I mean this is not a blog being written by a high-class escort girl, so sometimes the blog’s popularity seriously befuddles me occasionally. Times like right now, downtime between stories and meetings and before I open my Amazon Kindle review unit to come face-to-face with Jeff Bezos’ idea of the future of the media.
Maybe I need to do a big-ass story again, though it has only been a couple of months. And the urgency to do giganormous epics of government failings or corporate skullduggery isn’t as urgent as that of having regular sex. Honestly, I would rather drive a fast car right now and then drown in a barrel of 17-year old Malt. You know that the smaller A-roads are absolutely wonderful in the Scottish Highlands. I’m sorry but I’m feeling bored and this is what I would rather be doing right now than hearing my fingers not-so-gentle maul my HP keyboard.
Come to think of it I do type extremely loudly.
Sorry, but I genuinely feeling extremely bored right now, I have finished reading all the webcomics I follow and short of suddenly attempting to finish all the unread posts over on my RSS reader – which I can’t because accessing Fleshbot in office is a total ‘No-No’ and there is only so much of gadgets and electronics I can take (no, really) before I want to take a soldering iron to my head. And our kindly office IT admins have banned YouTube in office, not that the craptastic internet connention they have here could serve up too many pointless videos of people trying to be Jedi’s anyway. There is something wrong with the world when your home connection is faster than the office connection.
Anyway, I’m close to expending 400 words on this post. If I was in a daily I would consider my job done and go home, and if I had a box 360 I would play some Forza 3. But nope, the lure of big-ass story is strong!
Even though, there is a special joy in staying home on a working day.
PS: In response to a couple of 'friends' - I am not, repeat not, a high-class escort. I am pretty sure that they have a lot more fun than I do, and I am not going to be one to judge, but if someone (anyone) was to pay to have sex with me, they would need to be brain-dead, blind coot. Then again, if you have trawled the internet as long as I have you will know that you can find people with any sort of perversion online. Even so...
PPS: It isn't as if I don't 'believe' in what I write, other than the occasional load of boredom and being stuck in something patently unenjoyable, I genuinely have fun on the job most of the time. Which is why I've not been a 'bouncer'.