Blogging is Retarded

I kinda think that blogging is a bit stupid. Who actually reads this stuff? How many millions of blogs are out there on the internet, the people who make them religiously putting in their entries, looking for links, searching for pictures, and nobody reads them. What happens to dead peoples’ blogs? If I die tomorrow, where does my blog go? Does it just kinda sit here digitally rotting until it’s flushed out of some kind of system? That happened to my brothers Facebook account. I would see his face everyday and it kind of freaked me out knowing that he had died but people were still sending him messages and crap. Nobody knew his password and it was really weird seeing comments on his wall like “Lookin’ good Curtis!” and he was already buried. Creepy. Eventually one day his Facebook link stopped working and it was like he had double died.

I’ve done the random blog search thing when I’ve been bored, which is quiet often, especially since it’s summer and school is out, and people blog about the most retarded shit. I don’t care about their babies, or recipes, or quilting tips, and I got bored with the celebrity blogger thing a long time ago. I don’t care about Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Britney, and I think Perez Hilton is a cockmunch. I don’t think they’re important enough to look at. They already have fame and money, I’m not going to be another sheep to add to their pile of money. It’s like actors getting paid tons of money, living the good life, then getting awards on top of it… they basically get it all to play pretend and then they get more people telling them how fabulous they are. No wonder so many of them are screwed up. Maybe like a dead person’s blog, they’ll just go away if I stop clicking on them.

I don’t care about a lot of the stuff that’s on the internet, but that’s what everyone says and then they go and look at porn and then delete their caches. I’m not a geek AT ALL but I know how to delete a cache. A girl can’t be too careful never knowing who’s gonna get hold of her laptop living in this house, and dad (Fucktard of the Universe) won’t let me put a lock on my door as long as I’m living under his roof blah blah blah whatevs.

I don’t know what I can say that’s going to be particularly interesting. I’m not a cutter… gross… I’m not anorexic… super gross and bad for my teeth… I’m not a slut, or a celebrity, or an alcoholic, a drug addict or a teenage prostitute so I don’t really have much interesting to say. I’m not going to do that “Dear Diary” crap either. I’m probably going to get bored of this in about a week and then I can rot with the rest of the blog corpses in a digital graveyard. I can play YouTube videos of Michael Jackon’s Thriller while I do it. Sick. Maybe my brother can be one of the zombies.

Bored.