Read This

‘I always read you’ I heard it said and I found the ambiguity so hilariously apropos that it has required quite a bit of thought to suitably respond. Still now, I find my finger very near the backspace as I snicker, then frown, then laugh and shake my head in utter disbelief. Ah so you read me, this blog, these bits of scrap that I throw out for my own personal satisfaction. I am flattered that you find ‘me’ worth reading. I sometimes read myself and I wonder why anyone would care to spend those few minutes moving the eyeballs from left to right in order to hear my tripe. And I say tripe because I feel no ways to readily admit that the large portion of my writing is drivel. I am faithfully committed to it- and as there is very little I’m faithfully committed to- this in itself speaks volumes.
But I digress…you read me. Yes honey, you read my blog or rather, because I can only guess the full scope or identity of my readership, I must take you at your worm. But you want to know what I really think? You must if you always read me. lol.

I think you don’t.

That was just you trying to be cute in a could-have-been-awkward situation. But let me clarify; even if you had passed your eyeballs (behind a pair of sexy nerd glasses no doubt) from left to right you did not read me, you’ve never read me. What you’ve been reading, is a poppy-cock blog. You never wanted to read me, you never could have read me even if you had wanted and to believe anything otherwise- well that would just be even more nonsensical than the blog itself. I must applaud you for the poli-polish you seem to have acquired in the trade but spare me it, please. If you have read any of me surely you must know that I am not your average woman.