The Horse Sense

I have realized that my journal entries may read more like laundry lists than the words of a literary laureate. I don't suppose that anyone will take the time to tell me this. No one cares about my blog, you know.

Wait, no one cares about YOUR blog. YOUR blog.

True to myself, I shall list the blog types (not to be confused with the blood types):

There are those bloggers who are too witty for their own good. I need to ask someone to 'splain them to me. Someone who is patient to sound out the big words and draw pictures for the parts I can't understand.

Then there are those bloggers who can't choose the perfect word, so they use them all for good measure. You know the one in search of the perfect, idyllic, concise, precise, exact, special combination of words.

I would be remiss not to mention the GROSS bloggers. The bodily function folks. I don't even try to decipher them. I can't. I am too busy bleaching my eyeballs.

My favorites are the bloggers who can take a very ordinary event, put it in pigtails and call it a party. I like it when someone tears a hole in the corner of their world just big enough for me to recognize a bit of myself on the other side. I am just narcissistic enough to enjoy the PING.

I am my least favorite type of blogger though. I am a list maker. A test taker. A code breaker, and I like mine poached with flies. It is the horse sense of it all.