I have a blog now, and it may be the world’s final blog. By the time I get into something, it’s almost surely on the verge of being labeled uncool and getting roasted on VH1. Take irony for example. I try to give an ironic title to this blog post, and the New York Times goes ahead and declares that irony is dead. Perfect.
It’s rough to always watch the bandwagon’s fading taillights. I’m just now getting really into Third Eye Blind. I asked Santa for ultra-skinny jeans for Christmas. I own a pager. Things like that – just this morning, I was halfway through a fan letter to Heath Ledger when I finally heard about how…dang. By the time I turn 21, liquor will probably be out of style.
So now I have my very own blog, and that’s how I know they’re going down in flames. It’s a blogging bubble…a bloggle. Everybody has at least a couple of blogs and it’s getting ridiculous. There was a dot-com bubble, a real estate bubble, a Jamie O’Brien bubble, and now we’re witnessing the peak of the blogging bubble. I don’t have much time. So until the bloggle pops, I’m going to keep riding it full speed ahead. And by golly, I’m going to wear those skinny jeans, and leave the sticker on that New Era hat brim, and order that $1,000 recycled-wood ‘Alaia (but if going straight and falling a lot isn’t still hip next month, the geniuses at Surfing Magazine will be getting one angry letter.)
You should tune in every day to read my blog, after you update all of your own. I’m majoring in math and economics, love to cook, and don’t have TV.