According to the title, I'm back on board. It's kind of hard and splintery, so I don't think I'll be staying long. Anyway, back in 2006 when this blog first started, my co-conspirator and I were still wet behind the ears young-uns eager to get our work read by the public. (As it turns out, it's really easy to do. Anyone who doesn't have a blog these days is either Mennonite or a terrorist and sometimes even terrorists have blogs, so that just leaves the Mennonites. I suppose you could be a Mennonite terrorist, someone who goes around on horseback judging people to death. But I digress.) Back then we were energetically pushing our scribblings onto anyone who would stand still long enough, although my strategy of approaching random people in the mall, looking at them askance and muttering, "Ya wanna read my blog?" met with varying degrees of failure.
As of late, my own involvement with the Blog has been less zealous. In fact, Blogger tells me that my last post was in March of 2012. And my post before that was...never mind. My stalwart partner, the FooDaddy, has posted more frequently than have I, struggling in vain to keep the dream of stupidity alive and kicking. If anyone could do it, he could.
In fact, what reminded me of the Blog was the sight of the FooDaddy's book, Dear Time-Wasters, which was sitting on my bookshelf looking sad and homely. Dear Time-Wasters is a collection of FooDaddy's posts from year one, back when the Blog was cruising through cyberspace like some kind of horrible, clumsy Death Star. I believe you can still grab a copy of said book here. The stomach-twisting graphic accompanying this post is the cover art for Dear Time-Wasters. And that is FooDaddy on the cover. Look at 'im, all young and stuff, back when he looked less like someone who might eat your children raw and more like someone who might cook them first, like the rest of us civilized types.
But enough about that odious fellow. What really prompted me to post was my disorienting experience earlier today when my curiosity got the better of me and I logged into Blogger for the first time in many celestial cycles. When I clicked "Log-in," it was like Indiana Jones opening the door to an ancient crypt: dust, bats, creepy eight-legged insects (sorry, I promise that's the last time I'll mention FooDaddy in this post), the whole works. Inside the Blogger crypt, however, it was all shiny and new. I didn't recognize any of the interface. Apparently, Google has snapped up Blogger, along with all other Internet-based apps, and connected it to various user profiles. For example, I was going to begin posting as The Stupid Blogger again, as I did in the beginning, but Google has my Blogger account linked to, well, me. What's with this new era of Internet accountability? Back in the old days you could be anyone you wanted. You didn't even have to register as a person. (Which explains how FooDaddy managed to obtain an account. Okay, sorry!) You could show up as Clark Gable, Winne-the-Pooh, or a Giant Flying Hunk of Pooh...whatever or whoever was fine! Well, I'm not taking this lying down! Actually, I am. Nap time!