Next month, my daft little humourous blog The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely will be one year old, a landmark I never expected to reach.
It's not because I don't think the Astonishing Adventures are any good (they're REALLY bloody good, trust me), it's just that prior to this, the longest I had managed to keep a blog running was approximately five minutes. I had dipped my toe into the blogging pool on three or four previous occasions, but then I'd quickly get bored or accidentally find myself whiling away the hours looking at pictures of Billie Piper in her underwear, or something.
Now I find myself fully submerged in that very same pool, practically drowning in blogs. It's like I'm trapped in the net, like a digital dolphin.
It's not the blogging itself that concerns me. I love writing, and would happily write all day long if only someone could shovel food in my mouth at regular intervals, and pump coffee through my veins.
The thing that perturbs me is how much work goes into getting your blog seen by other pairs of eyes, especially when you work in the niche field of writing a blog about a Victorian Lord who likes to have sex a lot, like I do. After hitting 'PUBLISH POST' on my latest masterpiece, I am then faced with a bewildering array of options for whoring my latest creation. A bewildering array of options which have lead me to write this little verse, which I like to call:
I can Zoom it, Fire it, Blink it and Spurl it.
I can Technorati this, and Stumble Upon that,
I can Riff on anything, I Reddit on a Mac,
I can join BlogCatalog, BlogLog or Blogging Fusion,
Bloggeries or BlogFlux - now it's a Blog Explosion!
I can send it to Simpy, Squidoo, Slashdot or Spotback,
I can put it on my MySpace, or shove it on your Facebook.
I can make it deli.cio.us, but by then I'd be de.lirio.us.
I can give it to Google - Hi5, Yahoo!
I could Twitter all day long
but I've got blogging to do.
Fin.
Well, I'd better go. This post won't promote itself, you know.
- Fanton.
PS: Don't forget to actually bookmark this. No, really.
