I'm a little jaded and if I'm being honest a little bored of myself, the blog and trying to get more than 20 fucking people to read the sodding thing.
I'm having a crisis of confidence about it. I think it's shit now and people are reading it out of pity or fatigue.
It Maybe just the way my head is about it at the moment, but it's a slog.
I'm bored of trying to hash tag it on twitter. I'm bored of writing it in the same way, of not putting hyper fucking links on. Of creating an audience, Of marketing. Of PR. Of 'selling' it.
Isn't writing it in itself enough. Sometimes though when you spend 60-90 Min's on it then 23 people read it you think whats the point?
But then i remember i didn't do it for readership - i did it for me. It's a commitment to read every day too isn't it?. i mean it's a commitment to actually do anything everyday. I struggle. But still. It would be ace to get it out there more.
Am i placing too much on it?
Is it any good people - I'm having a Pendleton moment. Reassure me? Praise me? Give me comments, feedback. Tips. slate it. Anything.
Help!!!!
xx
Oh PS- topics coming back tonight for today's blog;
Deli counters - Since when did Deli counters become so fashionable? Used to be meat counters in my day, suddenly we've become all middle class and got deli's coming out of everywhere. Fucking artichokes in virgin olive oil, sun dried tomatoes, gourmet scotch eggs. Fuck that give me some Gala Pie and 1/2 pound of Haslet. Deli counters. They're like mini fucking farmers markets with glass. Pah
The other one was what drives Tony Scott to jump off a bridge and commit suicide. I'm not sure but the Evening Standard said a Toyota 4 x 4 SUV.
The final one was the death of Phyliss Diller. The original female comic. The trailblazer. 50 years ago she started on radio and inspired generations of female comics to get up and have a good go. Including Victoria Wood. She is to be saluted and 95is a ripe old age. The only thing i have to say about that age, is the picture of Sly Stallone's mum at 90. Words don't describe her. It;s just plain wrong, but it does kind of explain her son's relationship to plastic surgery and how he;s now looking like he's a Madame Tussuad's model who's been left near a radiator. We don't salute you Sly Stallone Mum. It puts me right off my supper from the deli counter.
Blurrgghhhhhhh - 90!!!!!! The world has gone insane. Triple Pah
xx
Hi Nick, I read your blog off and on and I find it refreshingly realistic, keep at it! :)
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