February 8, 2013 at 11:48 am

Once upon a time ago (circa 2006, I think), Facebook, Twitter and blogs was not a general gnagnam style phenomenon. There was Myspace (hey, jaaaaaa I onthouuuu! gnagnam style ', I hear you say), but it was not just for idiosyncratic indie posers? gnagnam style But Instagram ALSO idiosyncratic indie posers?
If you are not on Facebook these days, wonder wrong with you people. I tend to respond to these social media stereotyping: 'But his Twitter avatar is an egg ... and he's like five followers. Obviously he, like dodgy '. There are people all calibers on Facebook (some irritating, some more annoying - more on that in another blog entry. Reminds me). And now all twitter. What do we offer these platforms? A space to assert gnagnam style yourself. And oh, it happened. We all know that Hipster brigade on Instagram photos post of their vegan lunches and cats (adopted at DARG). Suddenly blogging a profession in itself - yes, there IS such thing as a professional blogger - their daily tasks in real life, I know, but every ounce and appeared snippet of their life on it. My good friend and I always have a good laugh about this: Bloggers, we grinned and pumped each other in the sides. Who THINK so much of themselves?
Six months later and I'm gnagnam style now one of those thousands of mob committing a blog. No, I post about my lunches or outings with friends or beers that I cool places useful. See, the thing is, my friends and outings are SO interesting, there is no time to make it even on camera and the interwebs capture. If the trip or place is SO nice, a different, more professional gnagnam style blogger probably already about geblog. And alas, there are people who every single day for inform the twitterdom what the day dress and their cats again shat. Dear friends, if I have to post every day that I dress me but you will regret. My dress is limited to brands that have a general public pleb who pay taxes can afford. Also, I even have a cat. No, she lives with me. She lives with my parents in Jeffreys Bay. Even though I her WILD Instagram and wanted to share with the souls on twitter, I can not. She's not very photogenic and is not like pretty quiet and oopketel so I capture the moment on camera. And oh damn now, people. If I were you must bombard with everything I EAT (I eat every two hours ... I eat permanently ...) ...
I'm not a fashion doll (although I'm addicted to fashion and Vogue, it unfortunately does not mean that I have the wardrobe of Anna Wintour) or a vegetarian or someone beautiful scenery or cakes or tarts or such like mind. I post fototjies baked cakes that I did not (because I CAN not bake. Works for me more important than cake, unfortunately. Fashion Magazines are more important than cake. For me). I'm just me.
But now you have a blog? And, like, who do you think you are, your egocentric redhead who thinks she can write? And, oh, like, no one cares, like, I heard the voices. I have my mouth washed out with celebrity bloggers and their daily life. I am not a professional blogger. I do not know a fuck what I start. Every time I start writing, I feel like a toddler who dropped his teddy off the bed and feel around in the dark for I have no IDEA what I'm doing. Fact is, people laugh at me. And 2013 is the year I finally started playing with the idea that people might not laugh at me because I'm an idiot with red hair and the language gnagnam style of a sailor. PERHAPS, just maybe, they laugh with me because I'm funny. And dear people, if you go to every single voice in your head listening and lives, you will not achieve much. If not, maybe I can not write. No, maybe I'm REALLY not the little comedian who I think I am. But life is too short for votes. And social media is selective. If someone does not want to hear what I have to say, do not. Unfollow. Unfriend. It will not offend me. But I know for a fact that a blog for me a platform and self-discipline to write something more than a simple Facebook status.
February 8, 2013 at 11:48 am
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