Can I take credit for it? I think so.
I have noted in blogs I read, that also read me, my own cadences coming back at me. The writers ride the edge now, are brutally frank an honest, and a lot more fun to read.
Hey, I'm a pioneer.
So many people just pussy-foot around an issue, and try to wax erudite and flowery...me, I just strip naked and cannonball into the middle of the pool. Don't like it? You've got a mouse. Click the fuck on outta here. Some folks seem to enjoy me.
I do worry about becoming trendy, though, like when yuppies go for drinks at an S&M bar to observe the freaks at play. Well, there's going to a nice safe zoo, and then there's going on an African safari, and getting out of your vehicle.
Depending on my mood, I like to slap you around some. Maybe touch your inner child in a way it doesn't like or understand. I have been told that my writing sometimes gives readers nightmares. Hey, I'm sharing and caring that way.
I've said it before, if you cry over it, I've cried over it. If you laugh, I already cracked myself up. If it pisses you off, I'm enraged over it.
Blogging is a new detour on the information highway, a new way of communicating, that can quite literally be said to be revolutionary. I'm not going to blather on about blogging being some sort of sacred trust, it's not. But again, just try to fill an auditorium with several hundreds of people daily who want to hear your every word.
No, except for Googlers and tittie-hounds, I assume you come here to see what I'm up to. Agree, or disagree, you read. People keep telling me I should write a bestseller...have you seen my statcounter? Now, how many copies of a book are sold before it sinks beneath the waves and down to Davey Jones Bargain Bin?
I rest my case.
Anyway, thanks for your patronage, and for the (sadly) few of you folk who hit my tip jars. And thanks for your own blogs, some of you, that have provided me with entertainment and food for thought over the years.