I put a great deal of thoughts in the art of blogging – not just in the magnificent content I write – but also in the back-end mechanics :
- Tags: Always carefully selected
for SEO purposes. As some of you even noticed, I will use both humour and humor - 313.2 million people in the US alone… All potential readers where I’m concerned. Screw my Canadian pride and fuck the “u”.
- Schedule: Same time, each day. And a different schedule for weekends. I’m a creature of habit, like most clowns.
You will only start hearing me breathing heavily under your bed just pass midnight.
- Posts: One post a day
you’re a dirty lying clown. Sometimes, the herd of unicorns ruling ruthlessly in my mind will fart so many rainbows that I will be compelled to write a second post (this one, for example) just so that my brain won’t explode.
When I really can’t shut the unicorns up, I write galore… “Galore”… [I am my own best public. I'm still laughing... Le Clown, you are so clever! Back to the post. End of soliloquy]. Ultimately, I find myself with a large amount of unpublished posts waiting to be read. And because I lack self-editing
everything I write is hilarious, I schedule all of them for your reading pleasure.
A funny thing happened this morning. Lord Evil Poppy smothered her face with peanut butter and honey, just before
getting rid of her daycare. At the time, I didn’t think it was funny. Actually, it pissed me off. [Have you ever met a French Canadian from Québec? When we are provoked, we use religious, Catholic specific, jargon to express our anger: "Câlisse ostie de tabarnak de saint ciboire"... It's graceful, ask my wife]. I get up and I head towards the bathroom for a wet towel, leaving Lord Evil Poppy alone at my desk, with the WordPress dashboard open, with tomorrow’s post on display. Now those of you who have kids will sympathize… To all other [very] lucky [and rested] readers, know this: kids are born with an uncanny power that some of us lose as adults - leave them alone with a BBQ lighter and they will torch your house down before you can say “ADOPTION“.
Lord Evil Poppy, covered in a gooey honey/peanut butter/phlegm concoction, skilfully pointed the mouse cursor on the “Publish” icon, and clicked the left button… “In your face, Clown Dad. How will you explain this to your readers when they will land on the dreaded Page Not Found -This is somewhat embarrassing, isn’t it WordPress error page?”
I would like to apologize for unpublishing tomorrow’s post. When you finally read it tomorrow, please… act surprised.
Lord Evil Poppy: 666 – Clown Dad: Fuck all.