One of the benefits of occasionally vanishing from the WordPress blogroll is that I am often able to return stealthy and totally unnoticed. Probably because nobody knew where the hell I went in the first place—not that any of you would miss anything, mind you.
However, recently upon my latest return, I was gobsmacked to find that during my most recent absence, my blog “In My Cluttered Attic” was named “Most Popular Blog In The World.”
By none other than “In My Cluttered Attic”!
Not bad wouldn’t you say for a blog whose last post was way back on July 31st?
Now having one’s blog revered and accepted in over 532 lands is really quite gratifying—if only it were true.
However, I do have a blog that is revered in more than 193 or so countries—which sounds even less awesome—AND TOO… IS A TOTAL LIE.
That’s why I’m going stick to my initial claim of being revered and accepted in 532 lands, instead of 531.
But that’s only because Kim Jong Un of North Korea can’t see eye-to-eye with me—on account of his being too short.
His puny blog is the pits anyway. Just ask anyone who’s read it? If you can find anyone who’s read it.
Neverheless, I think it’s truly amazing the number of folks—more than 7 billion strong now—not counting my Uncle Ethel (not his real name… it’s really Mildred)—who wake up every day and race to their computers to bring up “In My Cluttered Attic” just so they can catch what’s going on up in my head.
And some days, they even catch me in my RIGHT mind!
Now naturally, this kind of (deceitful) fame might go straight to some people’s heads, but not me.
No, in my case this kind of artificial immortality is customarily met at the entrance to my mind with an untidy mess—which masquerads as unfiltered clutter between the ears.
Such is the medley of chaos that fills my cranium on a regular basis, that it prevents additional narcissism (like the above-mentioned bogus honor) from ever having a chance to enter my head.
That’s why I wrote this post. Who better to sing my bodacious blog’s praises?
So, not being one to blow my own trumpet—seeing as I can’t play one single note on a trumpet… but just let me go near a kazoo AND YOU MIGHT LOSE YOUR HEARING—I decided to spend the last three months searching the globe for people who could sing the praises of my blog for me.
Is it my fault no one in the world can carry a tune?
And because of an irrational fear of flying (without the use of an airplane), and ticket prices being what they are—plus my not being under contract by Marvel to portray any kind of flying superhero—I was unable to make the afore mentioned trip around the world.
That, and my wife ordered me not to set foot out of the house—with any of our credit cards.
So, armed with nothing but a wallet full of small bits of worthless paper, except for my official “Junior Birdman’s Astronaut Card” (sent to me from Battle Creek, Michigan, back when I was five) I felt permanently grounded.
Then something miraculous happened.
A flood of endorsements started arriving on my doorstep—and the mailman swore they better be emails from now on, or else this post about the worlds most popular blog “In My Cluttered Attic” might have gone kaput.
Why just look at some of the glowing testimonials that I’ve (ahem) received!
“Never have I read a greater pile of twaddle than what I regularly find posted in ‘In My Cluttered Attic’ and I’ve been dead for nearly Two-Hundred and Fifty years! Signed: Ben Franklin
Twaddle, that’s a good thing, right?
Then there’s this little gem.
“Children of the night, take a bite out of ‘In My Cluttered Attic’ and you’ll see the light.” Your Friend: Count Dracula
How bout that… a real live count!
Of course, ordinary folks have written to me too.
“Hi, Mr. Attic, its John Smith. Read you all the time. Anyway, I was just wondering if you found the time yet to write that request for an extension?”
“You know the one I’m talking about? In regards the discussion we had concerning the failure to pay your taxes.” Yours: John Smith, IRS
Whoops, how in the world did that get in there? Excuse me won’t you?
Seems, I have to go write a little “Dear John” post.