Maybe it's a Diary

Having posed the question of how I can possibly write a blog without knowing for certain what it is, what do I do now? Is this a blog because it appears on blogger? Because it sounds like a blog? Smells like a blog or what? Definition time. Later today perhaps, if I have the time, I shall look in Wikopedia, the source of all knowledge to see what they have to say about blogs. Do they know who wrote the first one? Do they know why blogs are called blogs and not clogs (too much shoe confusion).Do they know if as many people read them as write them? Do they talk about the great satisfaction it gives to clackety clak along the keyboard with very little regard for the leter formations the claking forms. Perhaps this isn't a blog. Or even a clog. It's my instinctive guess as to what I think a blog is which is somewhere between a diary and a lemon. It bypasses the publishing process by allowing the blogger to say things much more idiotic than he would ever show an editor. "I think you're not clear about the fact that you don't know what you're doing. Can we get a little more of that. Also can you think of ten questions we can give to columnists to ask you to encourage them to do a piece on your blog?"
I'm nothing if not cooperative. "Certainly."
1) Were you groped during childhood?
2) Did you harbor any unnatural feelings toward any of your teachers or their families?
3)Did fame always seem inevitable to you?
4) If we could only publish your blog in pig Latin would you be willing to put in the time necessary to translate?
5) How often to you wash your hair?
6)Have you ever used a hotplate. Describe the circumstances.
7) Since electrons are immortal do you think your blog is immortal. If not, how would one go about killing it?
8) If your computer made no noise when you pressed down the keys would you still be writing this?
9) Could you write a two thousand word essay on the function of dogs.
10) Do you think the name Henry will ever be popular again.

No time for edits now, maybe later. Control yourselves. You are grown-ups.