I hate the word blog. It’s totally like ‘blah’ and ‘clog’ mashed together. Blah is like: egh… I’m so bored. Clog is like: ew, the toilet won’t flush. Or wooden shoes invented by turn-of-the-century Dutch peasants to better outfit moms for last-minute excursions to Trader Joe’s. So when you think about it, the word “blog” is like: I flushed my mom’s wooden shoe down the toilet out of sheer boredom and now I’m standing in a swamp of upchucked poo.

Is it just me?

For a while, I toyed with the term “Fashion Log” — kind of classy right? Except, you know: If I’m already talking about poo, chances are this isn’t the classiest — let alone fashiony-est — site. Besides, it’d only be a matter of time before I broke down and started calling it my “flog,” which — in addition to being an awesome mash-up of Fashion and Log — also refers to whipping cowering medieval-dudes in brown peaked hats for, like, selling rancid horse meat, or whatever.

Oh, well. Maybe, I’ll embrace “blog” one day. Like, tomorrow. Which is like, forever from now.

xo

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