I've Been Hit!

I got beaned. Since it's a last request (now you see her, now you don't), of sorts, I'll fill it out and maybe, but probably not, be honest.

Why do you blog?
It started out as a way to keep myself sane while I was working at a horrible, horrible job that offered me no sense of the outside world and sucked all happiness from my soul. Now I think I do it out of habit or for self-amusement. I haven't been really trying that hard lately, have I? In fact, for the most part I see blogging changing away from personal blogs to more topical sites. Thank God. I've been getting tired of vanity blogs. Especially mine.

Oh, and also, blogging makes it so I don't have to communicate with anyone directly. Want to know what's going on? Just read the damn thing and you'll get the basics from training bras to dogs with bike horns.

How long have you been blogging?
Five years in August.

Self-portrait:

Though I need to give myself a haircut.

Why do readers read your blog?
I have no idea. Maybe because of my rapier wit? Because my kids are weird and there are usually strange and funny stories about them? It can't be because of the "style" given that it's turned into a Daddy/Cycling/Music blog. I don't really have a subject anymore.

What was the last search phrase someone used to get to your site?
"Last Night I Had a Horrible Dream", but the most common is "leeches".

Your current favorite blog:
Boing Boing. It's the best, prototypical blog on the net.

What blog did you read most recently?
Er, Boing Boing.

What feeds do you subscribe to?
A bunch of cycling feeds. Sadly, a good number of the stories that come across are about cyclists killed by cars. Been considering starting a new blog about cycling safety and advocacy.

Who will I tag with this meme?
My wife. If I actually had any friends, I'd tag them. However, apparently, if you call people "dirty bastards" enough, they'll stop responding to your messages. I suppose I should work harder to be a kind and gentle human being. Ah, well. Those dirty bastards can suck it.