September 29, 7:55pm

A blog shouldn’t be a scroll’s worth of dashed off essays. It should be something different. Internet texts, especially dashed-off ones, and especially especially dashed-off ones about the self, should be short. And they should contain information.

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Why are Jazz musicians so bad and uncreative at naming their albums. Guess how many people play on Greg Osby’s CHANNEL 3? Guess how many beats per measure in Dave Brubeck’s “Take 5”? What if I titled my poems things like “23 Lines” and my books “19 Poems” and “Prose Pieces”? C’mon. If you’re better at the saxophone than writing, ask a friend who is a good writer to help you.

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‘The Lost Symbol’ has a dumb cover. Why do so many people want a book with such a dumb cover? A book with a dumb cover deserves to be judged accordingly.

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I’ve tried to blog so many times and never get very far with it—I don’t have time to write a bunch of crappy unpaid essays about my thoughts, which I’m busy thinking all the time. Maybe this will work. I do have time to write little things. It’s something to do while I smoke.

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I started smoking a pipe when I turned 16. Weird, I know, but at the time I really needed something. Of course, I kept it up and am now deeply addicted to it. But I promised myself way back then that I would quit when I turned 30, which is now a month from tomorrow. I have NO desire to quit whatsoever. I REALLY like smoking. But I’m a dad now and really don’t want to die of blackjaw or rotmouth, which may well be in my future. Ugh. And please spare me your horror stories of smoking-related illness. Believe me, those of you who’ve shared them, I think about them all the time.

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I miss jogging. I don’t miss jogging.

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Bought cheap pipe tobacco today. It’s bad. I have a lot of it.

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Two things all parents of babies must own: the Summer Baby Video Monitor and The Diaper Champ. The Champ beats the Genie any day. No special bags.

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I want a radio show. Oh wait, I forgot, nobody cares about radio. What’s radio? What I mean is I want to be in college.

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This is not a waste of my time. This is not a waste of my time. This is not a waste of my time.

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Since being laid off, I’ve been avidly focusing on my book reviewing. I love reviewing books, love having something I love doing so much—reading—be part of my job. I love getting books early and coming up with something to say about them. But I miss reading for fun. But when I do read for fun, it’s EXTRA FUN.

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Kinds of blogs: news blogs with information; company blogs with postings about what the company is doing/selling; personal blogs about what people are smelling.

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Why doesn’t MS Word recognize the word “blog” yet? What year is it? Where am I?

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Hey New York, there’s a free parking spot in front of my apartment! Come quick, before the others get here.

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This is like a bunch of facebook status updates.

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TRUE BLOOD is a terrible show. I love it. CALIFNORICATION is a great show. I love it too. How is this possible? Love knows no logic.