Yeah, I’m talking to those of you who have given some thought to attending the upcoming Spring BlogFest a/k/a Jersey Blogmeet on April 5th in Princeton, but who haven’t yet taken the plunge.
I suspect that you’re thinking runs something like the following, to which I will add my commentary, as a veteran of ten blogmeets in five different states:
Jeez, I won’t know anyone there.
It may take you all of three minutes to know a dozen people. Bloggers are an exceedingly friendly bunch. After ten minutes, you’ll find it hard to get a word in edgewise, because bloggers are not only friendly, they are also
Princeton? I’ve heard of the school (Yeah, it’s the one that lost the first intercollegiate football game to Rutgers), but getting there is a pain in the ass.
Car – easy. Princeton sits on Route 1. Trains: They run from various places in Jersey and from Philly and New York. Teresa is making the trek from Massachusetts and the Wiseass Jooette will be schlepping in from
the New York Shithole Brooklyn. The Triumph Brewery (the site of the festivities) is walking distance from the station.
What if it’s borrrrrring?
Bloggers? Boring? You’ll be surrounded by peeps who love to write and love woids and who are excellent
bullshitters story tellers. Boring? No farookin’ way.
What if I think all the people there are jerks?
I suppose that non-bloggers might think that people who spend too much time sitting in front of a computer reading blogs and way too much time writing stuff to shoot out into cyberspace are jerks, but what the hell do they know?
Will they think I’m a jerk?
I suppose that’s possible, if you plan to show up needing a bath and spending a good deal of time picking your nose or ass and farting loudly and often. Come to think of it, I suspect that farting loudly and often might make you the life of the party. “My goodness, did you hear that? He farts like Hemmingway.”
I have nothing to say to these people.
You have nothing to say? You’re a BLOGGER, fer Chrissake.
My sock drawer needs arranging on April 5th.
Sorry ass. Look, I’ll even let you touch my great farookin’ hair. That’s a helluva lot better than arranging socks or some shit.
So, cut the crap and click HERE to sign up already.