Bad Writing

NaBoPloMo always seems to invite some of the least inspired writing of the year. There's that sense of obligation to post something, anything.
Fortunately for you, I try to keep my bad writing sort of evenly distributed throughout the year. That way you can feel that sense of wonder and anticipation, as you click to this blog and begin to ingest whatever happens to be on the menu.
You never know what you're going to get.
NaBoPloMo is something that I rebel against because of my specific fear of commitment to writing under obligation. Which reminds me of a story, oddly enough.
When I was in college (which is more of a loose time frame in my life rather than an academic period) I took an English Comp class that was required. English has always been my favorite language; and it is, in fact, my Mother tongue.
My instructor called me into her office one day, which we all know is not a good thing. There she proceeded to inquire in a slow and condescending way as to whether or not I had ever been tested for a learning disability. It seems that my composition "skills" were so very far below her expectations that she naturally assumed that I had been the love child of Idaho hillbilly first cousins. It had something to do with my poor spelling, and aversion to commas.
I was stunned to find that the one Scholastic Confidence I possessed was misplaced. So, naturally, I grew up to be a blogger.
Blogging doesn't pay well. It doesn't pay me well, anyway. I thought I was going to get all rich through the advertising on my blog, but I didn't.
Didn't you see the ads that were on here? Stuff about "Hot Asian Singles." Seriously! That's why I took the ads off. I have a hard enough time holding the attention of my readers without the distraction of foreign lovers wooing them away.
Maybe I'll go back to college and take Blogging 101.