Super Sleuthing Sickness

Okay. Okayokayokay. I am going to admit something to all of you. Shit. Maybe I won't. No. Yes. I will. I will do it. I will admit it. Because you see I have this...problem. And this problem involves a bit of internet snooping. Snooping. I should not be snooping. But the information is RIGHT THERE and I must say I cannot control myself. Perhaps I am far to curious for my own good. And it isn't as if I am stalking anyone. There are no laws being broken. Any information I may have obtained is entirely public. But I do not know why I feel compelled to review it.

Insecurity. Curiosity. Notice how similar both of these words sound. Coincidence...I think not.

And I can so easily justify this...really just watch me. Because my super sleuthing internet snooping provides me with something very very very very important. Here it comes...I hope you're paying attention. My super sleuthing internet snooping provides me with material. Material. Yes. Material. Material for writing. And it's important to have material for writing. Because...let's face it...there is most certainly not enough material-esque things going on out there in the world for me to write about. Things are pretty mundane these days.

Uh. Yeah. Exactly. That is exactly it. There is nothing at all interesting going on the world at all nothing not one thing nothing interesting.

And as it is quite important that I continue to have good writing material. Otherwise something tragic might happen. So. And what I mean is that it isn't exactly like I am stalking anyone or anything. I haven't researched where any particular person or persons live. And I haven't followed them home. I don't own high powered binoculars. I haven't broken into anyone's home and rifled through their refrigerator. No. None of that. Nothing creepy.

But you see. There are these internet web sites. And people post information about themselves on said sites. It's right there. They are asking, ne begging you to read all about them. And their lives and hopes and dreams and wants and food poisoning and vacationing and midterms and new shoes and friendships and such. Sometimes there are photographs. So what's a girl to do really. I mean really.

How was that. Seriously. I hope you're convinced. Because I think I did a decent job and almost convinced myself of my own sincerity. Which just so happens to have the same ending as insecurity and curiosity -- see above.

So. Yes. I am curious. And insecure. Then I become curious again. So I check to see if a new blog has been posted. And I read and this makes me still more curious. But don't worry. I promise not to name names if I use your life material for my next poem. Because that would be rude. I will protect the innocent. And the guilty.

And hopefully I will stop creeping even myself out in the very near future.