Because I called my cruise a business trip, Angie and I talked shop for a little bit when we were together. Although, I’m going to be honest, a lot less than you’d think. When I was a waitress, post-shift, the staff would pour out of the restaurant together like a bunch of lunatics that hadn’t seen the light of day in 16 years and we’d proceed to talk about “the assholes at table 24” for the next 2 hours while we drank ourselves into a pit of oblivion.
Server stories are endlessly entertaining to other servers, but blogging stories simply aren’t interesting to anyone…even other bloggers. I mean, could I really be all, “ONE TIME MY DNS THINGY CRASHED AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT EVEN MEANS” without making other people want to slit their own necks?
Plus, saying, “I have a blog” is kind of not full of the awesome because it STILL sounds like I could have a site devoted to my cat, Mr. Sprinkles, and his wacky anecdotes. Because let me tell you, Mr. Sprinkles is one wacky guy.
Angie and I did, however, talk conferences. Specifically the docket for next year.
I’m doing BlogHer this year, and I’m even speaking, which must have been some grievous error on BlogHer’s end because I am not classy and they are classy and maybe someone will spike my drink so that I won’t get up there and be all ‘YOU SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH’ in front of people.
They probably thought I was the OTHER Aunt Becky.
Anyway, I don’t normally do conferences, but I guess I should start because there are OTHER people at conferences whose legs I should like to hump with my vagina (yes YOU Pranksters) and that’s essentially what I told Angie who is not the island of a blogger that I am.
*warbles Islands in the Streams*
It was there, over Strawberry Frozen Yogurt when we came up with our most brilliant idea.
Why not say “fuck it” and all get our assess onto a boat? We could do a Blogger Meet-up on a boat!
Let me break it down.
It’s cheaper than a hotel per night if you bunk up with someone (especially in the middle rooms like where Your Aunt Becky stayed)(because I am a cheap ass) AND the airfare down to Florida isn’t exorbitant depending upon when we go. A cruise would be no more than a conference, especially if you got a roommate.
So, I’m thinking that this is the wave of the future. GET IT? WAVE? It’s me being nautical again. HILARITY.
What’s not awesome about getting on a boat with a couple of bloggers and then proceeding to:
@) drink THEN sleep
8) eat anything you want
10) smuggle in narcotics
I mean, really, nothing not awesome.
The idea is still in it’s embryonic form because I have to research REAL blog conferences with you know, real speakers and stuff, so that I don’t book something that’s conflicting with it, but I’ll be on a motherfucking boat. Angie will too. You can join us.
If you guys are dead set on having some conference shit going on, I’m sure that Angie (who is a legitimate business owner) and I (who am a bullshit blogger) can come up with some sort of agenda.
8-10: Motherfucking SLEEP
10-11: Eat breakfast, chew aspirin to work off hangover. Laugh at previous night’s antics once laughing doesn’t hurt.
11-11:20: Lazily discuss blogging. Ask if anyone else actually makes money blogging. Make the one poor sap that raises hand buy drinks.
11:20-11:30: Chug beer through makeshift beer bong.
11:30-1PM: Lay by pool trying to catch the elusive she-mullet on film. Winner gets free drinks.
1-2PM: Lunch. Lazily order “one of everything” on the menu. Laugh when server asks “really” then say, “of course.” Eat it all.
2-4PM: NAPPY TIME.
4-4:10- Discuss traffic levels on blog. Decide it really IS all about content. Get distracted by someone in a whimsical t-shirt.
4:10-5:00- Try to decide if anyone actually knows the words to the Macarana. Stop fist-fight between two irate (and drunk) bloggers who swear that it’s actually an Irish Folk Song.
5:00-7PM- SHOW TIME. Laugh at the awesome show put on by the band. Debate whether or not the show people know how bad their show is. Laugh more. Applaud loudly because NO ONE ELSE IS.
7-8:30- DINNER TIME. Marvel over how good dinner is. Marvel over how fat you are becoming. Marvel how you just don’t give a shit.
8:30-10PM- Back up to the deck to people-watch. Realize that no matter how bad you feel about yourself, really, it’s not so bad. EVER.
10-11PM BEDTIME, baby.
Really, Pranksters, this is going to be full of the awesome. You should do it. You don’t have to be a blogger, like blogs, or even read them to join us. It’ll be a floating party of awesome.
Angie and I will be on a boat. Mr. Sprinkles, my fictitious cat, will not be.
Also my column at Toy With Me, penis tattoos? WTF?