I was originally going to do a photoblog today with some silly pictures I took on Friday, but my computer has no memory card slot (hashtag 90’s ha), so I have to transfer them to here using my laptop (my laptop’s internet is incapable of uploading anything without crying hysterically like a PMS-ridden hyena). Plus my laptop is dead and all my wires are tangled up in the corner of my room so I’d have to go through some serious scout-like knot untying just to charge it. It’s too late for me to be dealing with that now. Though the voice in my head is currently shouting ‘it’s only 10:49pm, Grandma!’ But still, instead I’m going to write about my progress in the Thirty in Thirty challenge I’m doing.
Today I completed one of my Thirty in Thirty goals and started the 100 Happy Days challenge. I made a new Tumblr to do this, as my old one was filled partly with 16-year-old me writing terribly, and partly with older me complaining and whinging, so that is going to be deleted. If you fancy following the URL is mamyology.tumblr.com and I give you full permission to send me angry asks if I miss a day on the challenge or start using Tumblr as a place to be a miserable teenager again. I’ll try not to.
Warning: The rest of this blog entry discusses porn on Tumblr and therefore may not be suitable for younger readers. It is entirely your choice whether or not you continue. If you are not comfortable reading this you’re welcome to close your eyes and scroll to the bottom of the page to read the previous blog entry (which is just filled with silliness).
Speaking of Tumblr, when I was on there before I used to be one of those people who followed back everyone who followed me. I mean EVERYONE. Post tonnes of pictures of blue skies and dull scenery? I’d follow you. Post constantly about how you and your boyfriend like to cuddle and buy each other imitation human hearts to express your intense love for one and other? I’d follow you. Post pictures of horror film scenes that make me unable to leave my room without looking for something to use as a weapon? I’d still follow you.
But then came the time when I was followed by the type of blog I most feared: a porn blog. One of those blogs where every picture involves either men and women entangled like jigsaw puzzles who can’t afford clothes or men and women who just can’t afford clothes. This left me in an awkward position: could I defy my unstated, but utterly important ‘follow-for-follow’ policy (which makes me feel like some sort of karmic-balance has been achieved and I’m one of those people who is friendlier than candy and rainbows), or would I be left handcuffed to my morals, following this blog regardless of the content.
Don’t get me wrong – I don’t have something against porn. I don’t grab for the nearest stake and crucifix every time I see a slight bit of nipple. I’m not one of those girls who acts with anger and dramatic wailing when she discovers that the folder on her boyfriend’s computer named ‘Anal Housewives’ does not actually contain a list of housekeepers available to do basic cleaning activities. I understand that porn has it’s place in society. But that “place” isn’t on my Tumblr dashboard between the cuddly bunnies and brilliant poetry. That is just the worst threesome imaginable.
There are reasons for this other than me not wanting to see serious political discussions shoved next to a man furiously moving his hand up and down. I’m talking about discussions written on Tumblr, not discussions taking place in the Houses of Parliament, just to be clear. I am in no way painting a picture of politicians and 13-year-old school boys sharing rooms for meetings. That is just too weird. Another reason for me not wanting to have porn spread all over my dashboard like some penis-covered marmalade is due to the risk and utter terror that could possibly be involved. Serious risks, people!
Picture this: you are sat in your room whilst listening to music and scrolling through Tumblr. You are relaxed, and are reading through exciting posts when BAM! Your mother sweeps her head around the door to tell you tea is ready, and is faced with a penis angrier than Apple’s catapulting birds, directly underneath the poem you are reading.
And that’s is why I did not follow back the porn blog that followed me. I didn’t want my mum fainting, and, most importantly, neglecting to inform me of my tea being ready. No one wants to go to bed hungry AND stare at uninvited genitalia. That’s doubly awful.
In conclusion, if you own a blog based entirely around lower regions then I won’t be following you. My deepest apologies; I hope you still think I’m metaphorically made of candy and rainbows.