Today the Daily Prompt is Switcharoo, and I’m supposed to tell them which blogger I’d like to switch places with for a week, and I hate to constantly be the wise ass, but this one is easy, too.
First of all, I don’t know that many bloggers. I vowed several weeks ago to read and post about other bloggers twice a week, and then I cheerfully forgot about it. That’s because I’m selfish and lazy, and it turned out that I was too busy to always go around reading everybody else’s blogs. I have to write and work and drink beer and watch television shows and read paperbacks. Also my bartenders need me – some of them have children.
Which blogger would I switch place with? The only one I can think of right off the top of my head is robaker, the guy with all the airplane-flying stories, and that’s mainly because he’s THE ONLY ONE WHO LIKED MY PARKER POST YESTERDAY YOU BUNCH OF SQUARES. But you have to remember, if I’m robaker, then he’s me, and it gets pretty quickly weird. I’m sure we’re both fine without switching places.
The whole idea is creepy. What if I pick a female blogger? Is your husband going to know there’s a dude Freaky Friday-ed into his wife? I certainly hope he would know.
What if I switch with Arianna Huffington Herself? Which one of us would get the accent?
To me it’s like this – Imagine that you decided to communicate using only a squeaky horn and a kazoo. Or imagine that you purchased a large, pink bunny suit and then became addicted to wearing it no matter how many problems it caused. That’s pretty much blogging, right there.
If I could switch places with someone, let me tell you – it would be anyone but a blogger. I’d use it as a loophole around the Curse, because again, I am a deeply, deeply lazy man. I just – I just can’t stress that enough.
I guess a better answer would be, I’d switch places with just about any blogger, and then that person would be taking the week off blogging, while he or she blogged for me.
Do you have a blog, whoever you are reading this? Then you. I’d switch places with you, and then I’d be quitting your job and going camping for a week without your phone.
The Curse of Future Tom 