No Truer Blog Has Ever Been Blogged

Here's a little excerpt from a very long post written long ago from a totally different blog. There's a long story about how I found Sex and the Ivy (Google it, its kinda bad but also funny because this tiny Chinese girl writes very unabashedly about how good she is about giving head), and I won't go into it. I only saw it this eve because of the Chastity Club article on Times website that I was talking to Uday Pulaski about. (That was the fanciest sentence written on this tube of the Interweb yet.) It word for word summarizes my feelings about blogs and other blogosphere-related items including "tshirts?":

The tears came at a price I don’t want to pay ever again and right now, I’m
doing so well that I don’t want to fuck it up. By “so well” I don’t even really
mean that well; I’m fine, just fine but it is a state that was formerly
unimaginable. So I’m sorry that I no longer take risks, because breaking down
scares me and I don’t want to think hard about the things that hurt. I’m sorry
to my readers, even more sorry to myself, because despite the divisive attitudes
about my blog, what everyone seems to agree with is that it does take a high
degree of vulnerability to do this well. I don’t think I’m doing this well
anymore. I can barely admit nowadays that someone’s hurt me and I am too scared
of screwing up other people’s lives to write honestly about mine.It’s easy to
judge people based on filtered information so trust me when I say that this is
not the whole story. The truth? This is part of it: I spent my Christmas night
telling Mark’s girlfriend what happened between us in July. He met me my
freshman spring and we’ve hooked up sporadically since, except she’s been around
for over a year and I didn’t have any idea she existed.

And in case you can't tell, I'm being sarcastic?