So I've been putting off making an announcement about future Basement Song posts until I had an exact idea when they would begin appearing again. If that sounds like I'm suddenly under the thumb of some corporate mastermind dictating when I can write I don't mean to. A few months back, probably around the time I wrote mt last entry, I was approached by my friend Jeff, who was the operator of Jefito, one of the best music web sites on the Internet. A number of things transpired and he had to begin rebuilding his site from the ground floor again. However, he decided that instead of focusing primarily on music, he would expand and cover all facets of popular culture. In addition, he also decides to branch out and act more like an editor in chief and lasso a group of his favorite bloggers and put them under one roof. Thus, "Popdose" was born.
Yes, you guessed it, he asked me to begin writing Basement Songs editions for Popdose on a weekly basis. I quickly accepted, not realizing the kind of pressure I would be putting myself under. Even now as I write this entry, my stomach is churning thinking that I have to turn in something to the other editors pretty soon for when the website goes live on January 1. Uh, yeah that's right, I haven't written shit yet.
Nice, Malchus. I would claim that I've been super busy, or that I write best under the gun, but the truth is that I'm nervous as all hell knowing that more than 10 or 20 people are going to be reading what I think and feel. On top of that, I'm supposed to write about television and occasionally about movies. What was I thinking?
Fortunately, this WGA strike continues and my TiVo is nearly empty. There is nothing but crap on my 200 channels from Direct Tv, so I have plenty of time to pour my thoughts on to the web.
Anyway, as the day approaches, I will make sure you all know that Popdose is up and running. Don't worry, though. I won't desert thunderbolt. I know there are some of you who actually enjoy reading about my misery and shortcomings. And you just love my whining and complaining. You especially love my spelling errors and terrible grammar. I know my friend, Blake, must cringe every time he reads a new post. But, he's an English teacher and I'm merely an English butcher of the language.