Three Smacks for Poppy

I just got reviewed by the Merciless Minx over at I talk 2 much. I got three smacks out of five, which, believe it or not, is pretty good. Sixty percent doesn't sound like much, but a lot of the idiots who ask for reviews get far less. And then, there are the other, "special" awards, like the boot to the head, the rotten fish, and the short bus that I could easily have been rewarded, considering that I regularly commit the following blogging sins:

I have a long-ass sidebar.
My archives and links aren't rolled up.
My sidebar is cluttered and off-center.

Of course, I'm pretty much incapable of doing anything about the way my blog looks. (This is sad, because once upon a time, I did UNIX shell and C programming. But I was getting paid to do it, and therefore, had the time to learn. Now I don't.)

However, there is also the matter of my content. My so-called writing, over which I have total creative control, and which, if you haven't noticed, pretty much sucks a lot of the time because:

I write about housewife shit.
My children get mentioned from time to time. Which makes me a Mommy Blogger.
So does my husband. Which I guess makes me a Wifey Blogger.
I'm not crazy. Or overly depressed. Or anxiety-ridden.
Or poor.
I don't swear very much.
I have two, count 'em, two degrees in English (it was going to be three, but my mommy-blogging hobby cut into my time so much that I didn't finish my dissertation) and it shows. I try not to sound like a pedantic English major, but my punctuation skills give the game away every fucking time.
And in case you haven't noticed--my posts tend to be really, really long.

So naturally, I'm glad the whole reviewing process is over. It's not exactly pleasant, putting my big fat Mommy blogging head on the block. But I recommend it, nevertheless. If you blog, you should definitely submit your blog for a review. It's a little anxiety-producing, and after you submit your blog, the tension builds as you read the other masochists' reviews, but when yours is done, it gives you that great, just-walking-out-of-the-gynecologist's office feeling. Without the K-Y mess.

And three smacks is pretty good. Really. It is. I'm not shitting you about this. (I am not mediocre. You got that, motherfuckers?)

Yay, me! Thanks, Ms Minx! My sidebar will be sporting my "I got smacked!" button before you know it (well, as soon as I figure out how to get it in there.)