I'm feeling stressed out because real life is not leaving me much time to write my blogs. I think the American Psychiatric Association diagnosis for my condition is blogstxiety maximosis chroniculitis. I don't fantasize that legions of fans are waiting for my latest insights about pop celebrities and sports felons. Heck, I couldn't even answer a current events question on "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me," this morning about whether Britney Spears is pregnant. I probably have a bad case of Diva deviated septumrotisserie with/without hallucitosis of grandeur.

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