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Bawal Mag-blog

Even if your lungs are about to burst enough to change the office interior into crimson-dotted retro wallpaper, never blog at work about a boogerschnotting director, or the security guard from hell.

Therapeutic it may be, but blogging on borrowed internet time is unauthorized use of company resources and what you post will be contested as company property. You'll get dooced.

Even if you so yearn to fess online the threesome you had last night and how Ecstasy dissolved your sensibilities and your neurons. Your mother is still tech savvy, has spread your URL to relatives, and sooner or later will cut your inheritance upon reading your blog.

Even if you stumbled upon a high-profile document detailing her husband's underground connections, never curse the president lest you be harrassed by her personal lawyer or branded a threat to national security. Could get you landing in prison during the weekend and you can't post bail. Feel fortunate enough that you're not in Iran.

Even if, in your usual fits of vanity, you (and others so) want to see yourself in office uniform, in a formal suit, or a picture of your biceps, in your blog and let others gasp and fantasize about you in a police uniform with a pornsize truncheon and a furlined manacle. Let Friendster handle that incriminating evidence.

Blog about the flowers you sent to Momma, and have a macro shot of the flowers posted. Blog about what you ate last night, how the shiraz went well with the rack of lamb with rosemary. Blogging about getting paid for sauciness may get you a book deal, but who would listen to an engineer unless there's some pants going down and some boinking going on?

Be the Martha Stewart of the blogosphere, the position's still vacant.

“Bawal Mag-blog”