Whatcha Gonna Do With A Blogger

(Cue fiddle, guitars, and general twanginess.)

I can see you got your eye on this old blogger,
And I can tell you've never had one for your own,
Or you've never been around one,
Now you're thinkin' that you've found one,
Well it might be kinda fun to take him home.

You giggle every time that I say blogosphere
And I get this feelin' if I held you tight,
You'd be seein' his and hers,
Servers, snark and shirts,
But that's a feelin' you'll get over overnight.

Cause whatcha gonna do with a blogger
When that alarm clock rings at dawn,
When he's fiskin' the Beeb instead
Of gettin' out of bed
And packin' up his laptop and gettin' gone?
Whatcha gonna do when he says “Honey,
I've gotta post this, can I stay”?
Whatcha gonna do with a blogger,
When he won't get offline and go away?

You can see it takes a special kinda woman
To put up with the life a blogger leads,
Cause his PJs are kinda funny,
And his blog readin' buddies
They'll camp out on your couch and never leave.
Don't even start to think you're gonna change him,
You'd be better off gettin' broadband and joinin' in.
What he is is what you've got,
And he can't be what he's not,
And honey you can't hide him from your friends.

So whatcha gonna do with a blogger
When that alarm clock rings at dawn,
When she's fiskin' CBS instead,
Of gettin' out of bed,
And packin' up her laptop and gettin' gone?
What you gonna do when she says “Honey,
I've gotta post this, can I stay”?
Whatcha gonna do with a blogger,
When she won't get offline and let you play?

Yeah whatcha gonna do with a blogger
When she won't get offline and let you play?

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(To the tune of "Whatcha Gonna Do With A Cowboy," with apologies to Garth Brooks, Mark D. Sanders, and Chris LeDoux.)