Worst Article Ever
They say that a web columnist is his own worst critic and after careful pondering of that statement I would have to totally agree. I can't even count the numerous times I've finished typing up one of my many world-renowned articles and have had this deep, dark feeling of disgust. After numerous re-reads of my hackneyed words, I wonder if I even deserve to be showcased on the glorious front page of BoldOpinion.com. I begin to ask myself serious questions, "Why am I here?", "How long will I have the privilege of writing for this site?" and "Do I really need to write another article that references the A-Team?" These questions only compound my web columning angst and spin my psyche further into despair. After many mournful hours of introspection I succeed to pull myself out of this remorseful funk, get back to the keyboard and begin crafting another article. As I furiously type out these words I feel a dark shadow looming over me. It doesn't take me long to comprehend what's happening. With each consonant and vowel I put up on my screen I begin to realize the awful truth. I am currently writing the worst article ever.

The requirements for getting your words posted on this site are relatively simple. First, you must write in the English language. I'm sorry but that is mandatory. I apologize to all of our Dutch readers who have been sending in their submissions on a weekly basis, but unfortunately Dutch is one of the many languages I do not understand. Please write in English. It saddens me to think how many thought provoking articles on tulips or windmills that we are missing out on due to our language barrier. The second requirement is relatively simple. You must have an opinion. Articles on the playful antics of your kitten "Mittens" will just not cut it. Unless you write an article questioning Mittens involvement with the Aryan Nation, that might be suitable.

"I don't understand why Mittens supports the Nazi party?
Doesn't she realize what she's doing? I'm not sure if I can clean the litter box for someone who has such radical political views."

Those are the simple rules for this site. Write in English and have an opinion. Which brings me back to my previous point. Of the 391 words I have approximately written thus far have I confidently filled this criteria? Obviously, I have not. Although I am writing in the required language for this site, I have definitely not filled in the most important condition. Have an opinion. Do you see it? I sure don't. Not once have I mentioned any relative issues. Not a single one. Am I even going to attempt to pontificate on the eventual confrontation between the United States and Iraq? Will I be tackling the questionable eating habits of Mennonite cannibals? It sure doesn't look like it. It is quite clear that I am failing miserably in trying to achieve one of the founding prerequisites of this very site. I mean what exactly have you read thus far? My self-deprecating meandering on my ability to write an article, a half-assed joke aimed at an entire nation of clog wearing cheese makers and relatively humorous anecdote about a cat that is inexplicably involved with the Nazi party. So many, many words, but yet no opinion. I have failed you BoldOpinonites, I have failed you. Please find it in your hearts to forgive me.

This is my last paragraph. At this point my efforts to salvage this article are becoming a bit frantic. In my desperate attempts to formulate an opinion on almost anything I suddenly have this unexplained feeling that I will most assuredly save this column from certain disaster. That somehow, some way with my few remaining words I will be able to make this article worthy of the site. I just have to find an opinion. Something! Anything! Come on, it'll come to me. You've been in tighter spots than this. I mean you wrote an entire article on ketchup for crying out loud! Wait for it…wait for it…I feel something coming on…here it comes and…nothing. I'm afraid I have no opinion for you this week. Lord knows I've tried. I just don't have it in me. Maybe next week I'll be able to throw something together. Like why stamps have to taste so bad or what are the steps a regular model has to follow in order to become classified as a "supermodel?" I know I'm grasping at straws here. I'll do better next week, I promise. Until then I leave you with the despicable remnants of the worst article ever.

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