My employer, a corporate restaurant entity, would like me to place a disclaimer on my blog that says something like: “The views expressed here are my own and are neither condoned nor shared by my employer, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah”. There’s probably some other legal mumbo-jumbo that I’ve forgotten, as well. The problem with their disclaimer is that it contains the name of the company. I’d rather not tell people where or for whom I work.
Instead, I’ve written the following disclaimer. I think you’ll agree that it’s a bit more comprehensive and (hopefully) slightly more entertaining than those hunks of legalese that everyone and their mother has on their blogs.
I write about my life from my perspective. Most of the events that I describe have happened in some form or another — not everything has happened exactly as portrayed; some things have, though. They’re easy to spot. They’re the ones that sound like I made them up. Seriously, there are some things that even I can’t make up! Other things, on occasion, must be punched up to make them more interesting or compressed for brevity. In other words, there are times when I take poetic license. It’s my blog and I can write what I want to.
In terms of the players, particularly Fang, Fangette, and my co-workers, they, of course, exist. I’m not that creative, people! They do, however, exist in my little corner of the bloggy universe to make me look better. Here, I’m perfect and the rest of the world is flawed. It’s my blog and I can write what I want to.
Stories about my workplace are, for the most part, not exaggerated. If anything, I’ve probably toned them down — for believability. Working with the public can be, by turns, both frustrating and heartwarming. Most of the experiences that I choose to write about here would fall into the former category. Hey, it’s cheaper than therapy. Still, I’ve been known to embellish now and again — for dramatic effect. That being said, it’s my blog and I can write what I want to.
The only pieces that I’ve published on this blog that are 100% accurate are the ones I’ve written about my cat. The Great Fanganini deserves to be portrayed honestly. He’s a cat, for crying out loud! As such, he’s more or less an innocent bystander. Even when he does disgusting things like chewing up and regurgitating plastic bags, he’s easily forgiven. He is, after all, a cat. He is also the only living thing in my life that exists merely to make me feel better. He’s a great cuddler — provided he doesn’t have a mouth full of partially masticated grocery store bag. I owe him honesty, but he’s the only one to whom I owe any such thing. Again, it’s my blog and I can write what I want to.
When I’m writing about people I change their names — for their protection and, I suppose on some level, my own. (Hey! This is Jersey, folks!) For example, I’m not really married to a man named “Fang”, although that would be pretty cool if I were. More and more I find myself referring to him as “Fang”, which can at times be problematic — for both of us. If you’ve really pissed me off, don’t be surprised if I use your real name. It’s probably best to remind yourself, if you are planning on tangling with me, that I have a blog and I can write what I want to.