From the Publisher

There are over 13 million people in the world currently blogging, but what about the blogs written by the iconic men and women who (unfortunately) died before the Internet was even invented? In this witty and original take on the most important technological development since spam, THE LOST BLOGS offers hundreds of blogs from the most famous minds in history, detailing their hysterically personal (and impersonal) revelations, such as: John Lennon's thoughts after meeting a young woman named Yoko Ono (and her strange interest in the Beatles' publishing rights). Tips of the trade from Jesus Christ's carpentry blog, including how to build a combination water and wine rack. Shakespeare's treatment for a new play about two princes who misplace their horse and carriage and spend the entire play trying to locate it. How a stray hot dog nearly derailed Ghandi's hunger strike. Jim Morrison's original lyrics to Light My Fire (what does smell like a burning tire?). And the missing two cents from everyone else who matters, proving there's no such thing as "too much information."

Author Biography: PAUL DAVIDSON lives in Sherman Oaks, California.

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The Lost Blogs

WARNER BOOKS

Chapter One

Subject: A Pretty Astounding Day

My previous entries concerning the burning bush and the locusts that descended upon Egypt can be read here and here. The reason behind mentioning such writings now is only so that you may fully grasp the majesty that is the Lord in the next story I wish to share with all of you.

Please bear with me, children, as I am sending this entry from my holy portable communication device-so punctuation and proper grammar may fail me. May the Lord forgive any of my shortcomings.

The Free the Slaves of Egypt Webring, which continues to function as I communicate with you today, has previously mentioned the plight of the Jewish people. You have read about the ten plagues and yesterday's mass exodus out of Egypt. Today I moblog to you from the other side of the Red Sea.

Yes, my children-you heard correctly. The other side of the Red Sea.

I stood before God's waters with hundreds of thousands of our people by my side. The Egyptians, as previously mentioned in yesterday's entry, were closing in on us. There was no place to go. We were trapped.

Yet my faithin the Lord transformed the situation from hopeless to hope-filled.

Without warning, God caused the waters to part for the people of Israel. I took a few pictures with my holy portable communication device, which includes a holy eye that can collect images which can be viewed here. The quality is not the best, but if you just feel one-half of the wonder that I felt-you will understand the feeling that swept the crowd. There's a close-up shot of me here waving at the Egyptians as they drowned in the rapidly filling sea. (You may not be able to fully see this in the pictures, that's why I must mention that once we were all safely across, the waters began to fill back in. It was a glorious moment.)

Now free of our bonds and of the Egyptians, we will make our way to Israel. I may not be posting as often over the next few weeks, as I must conserve my holy communication device's holy life of battery power for the important moments.

If you're looking for something to read while I'm gone, please check out Pharaoh's Blog, which will, I'm quite sure, contain some fairly amusing observations about yesterday's incident involving me and the chosen people of Israel.

From: http://baberuth.com/blog/ Subject: Baseball Ain't About Singing Songs

If it wasn't for baseball, I'd be in either the penitentiary or the cemetery. If it wasn't for Red Sox owner/prick Harry Frazee and his lack of backbone when it comes to his dame-I probably wouldn't be packing my bag for New York right now ...

Here's a picture of my ass. I hope you know this is for you, Frazee.

Thanks for all the notes, people. The sentiment is good. Although I would a taken half the money they pay me right now to continue playing at Fenway, I guess all I'm worth to Frazee is cold hard cash. The kind that can help him get his girl's musical off the ground. Well, she stinks. Can't sing a lick. Worst investment in the history of the world.

I was in a bit of a downer last night when my buddies came by and we made a night of it. About the time they were draggin' my fat ass home, we passed by this garbage dump of a place run by some lady who calls herself Madame X. We figured, what the hell, and walked on in.

She knew about this old Babe as most people in Boston do-and we got to talkin'. About how Frazee and the Sox weren't treating you know who with the respect he deserved. How Harry's stupid decision to let the Babe go was gonna affect those Sox for longer than they'd ever care to remember. Madame X throws up some powder, there's this flash of light and she tells me "it's all done."

"What's all done?" I ask her.

"You'll see," she says.

About that time, the beer was comin' back up my gullet-so my buddies dragged me off the floor and toward the street. Madame X shouts back to remember the number "2004" or "a thousand four" or "don't fall on the floor"-I'm not sure which ... Although she seemed all worked up about the number for some reason.

Who knows ... or cares. Now I got a hangover and I gotta pack my shit up.

Baseball-if it doesn't make you a star, it'll kill you eventually.

From: http://blogs.com/neilarmstrong/ Subject: One Small Step for Me!

There's a lot of technical jargon being thrown around in the Apollo 11 capsule right before we touch down on the Moon. Last week's lunar landing was historical, yes, but even more of a technical feat. The small details are what make something like that extremely successful.

Even more exciting, of course, was that moment right as we touched down on that hunka cheese. That moment, right before the hatch door opens and we step down into History. Thanks to Buzz Aldrin's antics, it went a little something like this:

Buzz: "I'm gonna head on out, Neil. See you out there?"

Me: "Uh, why don't you let me step out there first?"

Buzz: "No, no no. Don't worry yourself. You just look at the instruments, talk to Mission Control-it's probably cold out there anyway. Let this lowly lunar module pilot take the beating for you, Commander."

Collins: "Or, you could stay behind and I'll go check it out for the both of you."

Obviously, who would be the first man to step foot on the Moon was the debate of the moment. And so, I reached into the back to my rigorous training at NASA and came up with the perfect solution ... The kind of way we always used to solve disagreements at the Cape ...

Me: "Rock, paper, scissors."

Buzz: "Rock, paper, scissors?"

Collins: "Rock, paper, scissors!"

Me: "First to win three, is the first to step on the Moon. Deal?"

Buzz: "Rock, paper, scissors?"

Collins: "Rock, paper, scissors!"

Thirty-eight rounds later, you can imagine the outcome. The exact thirty-eight-round play-by-play can be read here, although is there really any need to take a gander at it? I think we all know who the first man on the Moon was.

First Man on the Moon's Rock/Paper/Scissors Tip of the Day: If you use rock every time, you'll eventually win.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from The Lost Blogs by Paul Davidson Copyright © 2006 by Paul Davidson. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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