The downside of blogging

I love blogging, but I wish there was a more pleasant-sounding word for it. Blog rhymes with bog, smog, slog, sog and other unappetizing things. It also rhymes with fog, which is lovely, but the unsavory words that rhyme with blog far outnumber the beautiful.

Take bog, a swamp-like morass, a place where you might encounter an alligator or a huge poisonous snake or the Creature From the Black Lagoon. Or you can get bogged down, in paperwork or odious chores. And how about smog, the scourge of modern civilization, hanging over the land in ugly yellow-brown tones and ruining lungs. And there’s clog, as in to cause to be backed up: a clogged toilet, yuk. People slog, as in plodding or struggling, perhaps to get across a bog. Which gets us to sogged. You would probably get sogged crossing a bog. And there might be a hog in the bog. You never know. Hogs are worthy animals, don’t get me wrong, but they’re not terribly attractive. 

Oops, I almost forgot flog. I’ll leave you to decide whether to spin the punishment or pleasure connotation of that word. Some people enjoy being flogged, but it’s not my cup of tea.

We have to take the good with the bad. I enjoy blogging immensely so I’ll just put up with the way it sounds. I’ll simply keep on slogging through my blog, enjoying every minute, and reminding myself that it also rhymes with dog, one of my most beloved things in life, and with eggnog, a joy of the holidays.


“Blog” is derived from “weblog,” coined in 1997. It developed into the first digital diary allowing readers to add comments to others’ blogs.


Blogging, rhymes with snogging

I love to blog. My only problem with it is the way the word “blog” feels and sounds as it rolls off the tongue. And it rhymes with so many unsavory words that have distasteful meanings. Smog, for instance. We all know what smog is. No one likes smog.

It gets worse. Blog also rhymes with bog. Bog can mean a stretch of swampy wetland, which is a valuable natural resource providing habitat for birds and other wildlife, but it can also mean a difficult situation from which it is difficult to disentangle oneself. She blogged about the sticky office romance she was getting bogged down in. And—this I didn’t know before—it’s also slang for toilet, and for what gets deposited in a toilet, of a solid nature. Yuk.

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Blogging rhymes with snogging, which is full-on, passionate kissing. You’d be surprised at how many things snog. Even snails. But how can such an unappetizing word describe something so delightful? Kissing sounds lovely, and it is, but snogging sounds yukky. It doesn’t sound like something people would enjoy, but of course lots of people do. 

Blog rhymes with flog, meaning to beat someone with a whip or stick as punishment or torture. And it rhymes with clog, to hinder or obstruct with thick or sticky matter. She was in her office blogging, while unbeknownst to her the drain in the bathroom was silently clogging. And let’s not forget slog, to walk or progress with a slow, heavy pace. While the mad doctor worked in his isolated laboratory, his frightening swamp creature slogged across the bog.

Of course, there are lots of words that rhyme with blog and are not off-putting at all, like log, frog, dog (who doesn’t love dogs?), fog, grog, nog as in eggnog, jog…you get my drift. And words I’ve used above as examples of unpleasantness also have cheerier meanings. Take clog. It can mean a plugged drain pipe, yes, but it is also a shoe with a thick wooden sole. Clogging, in addition, is a delightful folk dance that features loud, striking rhythms created by the dancers’ footwork. But I’m not interested in those, I’m interested in sleazy words that rhyme with blog and support my theme.

The word blog comes from the original term, web log, which was combined into weblog and eventually truncated to blog. That’s how this ungainly word came about. I love doing it, as I’ve said, but hate saying it. I’m old, nearly seventy. If I were a very successful poet or journalist or novelist, I would be a distinguished poet, a distinguished journalist, a distinguished novelist. But if I had a hugely successful blog…well, distinguished blogger just doesn’t sound right. The words don’t go together. It’s just wrong. Even elderly doesn’t seem right. No, I have to face it. I would be just what I am, an old blogger. But I’m a happy old blogger.