Thursday, July 22, 2004
100!
Okay, so I realize that making a one-hundredth post is one of those accomplishments that isn’t really an accomplishment, like winning at FreeCell or banging Christina Aguilera. I could quite easily have just posted the punchlines from each day’s Marmaduke to the blog and reached 100 posts just as quickly, and with more crazy that-dog-will-do-anything style. But I do feel a certain sense of satisfaction if only because, as obscure and fitfully entertaining as this site has sometimes been, you can rest assured that it has almost killed me.
You see, dog-sitting anecdotes and Kevin Federline slams don’t write themselves, and many an afternoon has been spent with laptop or legal pad in hand, wondering "will anyone get a Small Wonder reference, or was that just me?" or "is it too soon for another story about a crazy person molesting me?" The challenge has come from the fact that, despite my daily audience of approximately 2.5 friends and relatives, I have actually come to care about what I post here, and only the finest quality sex and poop jokes will suffice for my gentle readers. I like to think that I provide the Internet’s best alternative news source, if you define "news" as including only stories about myself and the things that celebrities do.
But anyway, I’m 100 posts into the game now, and I may make a few changes to help avoid becoming bored with or frustrated by what I’m doing here. I may not post as often and I might play with the content a little to make it more interesting to myself, as opposed to you, because seriously, who do you think you are? But I will continue to be here, whether anyone likes it (or knows it) or not. Because I have a keyboard and Internet access, baby, and that somehow makes any random thought I might have worth foisting on the general public.
Okay, so I realize that making a one-hundredth post is one of those accomplishments that isn’t really an accomplishment, like winning at FreeCell or banging Christina Aguilera. I could quite easily have just posted the punchlines from each day’s Marmaduke to the blog and reached 100 posts just as quickly, and with more crazy that-dog-will-do-anything style. But I do feel a certain sense of satisfaction if only because, as obscure and fitfully entertaining as this site has sometimes been, you can rest assured that it has almost killed me.
You see, dog-sitting anecdotes and Kevin Federline slams don’t write themselves, and many an afternoon has been spent with laptop or legal pad in hand, wondering "will anyone get a Small Wonder reference, or was that just me?" or "is it too soon for another story about a crazy person molesting me?" The challenge has come from the fact that, despite my daily audience of approximately 2.5 friends and relatives, I have actually come to care about what I post here, and only the finest quality sex and poop jokes will suffice for my gentle readers. I like to think that I provide the Internet’s best alternative news source, if you define "news" as including only stories about myself and the things that celebrities do.
But anyway, I’m 100 posts into the game now, and I may make a few changes to help avoid becoming bored with or frustrated by what I’m doing here. I may not post as often and I might play with the content a little to make it more interesting to myself, as opposed to you, because seriously, who do you think you are? But I will continue to be here, whether anyone likes it (or knows it) or not. Because I have a keyboard and Internet access, baby, and that somehow makes any random thought I might have worth foisting on the general public.
