First you try to pass off my content as your own (link goes to an archive), but once you got called on it, you made a snarky comment and blocked me from it before I ever got a chance to see it.
What a tiny ego you’ve got there! Not only are you so lacking in wit that you have to steal it without attribution, but you don’t have the courage to actually address me directly and instead decided to hide your clearly insignificant confidence. That’s so cute.
See, I don’t actually have time to research what you post. I have friends. I know that’s probably a foreign concept for you. I suppose my readers may want to reach out to you to thank you, though. I’ve been neglecting this space and your sniveling attempt to build yourself up inspired me to actually post something. Congratulations, Robert Judware, Thieving Troll! Have fun with that.
So as you may have seen elsewhere around the interwebs, we spent our weekend with our tribe. Our chosen family. Phlegmfest.
Saturday night sitting in OldNFO‘s living room, I was reminiscing with Christina. I remarked that here in this room sit some of my very favorite people on the planet and it all started with a little shindig she threw some years back. We’d never met, but since Jim suggested she invite us, she did. I think he may have left out the part where he hadn’t met the Evylrobot and me.
But we figured, what the hell. Let’s take a road trip. What could possibly go wrong? I went to my boss to request the time off. He granted it and conversationally asked, “So what do you have planned?”
“Oh, erm. We’re going out of state to meet people from the internet. With guns.”
He gave me the look. You know the one.
Best crazy idea ever.
Never in a million years would I have thought that party would lead all the wild places that it has. Because of that weekend, I have since found myself dressed in a vinyl catsuit standing in a room cheering on the waxing of a friend. We’ve presented a pink gorilla to none other than Lawdog, himself, and we’ve traded puns with Peter and Dot. We’ve killed and eaten some of FarmDad‘s chickens. We’ve spent our lives south of the Mason Dixon, but it took GayCynic to make grits we actually enjoy. I’ve had my intoxication levels evaluated by Matt G, and gone antiquing with the divine miss Phlegmmy.
It was a pleasure, as always, to spend the weekend with this ragtag group of mischief makers. My soul is replenished by the laughter of my friends. Those of the tribe that didn’t make it, know that you were missed, and we look forward to being in your company soon. Hopefully no one will wind up in the emergency room next time.
Yep, I skipped day 6 altogether and then totally flubbed 12. 3rd take. Sorry, I wasn’t doing it again. That one is freaking long!
Hmm, I’ve got better recording equipment now. Maybe I should revisit these.
Go visit Squeaky for The Fun Show song. You know what it takes to be a well-trained vocalist? A lot of work, dedication, and madness. Probably an extra helping or two of madness. How many of you had teachers reach out and press on your diaphragm? Or hand you a chalk board to carry around to communicate because they’ve put you on a week of vocal rest (no talking at all)? And don’t even get me started on vocal drills and warm-ups*.
Yeah, I know exactly how hard Squeaky worked to be the vocalist she is, and she did this as a gift for a friend. To have someone rip off her labor of love is unforgivable. And not only hers, but Tam’s words and Ambulance Driver’s work. Not that I’ve ever sent any traffic to the site which will not be named, but I ask that you spread the word and starve them of attention.
Other than polite reminders (already issued) and the distant possibility of lawyering up — Tam’s a writer and her stock in trade is the unique groupings of words she creates — there’s not a whole lot that can be done.
But there is one thing. Cato famously ended every speech he made in the Roman Senate with “Carthage must be destroyed,” even if all he was talking about was proclaiming Junior Vestal Day. The phrase I’d like you to remember and to post all over the Internet is “Dan Zimmerman. Intellectual property thief.Dead Hooker Magazine.” And good morning, search engines!
If you are seeing this, then this website has successfully migrated to a new host (Which is actually the old host I left 3 years ago. The grass was decidedly not greener.). Please let me know if you stumble across any weirdness. Website weirdness. Jennifer weirdness is to be expected.
All of you. The liberals, the conservatives, the anarchists, the libertarians, the Christians, the atheists, the pro-this, the anti-that, the men, the women, the undecided, the gay, the straight, the flexible. All of you. If I missed your label(s), good. Because although I have at least one friend that would fit under each of those, you people defy labels and boxes. You are more and I’m so very glad. Not one of my friends is a mirror of my own beliefs. You make me think and consider views beyond my own and make me a better person.