Ten years ago I embarked on an extraordinary journey unlike any undertaken in the history of mankind: I started writing for a website. This website, to be exact. I'm not exactly sure how 10 years have come and gone, or how I managed to write an article every week for all those years. I guess writing half of them about supernatural dogs and old-timey eccentrics helped a lot.
One thing's for certain: I eagerly await the trophy Lowtax is no doubt planning to surprise me with. I am excited to melt it down into molten ore, then sell it for ridiculous profits in today's booming liquid metal marketplace.
I wish to thank the following folks for helping me blossom not just as a writer, but as the proud African-American woman I now identify myself as: Richard "Lowtax" Kyanka, Zack "Geist Editor" Parsons, Reid "Frolixo" Paskiewicz, Caylen "Abraham" Burroughs, Jon "DocEvil" Hendren, David "Applebee's" Thorpe and my great friend Tom "Moof" Davies. Tom and Dave have been especially helpful and regularly endure the brunt of my weekly panic attacks where I try to figure out what to write about.
Also thanks to everyone who took the time to read something I wrote. I'm sorry you did that, but thank you.
I recently went back and read my first update. It was abysmal. Pretty much everything I wrote in those first few years was equally dreadful, forced and unfunny. Thankfully the standards for internet humor were much lower back then. I'm pretty sure I've gotten better, and even authored a gem or two.
Yes, internet humor has improved over the past decade. When I started it was mostly all about stupid captions inserted into pictures of cats and tedious memes and catchphrases. I'm delighted we've moved past all that.
I have no idea how much more I have left in me. I suspect I will probably permanently run out of ideas at some point in the near future. When I start writing long editorials written from the perspective of racist dogs from the 1800s, please gently pull the plug... and strangle me with it.
Merry Christmas and happy birthday,
P.S. Have a Great Summer!!!
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
Ignore the hype. Find out how these games will likely go right or wrong.
The Daily Dirt serves as a column for all Something Awful frontpage writers to write about, well, whatever they feel like putting into the Daily Dirt!