Welcome to my words.

This entire website is topsy turvy as of late. The only time it’s not is when it’s turvy topsy. And even then, I can’t tell my bloggy from my elbow. Until we get things calm here, please enjoy this Mozart concerto. What? We can’t get the orchestra to play? That’s it. I quit. Hey Frankie, call your cousin and tell him I’m available for that bricklaying job. What? Your brother got it? Oh come on! He said he’d hold it for me til Tuesday! No, I’m not calling your cousin a liar. I’m just saying he’s a dirty, rotten bag of jerk flesh who wouldn’t know a hard worker if one fell on his head. Yeah, tell him I said so. I don’t care. My website’s all broke. That’s fine. This’ll give me more time to work on it. No, don’t do me no favors, Frankie. I’ll be all right. You worry about yourself. Sheesh.




Hundreds, nay thousands of blog posts later…

That’s a wrap, people! Thank you one and all for coming. It’s been a hard fought few decades to pull this thing together. But I think the final product speaks for itself.

Now I’m not one to jaw on and on. You all know me. My motto is: “A succinct sentence is just that.” Well my friends, after the long and eventful journey we’ve traversed, I believe I owe it to you to express our achievements with as much verbosity as veracious verisimilitude allows. … Does anyone have a pocket dictionary handy?

I think I speak for everyone when I say that, from our humble beginnings, we never in our wildest dreams would have thought we’d come this far. I’d like to take just a moment, if I may, to quote our very first blog post. Yes, we were as wet behind the ears as a poodle in a puddle, but our message way back then was as poignant and true as it is today.


Chills. I have chills.

Right. So let’s get to the topic at hand: the ever-present 800-pound gorilla in the room that has gathered us all here. As we move forward into the new era, I’m sure many of you have concerns about your futures here at Bloggy Central. There has been much chatter on and off the boards. Yes, I’ve read your concerns and heard your errant whispers. Just because I wear a tie and sit in the big corner cubicle doesn’t mean I’m not hip to the general malcontent that’s been spreading ‘round here for the past five years or so.

“What’s he gonna write next?” you’ve said.

“How can he possibly continue to sustain the incredible pace and genius of his craft?” you’ve asked.

”What if the bloggy ideas I bring to the table aren’t good enough?” you’ve wondered. “I’ve got a family to feed, you know. And a pet iguana to pamper and breed.”

Well, Weird Wallace, I’ve got good news for you pal. That iguana of yours is gonna be just fine. You can keep her in the bourgeois, open-claw high-heels she’s accustomed to and continue spoiling and sparkling her with that gem-studded scale lotion because I’m here to tell you that your job is a guaranteed bonafide lock!

Because your ideas are what give this thing breadth and blood. Your contributions are the springs encircling the coils within the cogs of all the mixed metaphors and malapropisms that tick it and tock it around the clock. And here’s something else, Weird Wallace. Here’s the secret that stingy, old, stodgy puppet master of an overlord of ours doesn’t want you to know: he is downright desperate for your intellect.

But you didn’t hear that from me! If the boss man ever gets wind that we all think he’s got numerous screws loose and is but one misplaced analogy away from this whole thing collapsing in on his head; well then, should that time ever come, you won’t have to fear for your job anymore, will you? Because when it all crashes down, there’ll be no fair warning for you to make a graceful exit before the roof and the sky cave in our skulls.

But don’t you worry about a blessed thing. I’ve said that you’re all doing exemplary work here in the trenches, and by gum, I mean it! My dear friends, without you we never would have made it through the unparalleled word shortage of ‘45. Was that 2045 or 2145? Oh who can even remember (or care)? We’re here for the long haul and we’re not going anywhere! So everyone just sit right back and enjoy the night’s festivities! Drinks are on me. Literally, actually, it appears I’ve slobbered some bubbly ginger ale on my expensive suit and …

What is the meaning of this? What are you doing? Unhand me! Do you have any idea who I am? I’m the man in the corner cubicle! I have tenure! TENURE!

Ladies and gentlemen, please do not be alarmed. The blog master has been spreading untruths and hence, he has overstayed his welcome. By order of the writer, he will be reimagined and replaced. Carry on and do good work. And fear not! One constant remains for all time: your jobs and your lives are never in jeopardy. Because, simply stated, you don’t exist.

Band leader, play us a sprightly tune!

And cheers.

It's My Party And I'll Write If I Want To

It's My Party And I'll Write If I Want To