As we all know, there have been some major changes in the blogosphere recently, none of them good, and it's put me in a reflective mood. Not highly reflective, like a mirror or a Mylar balloon, but thanks to an oily T-zone I definitely have a bit of a shine going, enough that you could probably use my face as a makeshift heliograph if you had to.
But mainly what's got me looking back, besides the recent passing of Doghouse Riley and the retirement of TBogg, is my realization that s.z. launched World O' Crap ten years ago today. How or why we've kept this thing has going for a decade I cannot say, under advice of counsel, other than confiding that our success owes something to the elaborate subterfuge practiced by the two bumbling Yuppies in Weekend at Bernie's.
Speaking of Doghouse, in 2011 he wrote, on the occasion of our 8th anniversary:
Sorry I'm late, but I didn't know this old thing was still around.
Mary, Scott, field reporter Bill S., and the inimitable sz, unrequited love of my life, except for that weekend in Chicago, thanks for all the laughs, especially the ones when I didn't feel like laughin'. And for drawin' such a great lineup of commenters.
...and as usual, put his finger on the cardinal point. This place is still around because you guys are; otherwise it would mostly just be me jabbering away to myself about various mythical creatures, and there's plenty of that in Hollywood as it is. So whether you discovered Wo'C at the old Salon Blogs, back when the url was a weird, anonymous string of numbers that not even Sheri nor I ever bothered to memorize, or at our own, ill-fated domain, or here on Blogspot, the Velveeta of Blogging Platforms™, I'd just like to say "thank you" for your touching, if baffling, belief that this place is worth a click. Frankly, I don't see it, but you're all pretty smart people so I won't question your judgment, mostly because I've gotten really lazy after ten years spent arguing with idiots.
26 comments:
For my part, I accept the slice-o-praise...see what I did there?...from the great Riley.
But Scott...we couldn't be half as funny if it wasn't that you and Mary and sz were twice as funny as we are.
Congrats on your tenth. My shitty little blog is about a year behind yours.
Although I started my first blog in 2001, it was job-related (I was a college librarian) and not for fun. My for-fun blog started in February, 2006, and I'll never forget when World O'Crap said something nice about it (I think it was s.z.). I have been a WOC follower since the Salon days and can't live without it (well, almost can't).
Thanks to Thers, I just found you man! If this was your last post, I'd have to spend a day or two going back through your classics so I could blog about it. Don't make me do that. Just keep me entertained in the future!
I was just thinking, You know, I need to comment more on the blogs that I like. Make sure they know I appreciate them. So hey! I appreciate all your wingnutty goodness, sprinkled with bad movies and beast-blogging. I'd give you a picture of Ann Coulter, but, euww, I'm not going looking for one.
World O Crap is one of the few sane places left in the world. "If you see me laughing, I'm laughing just to keep from crying."
Also I can check to see if I've become a robot... (Sometimes I fail.)
I have begun a Pants Dance, just in your honor.
Hah!! Got here on time for once. A happy one to all of you all!
I'll never forget when World O'Crap said something nice about it
Yeah, me too, & early in an undistinguished web logging career. I owe youse, big-time. Many happy returns, & many more yrs. behind the keyboard, we hope!!
Thanks again, & imagine an electronic pinch to grow on. (How sadistic is that whole b-day spanking thing? Yeesh.)
With folks like Doghouse, D. Sidhe, Anti- et al, I rarely saw any point in casting my swill among the pearls. But I do read and enjoy every post and I really, really don't appreciate seeing "my last post", irony or no, especially after the past few weeks of bad news on this front. So please don't do that again.
Since it's your tenth, here's a doff of my old tin-foil helmet to y'all.
it would mostly just be me jabbering away to myself about various mythical creatures
You say that like it would is a bad thing.
Also, you say that like you expect me to answer in comprehensible English.
the Velveeta of Blogging Platforms™
It's not even Velveeta.
~
It's not even Velveeta.
Okay...How's about "The Kraft American Singles® of Self-Publishing"?
Oh, it's Velveeta®.
I vote for "the Cheez Whiz of Blogging Platforms".
I'm very much a newcomer in these here parts, late, as always, for everything but dinner. I'm not sure whose link I followed to get here, but I knew that any blog which could make me laugh as much as you did, with that review of Mole Men Against the Son of Hercules, was worth following.
It's nice to be right, for a change.
Good gravy, Scott, that title almost had me skeered, but then I saw the delightful skull reclining on the keyboard, and decided it must be all in fun.
Ten years, is it? I guess I've been reading WOC regularly for about half that, maybe a bit more -- back to Bush II-two, when it was a choice between laughing, screeching, or (h/t "Catch-22") eating my liver. You and s.z. have helped me to not eat my liver and to keep the screeching intermittent.
What more can I say? You all are super. Doghouse was just right. May your T-zone never dim!!!
Velveeta...the Cheese that would not Die.
(many points for divining the source of THAT one)
Is it weird that I have had more than a few happy moments imagining that weekend in Chicago? It's weird, isn't it. Well, you know, official stalker and all. I'm pretty sure it was my job to be kind of weird now and then, at least at a legally designated distance.
As the great Molly Ivins once said, You can laugh, you can cry, or you can throw up. This has been my forever home on the nets because crying makes me throw up and throwing up makes me cry.
My partner's going to some weird relative's wedding next week, and was demanding I help with the card. So I should be good at this whole sentiments thing by now, having searched the web for advice.
Apparently I should be honest, sound genuine (those seem somewhat at odds, actually), say something personal about each of you, not force my religion on you, and write as I speak rather than using flowery phrases for the hell of it. Armed with this information, and after my partner rejected "This is a terrible idea but since you barely know us you won't listen. Here's a toaster.", I shall just copy the same sentiment here because I'm also lazy:
SZ, Scott, and Mary, happy blogisversary. We are glad to see the blessings you bring to each other on this special day. We hope that you will continue to give each other joy and happiness in your new life together. Here's a toaster.
OK, here I sit, surrounded, as always, by a positive welter of smart, funny commentators and unable to think of anything that will measure up. Sigh.
So, if that headline was anything BUT ironic, you would be so in trouble. This is my Interwebz home and I thank you so much for accepting me into your gang.It has been a great 10 years worth of funnies and cats and heart - go for more. Also, thanks for introducing me to the formidable,irreplaceable Doghouse - who knew Indiana politix could be so fascinating - and to The Bloggess - a true weirdo.
So, don't stop now just when I'm enjoying myself.
Hugs.
Suezboo
Sorry to be late to the anniversary, but CONGRATULATIONS, you brilliant, wonderful, wicked-snarky bastids ya!!
I am en route to teh bed, so there are only 25 out of my 60 remaining brain cells firing at the moment; thus, I will gift you with brevity, that most-precious of all gifts, especially from ME!
It has already BROKEN MY HEART, FOR FUCKING ***YEARS*** NOW, that Sheri doesn't post anymore. If *you* so much as ATTEMPT to bail on this blog, Scott Clevenger {you too, Mary!}, I will not only hitchhike out there to put my foot so far up your ass that you'll be flossing with my orthopedic shoestrings, I will KIDNAP YOU, WRAPPED HEAD-TO-TOE IN CHEAP DUCT TAPE, TAKE YOU OUT TO THE FUCKING DESERT, AND LEAVE YOU IN A "SWEAT LODGE" WITH AN ASSLOAD OF YUPPIE-SCUM MORMONS, JEEHOVERS ***AND*** PENTECOSTALS, SO HELP ME!!!!!! And fuck yes, you'll have to FIND YOUR OWN WAY HOME, so be nice to them Jeehovers --- gas, grass or ass don't float with them!
Ha, DSidhe! Here's one for the next time your partner makes that kind of request (though perhaps, well, lesson learned amirite?): I am a perpetual flea market scrounger and once discovered this vintage postcard that I kept meaning to send to SOMEONE, then decided I couldn't part with it (and I hate to tell you how often that's happened). It says "May the Bluebird of Happiness build its nest in your life's garden!"
Whatever birds have nested in YOUR garden, Scott, I hope Riley and Moondoggie let them continue to work their magic cuz you and your fellow Crappers have been a total laugh refuge for me! I don't think I could tolerate the loss of you AND Doghouse in the same decade!
you could probably use my face as a makeshift heliograph if you had to
Thanks to my having seen "The Man From Planet X" I know what a heliograph is, ta-da.
Merry Crapmas!
Oh, Carl, please... "The Brain That Wouldn't Die," the movie treatment that got me sucked-into Scott's delightfully skewed worldview-as-doctored-screenplays bad-movie addiction, and I have enjoyed every severely-demented therapy session of its type ever since.
And thank you, Porrofatto, for mentioning my useless name in the same breath as giants like Doghouse & D. Sidhe... you are far, far too kind, but I won't hold it against you.
It just gives me such joy to see so many wunnerful people in one place, and to see such delightful salvos across our virtual green room, I could never hope for a better innernet-toobs home.
I may not always get all of the jokes or references that are way above my head and its barren environs, but I still laugh my fat ass off at the end results. Thanks to you all for letting me hang out on your playground.
But no, Scott, I've not changed a wit of the above threat-promise. Don't even THINK about it. Especially not when I'm even more home-bound from October's knee surgery --- y'all are my only social life, which isn't a bad thing --- but you have to show up and pull that heavy load, regardless of YOUR spinal travesties or Mary's ridiculously Job-like torments, or if yer Feline Overlords can't decide if you're allowed to use the keyboard at any given time. You're screwed, son, you're stuck with all of us. FOR GOOD.
(And no, dearly-beloved Mary, I would *never* compare you or your life to Steve JOBS, I was reaching-back a bit farther than THAT.)
As per the usual, that should have said, "WHIT," not "wit," a long-missed, but dearly-remembered, concept that departed my life in 1986. Wish that I could blame it on the damned HTML this time, but alas, nope.
Dear Sweet Baby Jesus On A Pogostick... Don't you DARE scare me like that. Bad things come in threes, you know.
(Love the "prove you're not a robot selections. "veloreg" is probably a dino bureaucrat they cut from Jurassic Park, and 212 is my old area code.)
Happy belated anniversary, baby.
P.S. I know what a heliograph is, thanks to MOVIES. Sadly, I'm a little fuzzy on the concept of a toaster, but hey, looks like you got a nice one.
Thanks, Stacia. And I also have to thank you for my knowledge of heliographs, however modest, since it stems almost entirely from your amusing and informative autopsies of the ol' RAIDERS OF GHOST CITY serial.
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