Category Archives: blogging about blogging again

The answer to the question “Is blogging dead?”

I’ve been doing interviews for the book release and I’m never prepared for the questions in spite of the fact that the questions are mainly about me, but in my defense I find myself a bit tedious (that bitch is everywhere – it’s like she’s stalking me) so I’m not usually paying attention to what I’m doing.  But this week I’ve had several reporters all start with the question, “Is blogging dead?” and I’ve finally started answering with “Well if it is that makes me one hell of a necrophiliac because I’m still doing it WITH ZEST”.  But then I started wondering if when these articles come out they’re just going to say: “Jenny Lawson, total weirdo, recently came out as an ardent necrophiliac.  ‘I DO IT WITH ZEST’ she confessed in a recent interview.”  So that’s why I’m coming out right now to say that I am NOT a fan of necrophilia for myself or for anyone else.  That is my official statement.  The end.

Except I guess it’s not really the end because now that I’ve brought up the question of whether blogging is dead I’m probably expected to flesh it out.  Except that readers here know I never flesh anything out properly so I suppose I’m off the hook.  Which is exactly what blogging is all about.  It’s about writing whatever crazy shit you want to write and having some people say “YES!  I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE” and some say “What the shit is wrong with you?” and 99.99% of the world say nothing because they don’t know I exist.  And that is blogging.  And in that way it’s the same blogging that existed when I started blogging 9 years ago.  There are some changes, of course.  In the last 9 years some amazing bloggers have decided not to blog anymore.  And sometimes they come back and sometimes they don’t and sometimes they’re replaced by other amazing bloggers who write hysterical or moving or entertaining fluffy things.  And that’s a very good thing.

The only thing that’s dead is the possibility of making a million bucks on blogging, which honestly never existed as an attainable goal for any of us in the first place.  If you’re blogging to make a million dollars you should probably switch to something more lucrative, like…I dunno…making a sex tape.  But not with a dead person.  I’ve been very clear on this, y’all.

But here’s the great thing about realizing that making a mint in blogging isn’t really feasible or worthwhile…now you’re free to write whatever the shit you want to write without having to worry about brands and advertisers and alienating angry, easily-offended people who are actually really fun to alienate.  And that’s why we all got into writing in the first place, right?  Just me?  You know what?  It might be just be me.  And that’s fine because every single writer writes for their own specific reason.  Some of us write for a living.  Some of us write for fun.  Some of us write because we have no other choice because writers write always and if they aren’t blogging they’re writing a book or a journal or (if you’re anything like me) scrawling ideas of things you’re afraid you’ll forget on your arm until you can get home and jot it all down.  That is what writing is about, and blogging is just one iteration of writing.  Writing never dies.  And thank fucking God for that.

PS. I’m incredibly lucky in that this blog is sponsored almost entirely from the awesome people in my sidebar who support my writing.  They are fantastic and because of them I don’t have to inflate page views by creating annoying slideshows or unneeded page breaks or have to rent out my blog for other people’s voices or other bullshit I’m honestly far too irresponsible to do anyway.  If you appreciate this then go click on them and check them out.  They are fantastic and  interesting and lovely and proof that the question “Is blogging dead?” isn’t really a question worth asking.

PPS.  It would be nice if this question brought attention to great bloggers instead of making bloggers question what they’re doing so if you have a blogger that you love that you think needs attention, share them in the comments.  There’s always room for great voices.

PPPS.  I don’t have a good image for this post but this is my blog so I can post whatever picture I want.  So here’s a picture of my cat’s butthole:


PPPPS.  Spellcheck is trying to tell me I can’t use the word “butthole” and that I should change it to “buttonhole”.  Fuck you, spellcheck.  This is exactly the kind of shit I don’t have to put up with.

PPPPPS.  Except I just remembered that my grandparents read this blog and so I’m including another picture of Hunter S. Thomcat with less genitals.  This is for you, granny and papaw.  Love you.


You can call me “Spatula” for short.

Did you read my post about Victor always being wrong even though he’s mostly right, and the internet’s enthusiasm in enabling me in what’s probably a very unhealthy but also fantastic way?  If so, then you’ll realize why this is so awesome.

According to wikipedia, this is all accurate and the changes were listed under the category of “Truthfulness“.  (Click on the picture to super-size.)

wikipedia bloggess oct 2014

A few highlights:

  • My name is now: Jennifer Juanita Spatula Jezebel Who-Let-The-Dogs-Out Lawson
  • Under the category of “children” it lists two: “1 daughter, 1 husband”.
  • My religion is “Bloggessianism” and I was born in “Time” and “Space”
  • New facts:  1)  “In arguments and discussions with her husband, Victor, she is right and he is wrong.”  2)  “She also owns a chicken.”

Several people have said they misread my spouse as “Victim” rather than “Victor” and frankly that seems fair because Victor is a tremendous good sport considering the ridiculousness I involuntarily drag him into.  In fact, he told me he agreed completely with all of the “Victor is wrong” websites, but I’m pretty sure he just did that because if Victor is right about always being wrong then that must be wrong which means that Victor is right and wrong at the same time and I’m pretty sure that creates some sort of paradox and now we’ll be sucked into a wormhole.  

And that just seems wrong.  

Full circle, you guys.

PS.  I sort of like that “Bloggessianism” is listed as a religion because now when people try to give me pamphlets about their religion I can just give them back my own pamphlets.  My only problem is that I don’t really know anything about Bloggessianism so it’s going to be a very small pamphlet unless we come up with shit to go in there.  I’m just spitballing here so feel free to leave suggestions in the comments.

Some basic tenets of the Church of Bloggessianism:

  • Don’t be an asshole.
  • Extra gravy for everyone.
  • Two holy days of observance each month requiring Bloggessians to take the day off and watch bad tv or read in bed.  We also get all the regular holidays off for every other religion because we’re incredibly open-minded and like to support other beliefs as well.  This includes Talk-Like-A-Pirate-Day, National Donut Day, Deviled Egg Appreciation Day, etc.  (FYI…today is National Chocolate Day so if you’re at work you need to leave right now and go make some s’mores for religious reasons.)
  • If you see a sloth you are given special dispensation to hug it.  Present your official card to any zoo officials.
  • Someone needs to make an official I-Can-Hold-A-Sloth-Because-It’s-Against-My-Religion-Not-To card.
  • Mosquitos are now illegal.
  • Wearing slippers and pajamas in public is a sign of your faith and you’re allowed to kick judgey people in the knee if they question you.  Togas are also acceptable if you are feeling particularly religious or if you’ve run out of clean clothes altogether.


This is what’s happening in my mind anyway.

This weekend I’ll be at WordCamp in San Francisco to talk about blogging.

I’m not afraid to admit that my 10-year-old daughter knows far more about coding than I do, and that I suspect anyone who can create a website using strings of seemingly random words and numbers must be involved in some sort of witchcraft.  If anyone asks me any difficult questions about programming or java or algorithms I will probably react in almost exactly this way:

You’ve been warned, San Francisco.

Search terms that make me question what’s going on in your life.

Every so often I look at the things people were searching for on the internet that brought them to this blog.  Then I shake my head at humanity.  Then I copy the least offensive but most baffling searches and share them here with you.  Because I’m a giver.  

What people were searching for on the internet this week that led them here:

  • “How to know I’m not in a coma”
  • “accidental lesbian”
  • “u didn’t have to hang up on me you shuld have told me u dont want me to call you poem”
  • “monkeys kissing people walk on the vagina”  (It feels like there should be a period here, but I’m not sure where.)
  • “Miss Johnson you’re amazing”
  • “I want to eat you down into the belly.”  (Wow.  English is not your first language, is it?  Because this is not a good pick-up line.)
  • “Our cat had 4 babies, now there’s 3. Did it eat baby?”
  • “Naked woman hula hooping”
  • “I don’t know what i just did.  I just peed on my favorite adult cats.”  
  • “Pictures of me naked”  (You’re not doing this internet thing right.)
  • “Tell them other bitches funny songs. I’m the one dumb as a 62 ounce slurpee drink”
  • “tentacle pregnancy egg”
  • “Hire people to beat someone up”
  • “hemorrhaging & puddle of blood”  (Why are you on the internet?  GO TO THE DOCTOR.)
  • “Had nervous breakdown/now my daughter is “taking care” of me/what do I do?”
  • “I just cut five inches off my hair. how do i get my hairs back?”  (Oh, honey.  Bless your stupid heart.)
  • “I will never go back to jail.”
  • “Jenny Lawson is a tall treat.”  (Aw, shucks.)
  • “dig dog up to see how he died”  (I’m guessing he died because you buried him?)
  • “crafty unicorn made out of real hair”
  • “Fuck off.  I’m fabulous.”
  • “Those chimpanzees will be sued”
  • “Is it ok to let my dog eat me?”  (I don’t know what this means…but in any case, no.)
  • “how do you get the dog stop sucking the head eggs and let me have a phone number to call them people?”
  • “that one had hair on it”
  • “Gandalf, you better be at my door” (YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF GANDALF.)
  • “78 year old lady does her own home perms”
  • “How to remove tracker bug from belly button?”  (I think you’re confusing real life with the Matrix again.)
  • “mushroom looks like snowman”
  • “guys sit on a buck of fireworks and pops the butt.”
  • “Something red is poking from my belly button.”  (Is it a tracker bug?)
  • “What will happen if you let a moth in your ear?”  (This is like the insect version of “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie”.)
  • “Why shouldn’t some cats play cards?”
  • “WHERE M I NOW?”  (Based on your search, I’d guess “a bar”.)
  • “do-it-yourself cat costumes for toddlers”
  • “Did nellie oleson eat shit on little house on the prairie?”
  • “can you paint cat’s toenails?”
  • “Can I use butter on my dog?”  
  • “Whatever happened to Lou Diamond Phillips?”
  • “Why does my cat smell my left eye?”
  • “why do blueberry unicorns cross the milk chocolate river when they could just fly to the other side?”
  • “Why is there a really long grey hair coming out of my stomach?
  • “What happens if you can’t dig up St Joseph’s body after your house sells?”
  • “What does it mean when someone says ‘Fuck yeah I like watermelon’?”  
  • “Anyone having nightmares about Morgan Freeman?”
  • “Is it ok with Jesus when I am pretending to pray but I am not?”  (Have you even read these other searches?  YOU’RE FINE.)

I think we all knew the world would end like this anyway.

and thats how the world ended

Original image

UPDATED:  I posted this and then Facebook immediately crashed.  The implosion has begun, people.

Oh, hell yes.

This video:

This gives me back my faith in social media.

A giant salute to any of you who have ever quit a job that focuses on pageviews and ad dollars over quality.  Another salute to those of you who sometimes spend days in silence rather than adding something blah just for hits.  Sometimes it’s okay to just shut up and listen.  Sometimes it’s okay to just use your voice to promote other people’s awesomeness.  I’m a writer, but I’m also an enormous reader too.  Thank you for respecting the latter in the decisions you make about what you put out into the world.

And another thank you to the people on my blog who advertise here.  I know how rare it is to be able to pay for my server costs without using an ad network.   I recognize how lucky I am that most of the advertisers I have on my blog are fellow writers or bloggers or artists or small businesses who never tell me what I can or can’t write.  I’m so lucky that I usually have waiting lists of people to get on my sidebar because people are so happy to support this blog.  I love that my readers discover new and amazing people who advertise here.  And mostly, I love that I’m part of this community.  Thank you for that.

PS.  Speaking of letting other voices be heard, have you read or heard something lately that you’d like to share?  A song, a book, a post?  If so, leave it in the comments.  It’s up to us to make sure the good rises to the top, and that doesn’t always happen without help.  Spotlight the good.  Banish the shit.  Ignore the mediocre.  This is the way we work.  This is the way we get better.  This is the way we learn.

PPS.  And by “we” I mean “me” too.  I’m still learning every day what works and what doesn’t.  I’m still learning that sometimes my silly fluff can be amazing, but it can also be utter crap.  Also, “good” doesn’t necessarily mean “happy and sweet and positive.”  Some of the best, most important and hardest things to read are critical or painful or bitter.  Sometimes that means reading hard facts about ourselves.  Sometimes that means admitting that there’s a kernel of truth there and that change is needed.  Sometimes it means learning to judge yourself in a kinder way.  Sometimes it means that there are assholes in the world who need to be punched in the junk.  But always, it is good.  Learning and listening and growing is good.

PPPS.  I’m rambling.  This is one of those posts where I look at it and wonder if it should go with the thousands of other of unfinished posts in my draft folder, but today I’m listening to the voice that says “This is good.  Not for everyone.  But maybe it will help for someone.”

I hope that someone is you.

And now I can't unsee it. And neither can you.

And this is why I have a love/hate relationship with Pinterest:


And in entirely unrelated news, it’s time for the weekly wrap up:

What you missed in my shop (tentatively called “Eight pounds of uncut cocaine” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

What you missed on the internets:

This week on shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:

This week’s wrap-up is sponsored by The Big Book of Dumb White Husband.  If you’re not him, you know him. He’s challenged the grocery store. He’s confronted the HOA. He’s even taken on Santa. He loses—a lot. These are the tales of the Dumb White Husband and they are now available all in one dumb place—the bestselling Big Book of Dumb White Husband by Benjamin Wallace.

And you still haven't found what you're searching for. Because my blog got in your way.

At the end of each year I pull up my analytics to see what search terms actually brought people to this blog because it’s incredibly confusing to everyone involved.  2012 was no exception and I’m sharing a few of my favorite google searches that brought you all here (in order of # people searching that term).  Never change, weirdos…

2012 Strange Google Searches That Brought People to The

“Knock knock, motherfucker” ~  3,308 

“Sasquatch sightings”  ~ 2,086

“This chicken will cut you” ~ 490

“Thanks for ruining batman” ~ 403

“I have no idea what I’m doing” ~ 288

“No one’s going to be able to relate to a corpsey chocolate vampire and his gay bird lover” ~ 99

“Feet must be covered while sleeping” ~ 79

“Hamster erections” ~ 79

“What size shirt should my cat wear?” – 69

“Chupacabra cobra death match” ~ 59

“zombie chicken porn” ~ 49

“What to do if your wife is obsessed with unicorns?” ~ 40

“What size shirt does a 20 lb cat wear?” – 35

“Nathan Fillion shirtless” – 32

“Green poop at Disney World” ~ 31

“Dead whores” ~ 29

“World of Warcraft blow job” ~ 16

“National Vomit Day” ~ 14

“I hate it when I’m eating and a t-rex steals my chair” ~ 14

“Shit that shouldn’t be” ~ 10

“Meth in vagina makes sex better” ~ 5

“hey my name is rebekah what’s yours? i really like baked cheese and bears and such hahahahahahha i can type without looking at my key board” ~ 4

“Unruly vagina hair” – 4

“How did the hamsters even get jet lag?” ~ 3

“Do predators on To Catch a Predator get paid to be on tv?” ~ 1

“One letter is in my name is misspelled on my meds so will they take it at the airport?” ~ 1

“Cute tabby kittens saying misspelled things” ~ 1

“Nazi outfit on a weasel” ~ 1

“Raccoon albino with mange” ~ 1

“Raccoon albino without mange” ~ 1

“Cheese is funner”  ~ 1

“Would a picture of fork tines sticking out someones butt be considered art?” ~ 1

“Anteaters dressed like people” ~ 1

“bunnies aren’t just cute like every body supposes, they got them hoppy tails and twitchy little noses, and whats with all the carrots, what do they need such good eye sight for any way, bunnies, bunnies it must be bunnies” ~ 1


In unrelated news, it’s time for the weekly wrap up.

What you missed in my shop (tentatively called “Eight pounds of uncut cocaine” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

What you missed on the internets:

This week on shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:

This week’s wrap-up is sponsored by the lovely Masala Chica.  From the author: “In Hindi, the word “Masala” means spice. I originally wrote a lot about growing up Indian American but most of the posts I write are universal, so the whole “Masala” thing doesn’t make as much sense. But I still like it. I write about family, politics, feminism, music, books and I bitch about a lot of random things. Disclaimer: I like gay people, immigrants and the homeless. Be forewarned.”

This isn’t a real post

Hi.  This isn’t a real post.  It’s a video of me speaking in London.  Except that I wasn’t really in London because that would be expensive, so instead I just called in and they put me on the jumbotron so I LITERALLY looked enormous compared to the other women on the panel.   Part of my speech ended up on this video by the wonderful @newmumonline but luckily she edited out the part where I was attacked by my cat, and the other part where I pretended to be Godzilla stalking my tiny, unsuspecting co-panelists.

It was awesome.  Thank you, London.

Next class: How to keep bees with handguns

I don’t have a lot to say here because I live in a mixed political home and so things are always a bit tense here after election day, but I will say that we can all stand together as one nation in hatred of that sound  you get when you try to erase something, but you don’t have any eraser left and so the metal part of the pencil squeals over the paper and then accordions it all up.  I think we can all agree that that shit needs to stop.  Also, overuse of the word “moist” and the word “panties.”  People using the phrase “moist panties” should have to spend two weeks in community service replacing worn pencil erasers.  The end.


But not really because I had too much caffeine and can’t stop writing.  So instead I’ll share a bunch of shit I wrote that wasn’t funny enough to publish alone, in hopes that it gets funnier algebraically.


True story:  I get these emails from Amazon recommending local stuff they think I’d be into.  In the last week I’ve been offered special deals on Beekeeping Classes, Handgun Practice, Permanent Makeup and Reflexology/Zip Line…which just sounds dangerous. I can’t tell if they really know me, or if they really don’t know me at all.


Yesterday this thing happened to me that so blew my mind that I freaked out and called everyone I knew to tell them about it but then it turns out that I can’t write about because (swear to God) it might endanger the well-being of The Doctor and myself.  I have never in my entire life wanted to write about anything so much and it’s killing me inside.  I don’t have anything funny to add here but just pretend that I just proved without a shadow of a doubt that a possible real-life Time Lord and I spent some quality time together talking about testicles and I have pictures to prove it that I can never show.  And this is exactly why being a companion must be so bloody hard.


My friend Edwin sent me this tweet:


And I thought it was weird that he would send me something so rude that twitter would actually hide the image from me, but I went ahead and changed my settings to let even the most horrific images come through and then I clicked it again.

Oh. Awesome.

Thanks, twitter.