Category Archives: my cat’s toes

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:

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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.

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EVERY day is Cat Day

Apparently National Cat Day was October 29th and I missed it, so I guess that explains why Ferris Mewler threw up in my shoe.  In my defense, it was just World Cat Day in August.  Why do cats need so many days?  No clue.  But to make up for whatever I did to offend the cats I’m sharing the pictures I took of Ferris Mewler, who was ignoring me badly in spite of the fact that he would starve without me:

NOPE

Is it just me or is he flipping me off in that last picture?  Because I think he is.

This is exactly why people prefer dogs, Ferris.

 

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And now, the weekly wrap-up of awesomeness:

SID3

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit that I’m vaguely involved with on the internets:

Shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:

Shit you should buy or steal because it’s awesome:

This week‘s wrap-up is brought to you by Crumple + Toss, who are perfect for your holiday stationery needs. Everything from typical Christmas fare: nativities, poinsettias, and the like, to irreverent and hilarious selections guaranteed to offend.  This one is a personal fave.  Christmas not your jam? There’s plenty of Chanukah cards as well as “Happy Whatever” to cover your ass in awkward situations.  Come have a look around!

Rescue an animal. Let an animal rescue you.

My friend Anne is heavily involved in helping rescue animals and each year she makes a calendar of people with their adopted pets to give as a “thank-you” to anyone who donates at least $40 to Team Wheaton to help fund the Pasadena Humane Society & SPCA.

This year I’m in the calendar.  And more importantly, Ferris Mewler, Hunter S. Thomcat, Beyonce and Copernicus are in it.  (Plus actual famous people and their adopted pets.  See the video.)

pets

Here’s what it looks like:

If you want one, just donate $40 here.  It’s 100% tax deductible.

Hunter was fairly relaxed and okay with being held during the shoot at my house.  Ferris, on the other hand, bit me.  Like, literally, he bit me on the other hand.  Go to the 1:08 mark for proof.  He also kept jumping out of the shot so Victor hid behind the chair and petted him to keep him from running.  It was a team effort that ended up with minor blood-shed.

But it made for a good shot.

So go make a donation if you can.  Or go to your local shelter and snuggle the cats, or volunteer to take the dogs for walks, or drop off all of your old towels and blankets for them.  And then fall in love with these little faces and let them rescue you like you’ve rescued them.

Don't they look happy?  Answer: Yes.  If "happy" means "bitey and a little confused."

Don’t they look happy? Answer: Yes. If “happy” means “bitey and a little confused.”

PS. Below are just a few pets up for adoption at one of my favorite no-kill shelters (Austin Pets Alive).  If you adopt any of the ones pictured below I’ll pay the adoption fee myself.

pets adoption

And that’s why cats shouldn’t be allowed phones

Truthfully though, the same sort of progression happens to just about anyone when they begin taking selfies…

cat selfie

I don’t need your sarcasm, cats.

My cats, Rolly and Hunter S. Thomcat, pretty much every-damn-day-of-their-lives:

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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 Bad Radio, a novel from Michael Langlois.  In a nutshell, it’s about a guy who screwed up saving the world a long time ago and now he has a second chance.  He not only tries to save the world, but he also learns to find joy in life again after sixty years of moping.  It’s like one of those Moxie cola commercials from the forties, only with monsters.  Because everything’s better with monsters.

My cat has terrible handwriting

Victor:  I’m afraid to even ask this, but why do you have a reminder on the calendar to “set up an apartment for the cat“?

me:  What?  That doesn’t sound like something I’d do.

Victor:  Actually, it sounds exactly like something you’d do.

me:  Why would I set the cat up with an apartment?  That’s ridiculous.  Frankly, it sounds more like something the cat would do.

Victor:  The cat is amazingly good at faking your handwriting.

me:  That’s what you get for buying a cat with opposable thumbs.  Honestly, I have no memory of writing that.  Why would I even write that?

Victor:  Why do you do any of the things you do?

me:  That’s so weird.  I feel like I’m letting the cat down, and I don’t even know why.

**Ten minutes later**

me: OH MY GOD, I REMEMBER.  Cat APPOINTMENT.  It was a reminder to set up an appointment for the cat because he needs his shots.

Victor:  Ah.

me:  Holy crap, I’m so glad I figured that out.  That was going to bother me all day.

Victor:  Me too.

me:  Really?

Victor:  No, not at all.

me:  Is it just me or does the cat look disappointed?

Victor:  I’m going to need you to stop talking now.

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In non-related news, it’s time for the weekly wrap-up.  Let’s get started, shall we?

Disclaimer: That's not my body. You can tell because you can see ribs.

What you missed on my advice column (which some people still keep taking seriously in spite of the fact that it’s called Ill-Advised for a reason):

What you missed on the Houston Chronicle:

What you missed on my sex column (mildly safe for work if your boss isn’t a total douche-canoe):

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 sponsored by DrinkNeuro. I usually don’t do giveaways here, but I’m randomly giving out a few cases today because you seem particularly stressed out. Personally, I’m a fan of NeuroSleep. It’s like sunshine mixed with roofies. But healthier. (Product does not contain roofies. Unless “melatonin” is latin for “roofies”. Then it has a shitload of roofies in it.)