Quick! Get into the DeLorean and go back to October 2, 2007 before you promised to comment everywhere!
(be patient!)
A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: Size 20
Month: October 2007 (Page 3 of 3)
Schmutzie, Jenandtonic, and Sweetney had this idea to make today “The Great Mofo Delurk.”  You’ve probably seen stuff like this before. The idea is to coax bloggers from out of the virtual woodwork and have them say hello by delurking and commenting.Â
This is a great idea. I love hearing from readers, but I feel a little guilty asking readers to delurk for me.  I’m already blessed with the best commenters in the blogosphere. I can hardly keep up with the blogging friends I already have.  I don’t even comment enough on THEIR blogs!  I’ve even lost touch with some bloggers because I haven’t been keeping up with them, which makes me a little sad. Do I really need more virtual friends in my life?   What am I — blog selfish?
That said, I think it is important to keep adding new people to the mix.  The blogosphere is cliquish enough, without me adding to it.  We are supposed to be a community, and you are part of the community. Yes, YOU, whether you like it or not. Now, I know the feeling many of you have, especially when you are a new blogger: everyone is in-groupy except for YOU.  Here’s my advice. Take a deep breathe and repeat after me, “Blogging is Bullshit.” Feel insecure in real life, but never in virtual life. Even the writers at Techcrunch or Engadget write in their underwear. I don’t care if you have 10,000 readers, or 10 — you will be treated the same crappy way here at “Citizen of the Month.” Don’t be intimidated by me. Don’t be afraid that your comment isn’t “clever” enough.  Very few people write clever comments, and the ones that seem good have usually been rewritten by me.
If you choose to delurk, don’t do it for me.  Do it for yourself.  It is the best way to interact with others. And if we don’t become best buddies, maybe you’ll hit if off with someone else who visits this blog. I met 99% of my blogging friends from reading the comments of other bloggers, and following the link.  You’re in luck here at “Citizen of the Month” – the commenters here are particularly smart and sexy, even if they are somewhat eccentric.Â
And in honor of “The Great Mofo Delurk,” anyone who comments today on this special day and says hello, whether you are an old or new reader, will get back three times the LOVE!  That’s right, if you comment today, I will promise to write a comment on your next three posts.  That’s right — THREE comments for just ONE comment.  You think Dooce is ever gonna offer you that?! A deal like that doesn’t come too often!Â
(small print — this special deal is valid only until 11:59PM October 3, 2007)
A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:Â Â Class Trip
He’s not as sex-obsessed as he makes himself out to be in his blog posts. In his mind, he might be making love to his latest female commenter, but in reality he mostly wants to talk about life, love, and make silly jokes with her. OK, maybe with some feeling her up as they talk, just for fun. He likes breasts a lot. But, truth be told, he is probably more emotional and sentimental, and fearful, about intimacy than most women. He worries that he talks too much. He worries that talking too much is too girl-like.
He finds Sophia hot. He thinks she likes him, too. It’s too bad they drive each other crazy. It is a strange marriage. Sophia is much sexier than he is. Sophia understands make-up sex. He doesn’t understand make-up sex. After an argument, he pouts for days with his arms crossed. His relationship with Sophia is complex. It is frustrating — in many ways.
Twice in his life, before he was married, he had a naked woman who he hardly knew come into his bed uninvited, one drunk, one a roommate’s ex — and both times, despite their advances, he just talked with them. He is more comfortable talking. Or writing.
Is that why none of you see him as dark, mysterious, and dangerous, despite his clear intentions to portray himself as that? He’d like to be thought of as dark, mysterious, and dangerous, the type of man who has passionate trysts in dark alleys, the woman pressed against the wall, her legs tightly wrapped his waist. But he would probably worry too much about the garbage in the alley. Or rats. He likes comfortable beds with nice sheets. Maybe it is a Jewish thing.
Sophia is still asleep in bed. He likes to watch her when she sleeps.
Wendy, one of his favorite blogging-friends, is coming to town this week and they are seeing “Wicked” together — alone, sans spouses. He is excited to meet her, but also a little disappointed. One day, he’d like a blogger to be too afraid of meeting him, thinking him too dark, mysterious, and dangerous. That’s how he feels when he meets YOU.
He likes to use the word f**k on his blog. One day, he will be able to write the word without astericks. Or make love in some exotic locale, like an airplane or the roof of a Manhattan apartment building, or a dark alley, like they do in the movies.
Despite the humor of it all, his talking Penis is important to him. Without his talkng Penis prodding him, tormenting him, he would spend his life just writing and talking. Let me change that. He would have NOTHING to write or talk about. Or he would be so polite and agreeable, you would want to vomit.
This is all off the record, of course. Please go back to thinking him as a Hebrew Don Juan.
I felt bad about the last salacious post, and I thought it was time for me to write something a little more wholesome, in honor of the arrival of October and one of my favorites – Pumpkin Pie!
Pumpkin Pie
Women love – they crave – pumpkin pie
And clueless men ask me, “Why oh why?”
Seriously, men, why such a surprise
Women love pumpkin pie just like us guys!
So listen carefully to my little poem
And make her happy at home sweet home.
Pumpkin pie will make her day
When it is served a certain way
Some like it cold, some like it hot
Do whatever will hit her spot
Some like the pie with a little whipped cream
If you serve it right, she’ll likely scream.
So bring her over to the Pumpkin Patch
She’ll find the pumpkin to itch her scratch
Pumpkins of every shape and size
Lying there, waiting — a feast for her eyes
It’s October, the heavenly bells do ring
The time of year when all women sing
“Pumpkin Pie! Pumpkin Pie!
Bring me some of the Pumpkin Pie!
Pumpkin Pie! Pumpkin Pie!
Without your sweetness,
I might as well die!”
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