Here we are, on the eve of my one year blogoversary, nearing the arbitrary deadline I have set for myself to be honored on the pages of BoingBoing, like such blogging luminaries as Dr. Monkey Von Monkerstein and Becca.
I have shown the world Super Mario Homemade Macaroni and Cheese.
I have given it a Steampunk bar of soap.
I have even translated a short story into the vernacular of a zoned-out seventh grader, a voice all too absent from our intellectual discourse in this baby-boomer dominated world.
Will my sort of not half-assed efforts pay off? I don’t know.
I do know that if you want to see I, Splotchy BoingBoinged, you have the means within your power.
If you have seen something cool on my site, whether it was yesterday or a year ago, you can suggest it to the tastemakers of BoingBoing here. You’ll be glad you did. Actually, I’ll be glad you did, and isn’t that really the same thing?
If I do not make it into BoingBoing before the arrival of my blogoversary, don’t worry. I won’t wilt like a fragile flower. Sure, there will be weeping, but it will be the strong, silent kind.
And I do have one last trick up my sleeve.
Just to show how disconnected I am from the universe, I had no idea what the hell BoingBoing was until you started documenting your quest. I hope your last trick doesn’t involve invading a sovereign nation!
I bet you’re going to create your own cult.
I got BoingBoinged early in my blogging career — too early, really. Not for something I wrote, though. I merely sent them a link about a microwaved penis. And they were all, “Thanks, Patrick!” Still, at least it was a link-back.