Blob Readers

Sometimes you get emails that really make your day.

People tell you the nicest things and give you encouragement and tell you your hair smells like jasmine and you poop gold nuggets of joy.

They say things like, "I was just perusing the google net thing in an attempt to find out what was going on at my local news hole NBC Bay Area. Laura? Lisa? ..ah, ah ..when I found myself at your bloggity web site deal and was sooo entertained. I wish more of our local personalities would expose their wickedly funny dark side as you do so cleverly well. I’m sure the Good Doctor is quite proud of his misses."

To which I respond: AS IF other local personalities had wickedly funny dark sides! Some are wicked. Some are dark. Plenty are not funny or clever. And some should definitely not expose anything. Particularly not in sleeveless tops.

Other email tidings of good will include humorously veiled threats:

"You need to stop writing your blog.  Or at least put some sort of warning at the top of the page warning people not to drink or eat while reading it, because otherwise things will start shooting out of their nose.  Things like milk.  Or they will aspirate toast crumbs from all the laughing.

I'm telling you this from experience.  Well, from many close calls actually.  MANY close calls.  And I just only made it halfway through your "About Me" page.

Seriously.  Please stop.  Because I don't know if I can choose between eating and reading it.  And my husband, who turned me onto your blog, can't seem to get any work done because it takes him nearly a half-day to recover from his laughing fits."

Some commenters' sentences leave me wanting more, "Keep up the good work.  I thought the ox cake was probably the best looking cake ever.  And Emmy is so just very."

I especially love the readers who compare my writing to real authors. AS IF. "I am just a fan who recently stumbled on your blog, and I LOVES it.  My Marvin will be one month old tomorrow.  While she naps, I sneak onto the Internets and catch up a little bit more of your blog.  It is more entertaining than Grisham."

Or, "Keep up the great writing!  In fact, keep it up so that you can write books (Dave Barry seems to be slowing down - you should take a crack at a humor column)."

There are always the people who track you down too. But hopefully not in a scary jail kind of way: "I love your blog!!  You are definately keeping it real, your wit, humor, and candid honesty is refreshing!!  After a moment, I realized you were a reporter here in AZ.  I wonder what happens to reporters, they seem to just disappear and new ones appear.  Anywho, just had to let you know your blog makes me laugh, and you are correct the summer heat here in Phoenix is Satan's Lounge!! I heard once Arizona is a bad place for God in the winter the weather is so nice everyone forgets about God, and in the summer it's soo hot noone is afraid of hell."

I especially feel for those who relate to The Good Doctor, "Just wanted to let you know that I stumbled across your blog yesterday when I was looking for the story about the bad contractors.  The best blog I've read in a long time, hands down.  Your style is down-to-earth, funny, witty and familiar all at once.  I was trying to convey to my wife last night just how funny I found the story about The Good Doctor and critical Asian Grandpa frying the turkey.  Your father reminds me of my wife's father (he's Filipino, but it's the same stern, disapproving look), and I'm a white guy, so it really connected with me.  I can't tell you how many times I've offered to do something that I know how to do really, really well, only to be "instructed in the correct way" by my father in law, who has either never tried it, or doesn't have the right tools."

Haaaa. That's what you get for marrying an immigrant. Immigrant in-laws!

But JUST when you're feeling floaty and sky high and you're singing Andre 3000 at the top of your lungs, "I know you'd like to thank your shit don't stank. But lean a little bit closer ... roses really smell like POO-OO-O" even though it doesn't really make sense, you come home and there's your husband. Who spies on your blog and takes ownership like it's his blog and tsks tsks when your robots are down.

"Did you see your latest comment?"

Me: "No. I just got home from makin' bacon."

Him, handing over iPad (that we "didn't need" that he uses 89% of the time): "Well..." 

Anonymous female commenter: "Do you know you are a dumb cunt and your blog is the most annoying one i've stumbled upon yet? Good day to you you annoying slanty eyed bitch."

I won't lie. I totally gasped. Words can be so mean, especially when they're written on your blob by an anonymous hater! 

But after the initial sting, which lasted several hours, perhaps a day, I started to laugh. Crazy, uncontrollable laughing like a maniac on Valium in the doctor's office. I won't deny or confirm whether that actually happened to me in the corner of a waiting room while tears may or may not have streamed down my face as people stared and wondered if I was laughing or crying. I may or may not have been unable to stop because I was TAH-ripping hard.

Back to the dumb cunt comment. I mean really, is my blog bad enough to warrant the C-word? And a racist slur? I mean MY GOODNESS. You don't even know me well enough to hate that much. But somehow, it turned from super hurtful to totally hilarious. We still get a good laugh from it. Out of nowhere. It will be right before bed one night and I'll collapse on The Good Doctor and go, "Remember that hater chick? DUDE! She got prolllems!" and we just bust up laughing and repeating various forms of that comment in different accents, imagining WHO DOES THAT kind of thing. Because it's so absurd and mean and hateful and OVER THE TOP in a way the internet just brings out of people. 

Good day to you indeed! At least she bid me a semi-polite goodbye. You can't Nguyen 'em all I suppose.