Wow. We’re second behind wonkette? I’m surprised she hasn’t left the country and moved into a luxury closet in Bernie’s chalet in St. Petersburg. Meanwhile, Little Green Footballs has continued its slide in popularity, and of those 64K+ more popular blogs in the US, there are undoubtedly a significant number that post nothing more than cute cat videos and salad recipes.
Meanwhile, we need to address the graph. For some reason Alexa skews the vertical axis, but we’re happy to correct the anomaly.
Good job, Charles. We love ya, man.
[Update: Related post here.]
Okay, that’s not Charles Johnson. It’s Kimiko Nishimoto, and she is awesome. She doesn’t sport a magical jazzy ponytail, but she sure looks like Charles Johnson on a rampage in that costume. Until Charles updates his gravitar, this will have to do.
[Apologies to Ms. Nishimoto for the comparison. It’s not your fault.]
It wasn’t the side that helped him out and brought his little green footblog into the spotlight that Johnson aligned himself with. It was the pasty pudgy underbelly of humanity that he was always a part of and could never abandon, no matter how many state flags, air cav hats and menuboards he misidentified. Johnson is going places, so watch where you step.
The libblog Balloon Juice was turning on The Gray Lady for publishing an op-ed on Donald Trump that wasn’t 100% negative, and guess who got a pat on his pudgy scrunchie?
Yeah, he was replying to himself and two others shortly before he Tweeted his intention to get hammered on New Years Eve… alone.
Balloon Juice has rotating subtitles, too, and the one that showed up on the screencap is appropos, especially for Charles Johnson.
Congrats, Charles. You made the big time.
May the New Year Be Prosperous
for Mockers and Stalkers Everywhere
and may Charles Johnson continue to provide us with amusement for another twelve months.
Charles Johnson never wished anyone a Merry Christmas as far as I could recall, so I broke into the Blogmock Rec Room, busted the lock and opened the rusty hinge on the trap door hidden underneath the cat stuff behind the couch and climbed down into the stifling confines of The Boiler Room. I found a box marked “Christmas.”
You won’t find those legit comments via The Wayback Machine or on The World’s Greatest Search Engine, but there they are, a late, yet appreciated, Christmas present to Diary of Daedalus. Thank you, Charles.
In the spirit of giving, I went to Target today. The shipment will be a bit late, but it’s the thought that counts.