Blogging will resume when I get the respect I damn well deserve. And not a moment sooner. Period.
I hope I’ve made myself clear.
****
update: Ooh, muffins, thanks! But wait, no milk…?
update 2: When I said “respect,” what I really meant was muffins. Muffins. That is all.
Respect this, bitch.
Er, wait, sorry, I meant to say “We all love you very much. No. Really.”
Christ, Jeff, one more Instalanche and you’ll have more traffic than Glenn. I’m jealous. I haven’t had an Instalanche since November!!
I’ll respect you in the morning. I promise.
In the immortal words of Eric Cartman: “You will respect my auth-or-i-tah.”
Two words: more rectum.
I prostate myself before the keyboard of the world’s greatest living blogger.
Is that better? Of course, listening to commercials on the way to work, I can only assume that since you have been descended to the depths of blogosperic self esteem issues, you must already have the job, salary, mortgage, gutter protection, automobile, and peace of mind that you deserve!
I tip my hat to the Dadaist movement’s foremost blogger.
(Wait…you’re not actually a Dadaist? Those posts were serious? Uhhhh….let’s see, something nice….you have a fabulous layout!)
I have a new favorite verb!
“Why don’t you go prostate yourself”
Sweet.
Get back to the keyboard, you little bitch.
“Blogging will resume when I get the respect I damn well deserve.”
– – -Shouldn’t you shoot a little higher?
You’re Rick James, bitch!
I shall revive my slumbering blog to give you respect. Or at least a trackback.
R-E-S-P-E-C-T,
Find out what it means to Jeff G.
Man, that’s lame. Of course, so am I.
And, FWIW, I did not mean prostrate, what with all the emphasis on rectums, etc., lately.
e.g. “Is that your prostate?” “Yes, that prostate belongs to me.”
[/channelling Jeff G.]
Of course I respect you, Jeff. Ever since that time you got really drunk and started swinging your penis around the bar.
Not shaking, not waving, but swinging. The damn thing took out a cocktail waitress and a bottle of single malt scotch.
Jeff, I absolutely love your mind- plese don’t stop….
Steve—You should see it when it gets angry! Or excited!
On second thought, scratch that. You should never ever have to see it again. I apologize.
Rae—thanks for the muffins!
Milk; milk, o.k. I’ll give you milk, too, anything to keep the keyboard clicking…
I nominate you for Stephen Den Beste’s “ideal mate”, and you’re still not satisfied?
Postrate. Prostate. You’re not gonna take that shit from Charles lying down, are you, Jeff?
Jeff, hold out for more! Tell ‘em blogging will resume when you get the respect I deserve.