I didn't forget the anniversary

One year ago, out of fatigue and boredom and fatigue of boredom, I sat down at my friends apartment in Cambridge and wrote my first blog post. Within the next 24 hours, I wrote 5 more. I was quickly hooked, and occasionally funny. As the winter pressed on and as a brief stay at home turned into three months in the cold New York mountains, I wrote and I wrote and I wrote. I wrote to make myself laugh, I wrote to make Paul laugh, and I wrote to keep my sanity as I decided how exactly I was going to live the rest of my life. Or the next year or two -- whichever.

So I wrote. I wrote about The War on Christmas. I wrote about Fitness Celebrity John Basedow. I wrote about Saturday Night Live. I wrote about the hot toll booth worker on the Mass Pike. Twice. I wrote about embarrassing myself in front of Stevie Van Zandt. I wrote about how much I want to hate fuck Maureen Dowd. I wrote about arrogance. I wrote about ego. And again.

I wrote about Vince Young and Jack Abramoff. I wrote about Joe Biden and Stephen Baldwin. I wrote about the gym and the dentist.

I wrote about The State of the Union. I wrote about Dick Cheney: Big Game Hunter. I wrote about how much I hate Michael Brown and how big Bono's ego is. I wrote about evil movie villains, my predictions for 2006, and Michael Chertoff.

I wrote about the NBA all star game, President Bush's resume, funny slogans, Isaiah Thomas, and Elimidate. I wrote about Governor Schwarzenagger and Don Knotts. I wrote about transexuals and Barry Bonds, and sometimes both.

I wrote about my hatred for Aaron Karo. I wrote about evil and I wrote about pride. And vanity. I wrote about the Final Four and the sad state of our army. I wrote about finding out that I was part French, I wrote about torture, and I wrote about longing.

I wrote about Drudge, Carlos Boozer:Landlord, my hair, and Chinese buffets. I wrote about holocaust reenactments, Cynthia McKinney, CNN, and Mark Warner.

I wrote about the Daily News, Jewish Holidays, and my (many) faults. I wrote about Alabama, that fat fuck who ran Exxon, ego again, and a Snow job.

I wrote about Mr. T, Myspace, and ego once more. I wrote about my lookalike, and the hot girl with the t-shirts. I wrote about Chris Dodd, Bill Frist, Saddam, and why New York sucks.

I wrote about the Greyhound Bus, Evites, Al Gore, and toilets. I wrote about golddiggers and the Miami Heat. I wrote about the Mets, Star Jones, and greed.

I wrote about Laura Bush, CNN, Tom Delay, identical twins, and NYPD Jew. I wrote about a holy war and Cobra Commander. I wrote about Verizon and Mel Gibson.

I wrote about Joe Lieberman and Ned Lamont. I wrote about Neil Young and Osama Bin Laden. I wrote about Pluto and that hot girl with the t-shirts again. I wrote about betrayal.

I wrote about Uganda and Radical Islam. I wrote about spinach and cut and run. I wrote about Rosh Hashanah and a Texas Jewboy.

I wrote about why I should never go on vacation again and I wrote about the Mets and how they broke my heart. I wrote about Hillary Clinton and Chuck Norris.

I wrote about the election and John Kerry:Nimrod. I wrote about Dick Cheney:Big Game Hunter (again) and Don Rumsfeld. I wrote about bliss and pandering. I wrote about OJ, Dixiecrats, and bestiality. And I wrote about Thanksgiving.

It's been a whole year since I started writing in this space. My readership has ebbed and flowed -- mostly ebbed. Nearly all of you who read this I know, most I know very well. I've gotten good feedback and bad. I've been funny and not funny. I've been intellectual and preachy. I've been smart and pretentious. I've been insightful and obvious.

Unless Paul hits it big and gets me a job with The Daily Show, I'll keep writing, and hopefully I'll crack into 15 hits a day. Thanks for reading.