A Christmas Miracle!
All over the internet, in the year of our baby savior 2019, our sister and brother progressive websites have been shutting their asses down. But thanks to you, Wonkette is growing instead, like ... the oil? Or water to wine? I don't know, I'm very confused. Regardless, starting in just a week, we'll be joined full-time by Robyn and SER, so I -- you -- can pay them an actual living wage plus healthcare instead of freelance bullshit.
My heart, she sings! Mele Kelikimaka, or maybe War Pigs.
This isn't a moneybeg post -- though feel free, as always, to money us. It's just the briefest note to say again how thankful I am to have some thousands of you every month who keep us going and now growing, a community-funded labor of love, and hundreds who write in to whisper sweet nothings of sexxx words. (Please don't whisper me actual sexxx words. Just telling me I'm smart and pretty? It would have been enough.)
I am thankful for you every day, even the terrible days dripping in hot liquid shit, of which there were fewer this year than the previous two. See, I am a person whose glass is only half full (of hot liquid shit). It's all about having a good outlook. (Through the shit-covered glasses.)
Yesterday, my good husband, whom I met on this very website, baked four kinds of cookies and two kinds of fudge, plus the little pretzel chocolate reindeers.
And you guys aren't going to believe this, but he cleaned as he went.
Then Donna Rose asked me to come upstairs and watch her waterskate. I was extremely busy lying on the couch and looking at hotel rooms in Mexico, so it wasn't until the water on the bathroom floor leaked down through the ceiling, made an impressively ginormous water pimple, and burst all over the factory that I realized I should have come upstairs immediately to compliment her creative brain, and maybe shut off the spigot.
Pay attention to your children if you can, especially when they want to show you something. Kiss your handsome husbands if you've got them. Do a kindness for a person, even just a small one. And it doesn't even have to be us!
(But, as always, it could.)
We'll see you bright and early Thursday morning, darlings, except for Evan, who has a habit of taking the vacation days I owe him.
To all our health! And to all my friends: BEEEEHAVE YOURSELVES! Jesus is coming.
Rebecca Schoenkopf is the owner, publisher, and editrix of Wonkette. She is a nice lady, SHUT UP YUH HUH. She is very tired with this fucking nonsense all of the time, and it would be terrific if you sent money to keep this bitch afloat. She is on maternity leave until 2033.