An Unironic Snark-Free Appreciation Of You, Our Beloved Terrible Ones


Do you know we love you, Wonkers? Because we do. And not just because you send us all the money all the time, and let us buy Doktor Zoom and Snipy and booze and Obamacare. (It is mostly because you send us money all the time and let us buy Doktor Zoom and Snipy and booze and Obamacare.)

2013 might have been kind of a shit year for our beloved Bamz -- and it was Blanche, it was -- but it was a swell one for your Wonket. We learned how to do some businesslady entrepreneuring things, which is why your homepage currently looks like a hoarder's house of capitalist bullshit, and you hardly ever complain about it at all! We expanded our Media Empire to include, for all your sideboob and Ronan Farrow needs. We job-created. We took many, many vacations business trips and bought you much beer.

And we got to kiss you on your beautiful faces in person, and you liked it.

Every time you comment on a Wonk post, every time you tweeter a story or share it on your myfaceplace, it makes us feel loved. (You should definitely do that more.) Every time you help us #WAR on shitheads like WeaselZippers or Arthur Sullivan -- just kidding Arthur Sullivan, you're cool -- it makes us feel strong, commanding our eeeevil forces like a strong eeeevil lady general with just a flick of our whip.

We love you wholly and deeply, even when you suck, and let's not kid ourselves, you so often do. You are our Wonkers. You are our fambly. And fambly means no one gets left behind.

Rebecca Schoenkopf

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.


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