It's your August Wonkette thank you note OF LOVE!

You've been missing these I reckon.

One of the things y’all liked about Former Wonkette was how I was always sending you THANK YOU NOTES, OF LOVE. Does Josh Marshall send you a thank you note? Does the Washington Post? No. Only me. Because I am the only one with manners.

And then we switched to substack and new subscribers STOPPED getting THANK YOU NOTES, OF LOVE, because there were just too darned many of you. You are legion!

So yes, despite all your mewling and kvetching, the move to substack has been a huge success, at least if you like things like “paying your writers” and “having two months of payroll in the bank if you can even believe that” and also “and the search bar even works.” In fact, for all those years where every month I took a post to BEG YOU to join up or send us money so we would NEVER DIE, whining and crying that if we could go from just half of one percent of our readers supporting us to one percent then we would be living on Easy Street, in the past month we’ve got a twenty percent bump over our previous subscribers.

Sorry to math at you, I don’t mean 20 percent of our readers are now subscribing, I wouldn’t even be writing to you right now because I would be in Bali followed by the Maldives followed by a trip on Elon Musk’s spaceship to the moon, but that there is an extra 20 percent of our half of one percent of our readers supporting us, so like 800 people. Eight hundred people in a month! You like us! Sally Fields dot gif!

We are home from our whirlwind trip to Montana, where we had one of our first Wonkette Meetup and Drinky Things since the pandemic (a friend came to see us in Mackinaw City, Michigan, last week too) and got to kiss half a dozen of our dear terrible ones near their faces.

Here is Donna Rose plus two adorable new friends in the airport where we all sat for 9 hours while United fixed its broken tire and then timed out the flight crew and then got us to Denver at 1:30 am and to Detroit in steerage a full day later, and now it’s two days later and I’m still wrecked. One cool thing: after an hour, the pilot announced we had the right to deplane should we so choose, thanks to Mayor Secretary Pete’s Passenger Bill of Rights. (He didn’t explain it was thanks to Mayor Secretary Pete.) So that’s a fabulous change!

He still needs to Death Penalty United though. Fuck those guys entirely.

One rotten thing: when we went up from Missoula to our old house in the country in Polson, MT, to see our dear old neighbors (the ones who aren’t bigots), we saw a migrant family with a “stranded” sign in front of the Walmart. It was a couple and two small children, 3 and 5, or 4 and 6, and they were trying to get to California since Montana’s cherry season is over, and you know nobody had helped them forever. Montana hates its migrants like crazy. We gave them $20 and then when we were on our way I burst into tears and said we needed to look up bus tickets. If it would be $500 to get them to California, we would have done it with your money. But it was a thousand, and that’s too much. I bet they’d be pretty grateful if Gov. Greg Gianforte would make like a common Greg Abbott and ship them to LA.

Well, that was your thank you note, everybody. Thank you for keeping us going forever. And be ready to host us for us to host you at a Drinky Thing sometime soon.

Thank you for keeping Wonkette going forever. We love you a lot.