“10 Years a Blogger” (which seemed like a catchy title when I first thought of it, but then I realized that’s because it’s reminiscent of “12 Years a Slave” … which I never saw, but I assume it’s about slavery … and, other than the pay, blogging has nothing in common with slavery … the latter of which is neither a funny topic, nor anything to make light of … and I should probably just stop talking now)

Evan's 10th Birthday Cake

Instead of “Evan,” let’s pretend it says “Daddy Scratches” … because I have no idea who Evan is … and even if I did, this post has nothing to do with him. (Also: Thank you, flickr user backyardbirderwa, for photographing this cake.)

3 … 2 … 1 … Happy New Year!

What’s that? It’s January 7th? Damn. I guess I fucked that one up. But, hey, anyway:

Happy Belated New Year! And also? Happy Birthday to this blog!

It’s hard to believe that 10 years have passed since I first launched my blog back on January 1st of 2006. Yes, that’s right: I’ve been blogging for a whole decade … which is either impressive … or sad … or both. Whatever the case, it goes without saying that the Internet is abuzz with the news of this important anniversary.

[cricket sounds]

OK, not so much. But, hey, anyway:

I’m still here! Like a blog cockroach! A blogroach, if you will!

Of course, the biggest blogging development in my life this year was my decision to largely remove from this blog the many pictures of, and stories about, my children that I’d posted during the past decade. Like, almost 500 posts containing roughly a bazillion-and-a-half pictures. Basically, I gutted the place. It was a tough decision, but one that I feel was for the best. For my kids, that is. Not for me. The best decision for me would have been to exploit the hell out of them for my own personal gain, with neither their knowledge nor consent. (I think we can all agree that my choosing not to do so pretty much makes me Father of the Year.)

Nonetheless, I still feel like I have more stories to tell, and I still feel like telling some of them here when I can, so the blog lives on.

The stories I don’t feel like telling here are the ones that for years I’ve been holding back with the intention of instead telling them in book form. With that in mind, I’m pleased to report that 2015 was the year when I finally started working on that memoir I keep threatening to write. (In far less exciting news: I’ve only written about 2,000 words so far. Just need about 88,000 more. But, hey: it’s a start, right?)


(I’m going to assume you said “Right!” So thanks for that.)

Alrighty, then. Let’s all go kick some serious ass in 2016, shall we? Happy New Year.

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