Ten years ago today, I was still in my 20s, I was living in NYC, my dog didn’t have any grey hair yet, my bloated gut wasn’t as bloated, Brit Brit was married to KFed, Martha Stewart was in the clink, we were sort of a Kim Kartrashian-free world and I started this mess of a blog that is now called Dlisted. Dlisted started out as The D-list and I named it that, because in my mind I was only going to write about has-beens. That idea was flushed down the toilet almost immediately. Back then, I read a lot of Pink Is The New Blog, Page Six Six Six (now PerezHilton.com) and Whatevs.org, and they all inspired me to throw up my own crap on the Internet. I blogged mostly to kill time and I didn’t think that anybody but maybe my friends would read the dumb crap I posted.
I started “The D-list” on Blogger and I had to change the name when I moved to a different platform about a year later, because TheDList.com was taken (and 10 years later, those whores are still sitting on it). When I moved off of Blogger, I couldn’t move my posts over for whatever reason. The old Blogger site is still up and it’s like an abandoned fairground of fuckery covered with broken glass, dirty condoms, overused exclamation points and shattered crack pipes. I read many of my first posts last night and today my face is about as wrinkly as a Shar Pei’s asshole skin from cringing so much. But then again, I cringe when I read stuff I wrote yesterday. If you think I’m being melodramatic as usual and exaggerating about my earlier posts, here’s one of the very, very first things I blogged:
That’s it. Johnny Carson died and my fingers farted up less than 20 words with zero information and a random note about how Courtney Love was in my 2005 death pool. Well, ten years later, Courtney Love, Dlisted and I are still alive!
It’s very, very weird to me that I still get to pull myself out of bed, put on cut-off sweat shorts and type shit about famous messes. It’s even more weird to me that people still read it. And I get to do that because of you hos. Don’t worry, I’m not going to start reciting the lyrics to Bette Midler songs or anything. But I do want to send a thank you balloon bouquet to everyone who has clicked on Dlisted, left a comment, reads this crap and has sent me e-mails, both nice and cunty. I am forever grateful that you choose to waste your time and brain cells on Dlisted. I also want to thank (“What is this? The fucking People’s Choice Awards?” – you) past and current contributors Lahoma, Sweetas, Jack-N-The-Hat, J. Harvey, Megan and my partner in foolery Allison for writing words for Dlisted.
And now that Dlisted is 10 years old, maybe it’ll finally hit puberty and grow the hell up. Not a chance.