Goodbye My Lovers, Goodbye My Friends
I’m an anxious person. I hem, I haw, I catastrophize, and I loooathe change. I’d rather have my eyes Clockwork Oranged and be made to watch an entire sports match than face the great unknown. So, like many of you, the news that DListed was shutting down totally bummed me out. Truly the end of an era. But, on the plus side, how lucky were we to get to be a part of it? Hell, I still have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that I actually got to write for Michael K.
The moment I saw Michael’s “Writers Wanted” post back in January 2020, I was petrified. I really, really wanted it. And wanting something that badly is scary. My brain said, “You?! Ha. Ya got zero chance, so don’t even bother. Now, let’s smoke weed and watch six hours of Glee. I said NOW, bitch!” For days, I procrastinated writing my sample article about Cameron Diaz naming her newborn daughter “Raddix.” But, eventually, I bit the bullet, did the work, and applied. I got Michael’s “you’re hired” email in the middle of teaching a Level B improv class. I told the students to take a quick break from zip-zap-zipping, ran to the bathroom, and happy-screamed into my sweater. A moment of pure joy. And it would’ve never happened had I not taken a goddamn leap. So, maybe embracing change, facing your fears, “Yes, And-ing,” and all that other corny improv shit is… good? UGH. Maybe. But I’ll still miss DListed.
I began visiting this site in late 2006, during my first year at university. My cousin had recently turned me on to LaineyGossip, and Lainey must’ve linked to one of Michael’s articles. Discovering DListed was like the first time I tried Catalina dressing on taco salad: I was immediately hooked. I can’t count the number of times Michael’s writing made me belly laugh. Even thinking about his tales from the Barbizon School of Modeling… BAAAHAHAHA. It takes an extremely intelligent, imaginative person to be that snarky and laugh-out-loud hilarious without punching down. That’s what makes Michael and DListed so special. I don’t know if he realizes what a massive influence he’s been for so many of us or even how much his writing helped shape my own comedic voice (read: I stole shit like “read:”). An added bonus? He’s just as kind as you want him to be. Michael, thank you for everything. And please don’t delete any of these compliments.
I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone says; I love celebrity gossip. It appeals to the part of me fascinated with whether or not someone is a “good” person. Like, how big is the gap between who these people pretend to be and who they actually are? We’re constantly being fed so much exhausting bullshit; on TV, in magazines, on social media, at work, blah blah blah. And we compare ourselves to it. When the curtain is pulled back, and the fakes, hypocrites, and assholes are exposed? So validating. Like that time Laura Jeanne Poon got arrested and pulled a “Do you know who I am?” Ahhhh, Bellissima! My happy place is sitting on the couch with my husband, Eli, and our son-cat, Bob Sacamano, and psychoanalyzing The Real Housewives and their various undiagnosed personality disorders (this coming from the girl who dropped PSYC100 after the first class cuz the exam was on her birthday).
If you’d like to keep in touch, follow me at @emrich44 on TikTok, Instagram, and Twitter. But, please, be warned: I do comedy. Now that DListed is dunzo, I’ll continue performing live sketch, stand-up, and improv around Toronto, going out for exciting acting roles such as “Distracted Nurse” and “Judgmental Mom,” and applying for writing jobs. Hell, I’ll write anything. Celebrity gossip, reality TV recaps, sketch comedy, personal essays, dirty limericks, tombstone epitaphs, serial killer manifestos, whatever! But what I’d really love is to get into a TV writer’s room. So, if any Hollywood showrunners lurk in the shadows (not you, Sam Levinson), slide into my DMs. I’ll send you my half-hour pilot. And, yes, that is a threat.
XOXO
Emily Richardson
P.S. I don’t know how to use a semicolon properly; I’ve been guessing this entire time.
P.P.S. Fuck it, I’m ordering a large Mint Oreo Blizzard in lieu of a well-balanced, PCOS-friendly dinner. This is a day of mourning, people!
Pic of my first celebrity crush: NBCUniversal