Gawker
Brace yourselves, because here comes the sincere part. I've no idea what to say, actually. Let's be honest: I'm pretty choked up right now and I have no business writing this site if all I'm going to do is blubber at my keyboard. One of the worst things about working from home is that I'm all alone, and there's nobody around to smack me. Or pour me drinks.
I didn't prepare a speech! Let me take out my notes: This has been both the most exhilarating and weird experience of my life, and I wouldn't take back any of it. Thanks to Jesse Oxfeld for being by my side for a big chunk of it, to Lockhart Steele for always hearing what I'm saying, to Nick Denton for encouraging and financing my insolence, and to Choire Sicha for rescuing me from journalism school. (Oh my God, could you imagine me at Columbia? They would've made me wear a helmet!) Big thanks, also, to Chris Mohney and Alex Balk, who've had the unique misfortune of dealing with me these past few weeks. This bitch now rests in their calloused, capable hands. And, as one is wont to do in these situations, I tip my 40 to every single one of you who reads this godforsaken thing. This may be the most earnest thing I ever write, but there's no way in hell the site would work if you weren't there. You're wankers, but really important wankers. Even you, Robert Joseph at Earthlink, who has sent me consistent hatemail for two years straight. You, sir, have been impressive.
I guess that's it. I was going to make this final post one of atonement, writing amusing individual apologies to all the people who I've pissed off, but you know what? I'm not sorry. At all. It was fun!
—Jessica
Comments
HOLLA!!!
Godspeed. Rock on.
As I said, Namaste.
Good thing you work from home, otherwise Denton would have hired a security guard to make you clear out your desk with 2 minutes warning.
Bon Voyage!
A squirrel driving a car!!
And who will I fantasize about writing in her PJs now?
And what nojo said. Seriously, I'll miss ya. Do good stuff.
Did you ever know that your my hero? You're everything I wished I could be...!
Balk works naked.
Again, your replacement better be brilliant. Or actually Grove, JPS, or Crazy UsWeekly Guy. Good luck!
Except that even when Balk's naked, it looks like he's wearing a sweater.
'twas a pleasure being at your service. congrats on a job well done. or at least medium well. but utterly, totally amusing nonetheless.
good luck!
As I was reading this, the song '(I've Had) The Time of My Life' from Dirty Dancing was playing in my head.
I'm going to miss you so much.
Best of luck!
You will be missed.
Thanks for your excellence.
As I've said, Vanity Fair is lucky to have you. Be well, no strangerness from you and thanks for all the fish!
So this wasn't a joke?
Damn.
All the best.
You're going to make Conde Nast a better place.
Good luck, and I look forward to reading Vanity Fair's "The Kicker"
Cheers!
Pardon the maudlin sentiment, but I better let the link do the saying...
http://pspmedia.ign.com/psp/image/DontYouForgetAboutMe_Bre...
Us lowly fashion bloggers will miss you! Enjoy the cafeteria. The fajitas are especially good, also the mini bagels they have for breakfast. mmmmmmmmm. Because eating a whole bagel isn't something a Nasty would ever do. Wow, you are a Nasty now. This is going to be weird.
Okay, now the serious one. Back in my own J-school days, I always said that the real education I got was at the student daily. Nothing beats writing on deadline, for a real audience -- and hearing back from angry sources. I don't care what Columbia offers, they can't match everything you've learned from two years on the treadmill. You'll do well, go far, and have a blast. Many happy adventures!
Good luck. In honor of your passing on to the next life, I will mourn by maintaining commenting silence for one week ... or until one of your replacements forgets he's blogging at Gawker and not at fricking DailyKos.
(Oh, my little inner George W. Bush would say bye, too, but his English isn't so good and it always comes off as smirky.)
Good luck. This thing is going down in flames on Monday.
This whole thing went down in flames when Spiers left. Too late.
Jessica..take SpecialK with you?
Well-played, Jess. Thanks for making me laugh every day these last few years. It's been a true joy reading your writing, and I look forward to reading you for years to come. Our little girl's all blown up!
Lefty,
I asked already. She said no. By the way, shouldn't you be shouting someone down or rushing a stage at Columbia or something?
Graydon Carter walks into the Conde Naste cafeteria every morning and spits in the oatmeal. Don't eat the Conde Nast oatmeal. Is it too late to ask if you'll post a naked pic on the blog?
Stay the course, K.
Ciao Jess.
Sigh. I am observing a moment of silence in between bong hits to mark this sad occasion. For real...you will be missed.
And to think I knew her back when she was Jessica Blueprint, adorable Fox wage slave.
Congrats, Jess. Won't be the same around the Empire without you.
Aloha 'oe
Bye Jess...
*sob*
Does Balk really work naked? Because this whole sayin' goodbye thing is making me kind of hot.
Luv Ya. Mean it.
good luck! you'll probably get better coke at conde nast. I console myself with that.
well get used to the champagne, sister. i hear they douche with it at conde.
Best. Writer. Ever.
You rule, Jessica.
I'm making "wanker, but really important wanker" into a banner ad so we can all put it on our blogs in your memory.
Have more kittens and unicorns.
Damn, you weren't fucking with us. Let us know if the skinny mirrors rumor are true!
Jessica--you taught me how to snark; you taught me how to love. Good night and good luck, girl.
If at least one of us escaped the mean streets of Detroit (or thereabouts) -- I'm glad it was you.
Is it just me or did the first pass of "pretty choked up" read as "pretty coked up"? I'm gonna need to be to get over this shit.
Outsie.
Godspeed, Jess. You made Gawker the dirty, snarking, sadistic she-whore that we know and love.
Is it too late to ask you to "reconsider"? No, really.
Love you, etc. No sarcasm...
I'll use an example in order to tackle Ray's comment, which states you escaped the "Mean streets of Detroit".
Tiger = Mean streets of Detroit
Kitty = Soooo not mean streets of Suburbia
Vastly different worlds. We'll let your choice of picture speak to the truth of whence you came (or thereabouts).
Even so, I'll miss you. You made me laugh daily.
You'll be missed. Your twatishness shan't be forgotten nor surpassed anytime soon.
thanks for the laughs, and for giving my offensive ass an invite back when it actually meant something. good luck, have fun, and try to put at least 5% of your income into some sort of tax-advantaged retirement account.
wanker banners are up, for those who wish to mourn Black Friday in Technicolor.
Ms. Big Stuff,
If you need an intern or someone to do your plate-staring for you while at VF, Holla atcha girl.
You did something amazing here and now you're gonna do something amazing there. They're very lucky. I hope they're grateful.
They don't deserve you, but neither do we, apparently. The Best to you.
*sniff* My Simchas Torah has a little less simcha.
Yasher koach, my acerbic, asperitous, sweet, spicy malka.
Jessica - we'll be where you are. I raise my glass to your being in a cool place with more money, better perks, and really gabby people. In the meantime, take a well deserved vaca.
It's a good thing you didn't apologize to everyone - because first, that would have been a really long post and we would have been bored, and second, because you just shouldn't apologize for any of it.
Good luck with your next gig!
Wait a second - Lockhart Steele is a real person?
Reading this is like the end of Six Feet Under.
I don't know about nothin', but we here in Cincinnati are going wherever you do.
Of course, we'll stay at Gawker, at least as long it takes for them to become a mannish ew-site for good.