Goodbye Dooce
by Scott Hardie on June 27, 2007
Dooce.com has given me a lot of laughs over the years, and it's one of the few weblogs I have made a point to visit every day. But lately I just can't get past how much Heather bashes her husband, and with increasing viciousness. Today's post was the last straw. (I'm intentionally not linking.)
There's clearly a lot of anger being sublimated into the blog, because she can't seem to make any casual mention of the man without a cutting remark. Even the recent post about Father's Day, which contains the only nice thing she's said about him for months, was undercut with nastiness. Go back and read old posts from happier times in their marriage; she pays him emphatic compliments, and when she does joke at his expense you can tell it's affectionate kidding.
I have little taste for women who emasculate their men with jokes (ask the last woman who made fun of me), and when the jokes pass for veiled hostility as they do here, I definitely want no part of them. I don't want to give up on one more blog, but I can't go on reading.
Four Replies to Goodbye Dooce
Lori Lancaster | June 27, 2007
[hidden by author request]
Jackie Mason | June 29, 2007
[hidden by author request]
Anna Gregoline | June 29, 2007
I'm kind of rolling my eyes at her cancer growths. She's had to have several moles removed. No other therapy mentioned, that I've seen. While not the most fun thing (I did it this year), it's not as dramatic as she makes it out to be.
Am I too harsh? I don't know. When you put your life on the internet as a spectacle to make money, I start to feel like I am allowed to be a bit judgmental.
Logical Operator
The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »
Eulogy for Two or Possibly Three Restaurants
Dining in Sarasota at 10:30pm on a Friday night is not the easiest proposition. I took my friends Miah and Ines downtown to the only non-franchise I knew would still be open, an upscale sports-themed bar & grill called Patrick's. I've had fifteen or so great meals there, but not last night. Go »Notes from Milwaukee So Far
Bad flight Friday. Late dinner at the local 24-hour Greek diner, first pasta I've had in a week and so good. Matt thought the waitress was ignoring us; I thought she was attentive. Go »Where the Hell I Have Been All Year, Part I
It's been a long hibernation and I'm ready to come out of the cave and see daylight again. For various reasons, I wouldn't talk about why I wasn't around much, and I didn't enjoy being secretive like that, especially since all three were sources of happiness for me. Anyway, I promised recently that I was about to come out of the closet concerning the three things that have occupied so much of my 2006, and it's time now. Go »The Tiger
This is the second of four weekly blog posts about diagnoses that have completely changed my life since the pandemic started, after The Dragon. Last week, I wrote about my liver disease, which doesn't have any direct, detectable signs. It's not as if I feel any pain in my liver, or that I can sense that it's not working in the same way that I could tell right away if, say, my eyes stopped working or my lungs stopped working. Go »She Can Really Whip a Donkey's Ass with a Belt
I hate the Black-Eyed Peas. You hate the Black-Eyed Peas. But Alanis Morissette really hates the Black-Eyed Peas. Go »
Anna Gregoline | June 27, 2007
I know what you mean. She seems like she needs a meds adjustment, or perhaps a different line of therapy because everything is a complaint, there seems to be no joy at all.
I dislike her for a multitude of reasons, but I used to enjoy her blog - not so much these days.