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Season 9: Going Forward!
We’re back!
We’re back for Season Nine! There wasn’t a Season Seven, and Season Eight only had two episodes, or “posts” [blogging term], but by Godfrey, we’re back once again — for Season Nine.
Ya ever notice how everything has “seasons” now? What’s the deal with that? Podcasts now have “seasons.” Oh, don’t get me started on podcasts! Don’t get me started on podcasts — right? YouTube channels have “seasons.” YouTube channels! You’re a YouTube channel — how do you have a season? Aaah—!
Look, if those people can justify dividing their “creative” (and I use that term generously!) output into little subsets, arbitrarily parsing out said units in a piecemeal fashion over specific divisions of time — for no good reason, mind you! — and then go on a “scheduled” hiatus, pretentiously calling the result “seasons,” then, dad-blast-it!, so can I.
Anyway, thanks for giving us a Season Nine! Whooooo! Season Nine!
We couldn’t have done it without your support! You fans are amazing. You’re amazing! You’re brilliant. And those of you who cis-dentify as female? You’re fierce. (You love self-describing as “fierce,” right? That’s like your thing, right? “Fierce!” Rrowr! Good for you. You don’t ever have to feel less-than if you’re fierce! I may put that one on a throw pillow.)
That coordinated social media campaign and petition you folks grass-rooted for me really did the trick! And sending all those bottles of rancid olive oil and vinegar (a reference to fan-favorite episode “The One With The Bottles of Crap I Keep Seeing in Thrift Stores,” Season 2, Episode 7, 4/16/12) to the executives at the network, or as I like to call it, website hosting company, was the icing on the cake! Well, not so much the icing. More like the rancid olive oil and vinegar on the cake.
——Rancid olive oil and vinegar on the cake?! Wow, flashback to my sixth birthday party, where Nana Parsnips already had her plate full with early-onset Old Timer’s, clinical term, yet was still put in charge of refreshments.
Anyway! Much like the later seasons of a once-beloved show, especially after a long hiatus, or after it gets canceled and then picked up some time later for “first-run syndication,” it’s never quite the same, is it?
And neither will this be. One of the biggest changes is that you’ll notice that Mabel King will no longer be appearing on my blog as Mama. She’s doing well, and we wish her the best, but she opted not to return. “Creative differences,” she tells us. She opted not to return, citing “creative differences,” sure! She didn’t like the direction the blog was going in. [And here I rub my thumb across my curled index finger on my closed fist, as though indicating it was a matter of money.]
We wish her well.
But you may notice the tone may be a bit different now — a little more sensitive, a little more “awake” as you kids like to say, and, welp, a little more bespoke, as you kids who like borrowing terms and phrases from the British, wot!, without knowing what they bloody mean, also like to say.
And that difference in tone? It’s because I’m not drinking.
Oh no, hold your applause, hold your accolades — I’m not drinking right now, writing this, right now, but brother, hoo-boy, you’ll know when I am. Those have always been the fun posts to read! Or at least write!
And you may notice some other changes. First of all, all of the posts have been spaced, what, six feet apart. For the time being, I’ll be blogging for you outside under a canopy. You in turn will be required to read these out-of-doors or order them for takeout. Or, if you haven’t signed up with BlogHub or BlogDash or any of the other blog delivery apps, new posts will be available for curbside pickup. (Just call ahead!)
We’re following federal, state and local protocols on this, but it’s important to realize that it’s for your safety. To that end, we’re keeping an empty middle seat until November 30. This is just one of the many things we’re doing to ensure your health and piece of mind, and also, just one of the many examples that will make absolutely no sense six months from now. Hopefully.
We’ve disabled the comments, because they were too difficult to sanitize. Similarly, we’ve had to close the restrooms temporarily, so you probably should bring an empty Powerade jug [above] with you if you plan on spending any time on this site (and judging by Google Analytics, this only would affect 0.0000746% of the, what, six visitors we get here per month, and of that 0.0000746%, you tend to stay roughly 0.218 seconds, or the amount of time it takes you to realize your mistake in coming here and hit the back button on your browser. Still: It’s good to be prepared.)
{Wow, I still love the impossible-to-follow, over-punctuated, obsessed-with-hyphens, run-on sentences, though, don’t I?}
Now, there’s been a run on some of the topics I cover, so to be fair to everyone, we’ve had to put a limit (2) on the number of posts about delightfully weird and delicious food that I find in dollar stores…
…that you’ll be allowed to read. Know this: Our factories are up and running and we hope to get more of these posts to you soon. We don’t anticipate any long term issues with our supply chain, so, going forward, we’re going to meet the moment and be mindful about making these blog posts available to everyone.
Furthermore, we listened. We listened.
We’ve taken down the statue of General Pavel “Old Kielbasa” Andrusko, the only Slovak who fought for the South in the Civil War, that used to grace the courtyard, out by the reflecting pool. (Located just north of the April 2013 archives. Or it used to be.) We understand that making references to swarthy Slovaks might seem harmless to the swarthy Slovak writing this, but that there’s a history of systemic swarthiness associated with Slovaks and Going Forward, we felt it was important to reflect, promote and evolve significantly sensitive engagement in our ongoing efforts to promote responsibly incoherent combinations of meaningless buzzwords.
To that end, only posts mentioning swarthy Slovaks will be written by swarthy Slovaks, and if a reference is made to, say, a creamy Ruritanian with skin like alabaster, all efforts will be made to locate such a person to type up that particular post. It’s only right.
[In his defense, though, Great-Great Grand Uncle Pavel thought he signed up for the other side. He couldn’t read or write a lick of American when he stepped off the plane. …Okay, when he slid down out of the wheel well where he had stowed away.]
Back to more important matters. We’re defunding [popular concept] the web design team after a number of complaints about them, all from me. So in the future, Going Forward, if there’s a problem with the website, we’ll be dispatching a team of unarmed social workers to see just what in God’s name I did this time to screw up the site. These people will be specially trained to handle my mostly non-violent mental health crises that arise when once again I start babbling about “using up all my webspace for photos” or making other odd references that may or may not be inside jokes to 1/6 of my regular readers.
Furthermore, while many of you will remember fondly this site as MrsBigChiefUncleEskimima[dot]com, we recognize the inequities that were associated with the name of this blog, and Going Forward, after extensive research, we’ve discovered the most inoffensive first name and the most innocuous vegetable and we’ve re-branded as the completely irreproachably named TedParsnips[dot]com. Going Forward.
Finally, we understand that gender is a societal construct and we will no longer be using binary pronouns. We are in the process of changing, or transitioning every pronoun in older posts to the accepted “they.” Please bear with they as they make these changes.
Thank they for sticking with they and reading TedParsnips 2.0, Season 9!
…Did I miss anything?
Ooh! Pardon! Did they miss anything?
Ted Parsnips
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