Damien Galeone

If you are a reader, then you know I have been battering the web for a seeming eternity. You probably don’t know exactly how long since you surely went insane to my blabbering ages ago.

But believe it or not, it’s been 5 years.

To celebrate, my blog and I had a little party. We had cake (read: bourbon). After cake, we decided to revisit some of our most visited and enjoyed posts. We laughed. We cried. We went, “Wow. Why do people like me again?”

Then we revisited some of our earliest posts, just to see how far we’ve come together. That was a tough rock to look under, so we had more cake until the cake was gone and then we went to our local shop and got more (different flavored) cake.

I realized that I have learned a lot in the last 5 years. For example:

People search for insane things

I used to think I was slightly deranged and perverted, but then I started a website and was privy to people’s search phrases.

Japanese girl in wall porn (runner up: Japanese girl in her wall)

Scarlett Johannson Death Mask (Should I call the police?)

Dead Pig Cartoon (I don’t know. Just gave me the willies)

Photo of Me Naked (wondering who  ‘me’ is kept me up for two nights)

I like bologna sandwiches, I like bologna bologna Damien Sandwiches (the sheer volume of disturbing ways to interpret this is boggling)

Collin Popkey (The horror. The horror)

The most disturbing aspect is that these phrases led these people to my blog. So, who’s more disturbed: the one who searches or the guy they found at the end of their search?

Who knows? Probably an FBI hit list.

Nothing can keep Russian spam out of your blog. Nothing.

Nobody who owns a website likes to see Cyrillic letters on their site. Nobody. If you run a website about Russia in Russia, you get nervous when you see Cyrillic letters.

I have seen so many Cyrillic lettering in the last five years that I might be moving towards proficiency in Russian. It’s clear that Russians are the Huns of the internet. You can build up firewalls, actual walls, and techno-defenses, and they’ll be there. The writing on the wall is spam in Cyrillic.

It’s almost commendable. Nazdrovje!

If I think it’s funny, almost nobody else does

This isn’t universally true, but I’m amazed at how often I get cracked up by a joke, line, gag or post and the response is so underwhelming that I am forced to wonder if I am in some sort of joke matrix.

Conversely, sometimes I post something I am lukewarm on and people respond with enthusiasm. If I could figure out the magic elixir, I’d be rich. But not really.

People love reading about crazy families

This is because everyone has a crazy family. A friend and fellow blogger once said, “Each one of your readers should feel like you have written the post just for them.”

And what can people relate to more than crazy families?

Nothing.

Maybe constipation.

On this topic of families, I have to add that my family rocks. They are a genuinely good-natured tribe that makes people laugh because of their humor and quirks. And they have taken their publicity via my blog in damn good stride. Rather than grumble, they laugh, the even encourage it.

It is so cool and so appreciated. That said, don’t be surprised if there’s a post about my family beating me with bags of oranges one day.

The Czechs love reading an outsider’s view of them

And they love it more than beer, Becherovka, and Roman Šebrle rolled into one. (But not Jagr. Nothing trumps Jagr)

In my five years of blogging, a few topics have proved ultra-popular. Cat. Sex. Tinder. English language. But nothing draws more local attention than a post about the Czechs. They have provided so much fodder for this blog that it’s like living in a brainstorming session.

And they like it. The Czechs are yet another group of people who take my humorous jabs with great stride and sense of humor. This is because they enjoy laughing at themselves, and I am hugely appreciative of that.

I don’t think I could be this candid or openly humorous in another culture. Mocking America could lead to a load of reactionary anti-American rhetoric. Mocking France would mean being permanently and passive aggressively damned to day-old baguettes. In Russia I’d disappear without a trace after one post. Better to not think of that. (Nazdrovje!)

Let’s Talk About Sex

Yes.

Everyone wants to.

Even me.

I can’t deny that I am attracted to articles about or skirting the edges of sexy time topics. Weird things that men do to their penises. We need to talk about anal sex.

We do?

OK, I’m in.

There is almost literally nothing I won’t read (or watch) that has the word “lesbian” in its title.

While my blog never gets specific or graphic, I do touch on the topic of sex when I write about dating, Tinder, or relationships. And people love it. Yet I do think that in my case the draw is something like Well, what the hell does this boring university teacher have to say about this?

My final point is that…

My Readers Rock

I know some of you, lots of you. I like to imagine that you are my tribe. We laugh at the same things, we relate to each other. There are some of you I don’t know, and I like to imagine you as a group of loincloth-clad pygmies high in mountain caves with excellent wifi. Or in your mother’s basement.

In any event, I am happy we are in the same tribe.

Without you guys I would be writing poetry for my cat. No joke. If I didn’t get feedback and genuine encouragement in the form of laughs, comments, and shares, I would have stopped blogging four and a half years ago. You guys fucking rock. You are why I do this. You are why I enjoy this. I thank you genuinely for your readership and support.

Please keep reading and enjoying.

And for the love of God, leave Scarlett Johannson alone.