Hello. My name is Sara Benincasa. I am an author of books and a comedian of comedies. I live in Los Angeles. I have been an occasional contributor to yr Wonkette since 2010, when foolish Ken Layne let me write a kolumn called "Barry Can You Hear Me?" I've been a reader and commenter since around 2006. Yr Wonkette herself asked me to write a thing about the 10th anniversary of this website, and so I am indulging in nostalgia as I sit on my couch with no pants, exactly as the Lord Gawd Obamarrrr11!!1 intended. And just as Proust had his madeleines, I have my Sauza tequila and Jose Cuervo margarita mix, which I shall consume in great quantities as I proceed down memory lane.
First of all, fuck you for even reading this website, which is about as reliable a news and commentary source as the Protocols of the Elders of Zion and, as an added bonus, is run by the Illuminati (Rebecca Schoenkopf is Jay-Z AND Beyonce all at once). You have chosen to waste your time with godless filth-mongering and for this the world hates you, as it should.
Now, it is a truth widely acknowledged that the Wonkette readership is a hellpit of weeping sores on the distended "pink sock" anus of Satan himself. I should know. I once was one of you. I remain one of you today, though mostly I lurk in between writing my humorless screeds for feminist killjoy factory Jezebel (as well as young adult books for yr teens! Hooray!).
But here is a thing that is true: Wonkette has helped yr authoress through many a boring, dispirited time in her life, and perhaps has done the same for you. And I will submit that Wonkette saves lives. For real. I'm not kidding. I think this website and its foul, obscenity-laced liberal reactionary content has the potential to give people hope and happiness and humor and other good things that start with h, like apparel from Helly Hansen and also handjobs. Here is why.
Do you live in a town called Most of America where everyone is all, "Let's buy a gun for Christmas for our child because that is a good thing to do and also we are stupid because no one has ever shown us art or books or the dickshunary and even if they did we would reject it as Satanic and the only things to do in our town are go to Wal-Mart and Applebees"? Perhaps your family also says these things? Maybe you are the weird one with the big ideas about freedom of speech and freedom of sexuality and freedom of creativity and freedom to pray to Mother Earth Gaia and not believe in a magickal zombie who lives in the sky and metes out money and favors and death based on His whims. Maybe you are a geigh. Maybe you are a bi. Maybe you are a different gender on the inside than the naughty bits with which you were born. Maybe you do not have enough money to go to fancy places and control political parties through major donations. Maybe you are strange and unusual and maybe you are lonely because no one seems to "get" you. Maybe you love politics and everyone in your family thinks your brother-in-law is way cooler than you because he can fart real loud on command while watching his duck-murder Klan show.
And/or maybe you've got a dumb job that bores the shit out of you and isn't good enough for you and it sucks out your soul-meat and you know you're meant for bigger and better things, but you've got to pay the dang bills and you've got a family or cats to support and the one thing that really gets you through your day isn't kitten videos (no dis) or interminable listicles about bullshit (major dis) but the hilarious, snort-inducing stuff you find on Wonkette. Maybe you delight in reading particular commenters' contributions to this site. Maybe you fap for Doktor Zoom (it could happen!) or Rebecca's bewbs (o noez objectificationz!).
Maybe, just maybe, this weird website and its weird ads and its weird writers make you feel less alone in this world. Maybe you've found a place where you can hang out and feel like a Normal for once in your oddball life. Maybe you regard Wonkette as one might regard an old, reliable, and insanely funny friend with a big, loving heart underneath all the (let's face it) oft-drunken bluster.
Wonkette is smart and funny and biting and inappropriate and wild and extreme and deeply perverse and I fucking love it. I just donated $100 because I've been enjoying the site for free for 8 years and Rebecca needs thong underpants. I highly recommend you do the same. Or, better yet, subscribe to this motherfucker for $1 a month. It's a fucking dollar. What the fuck else are you going to do with that dollar, use it to snort the Michael Co-Caine you use to deal with the aforementioned shitty job and shitty hometown?
It is an honor to write for this site (when I actually get my ass in gear to write for it). It is an honor to have made pretend as Michele Bachmann in videos for this site. It is an honor to have trolled the foxy and far-more-successful-than-I Maureen Dowd for this site. It is an honor to have incessantly hit on various White House employees (especially Barry O) for this site. It is an honor to be associated with this site in any way, and I am enormously proud of said association. We do disgusting work, and it's good work, and I daresay it's necessary. Important. Vital, even. The jester gets to say things to the king that no one else is allowed to utter. We speak truth to power here, and occasionally, power hears us (or so the drunk 3 a.m. emails from various D.C. types have led me to believe).
Now fuck off and go back to fapping over Joe Biden. I'll be right there with you.
Yay!
Sara B. has already gotten far more comments than any of the other Ex-ers so that says something.