Apr
24th
Thu
24th
Nevermind Tionna
Al heard that I was looking for him and took appropriate measures. Your services are no longer needed.
Again.
Gaby, be a dear and bring me another croissant please.
(Please direct any legal documents to nickguidodenton at gmail dot com)
Apr
22nd
Tue
22nd
They say that a nice, clean tie attracts the soup of the day. I’m hoping for man-chowder.
Another Day, Another Sloane Crosley Book Party
Do I really want to attend another Sloane Crosley circle jerk tonight? Do I really want to have to listen to Jonathan Ames whine about addition and his itchy asshole? Do I really want to listen to A.M. Homes’ incessant droning about how her mother was a slut? Do I really want to listen to Liz Spiers’ pathetic fishing for peer approval of her new gig at Fortune?
NO!
But go I must, if only to secure Sloane’s autograph inside of her painfully mediocre essay collection so that I am assured of one-upping everyone at the next book club gathering. I just hope that Huffington doesn’t fuck me by showing up with an autographed copy of Mein Kampf that she obtained in an Ebay auction. That’d be so like her to do that.
Then again, I can always send Boltlung to the book party and go bowling with the staff instead. Aren’t we competing against Radar tonight? It would be nice to see if Balk can roll better than a 37. I wonder if Neel will be there?
Goddamnit Boltlung!
How many times do I have to tell you that Charmin gives me dingleberries? Quilted Northern Boltlung, Quilted Northern!
My Particularly Vile Employees
I’m more than sure that this is all Jim Lehnhoff puffing away while yapping into his celly coordinating his diaperpail friend activities, but seriously people, what are we, an assembly of dirty Brooklyn hipsters or something?
From: Roxanne Gelfer roxanne@gawker.com>
Date: Tue, Apr 22, 2008 at 1:46 PM
Subject: Attention All Smokers…
To: (redacted)@gawker.com
Hi,
An ash tray has been made available for disposal of cigarette butts on
our ‘smoking roof’!
Please do not discard these butts anywhere but in the receptacle mentioned.
There are quite a bit of cigarette butts all over the roof and
particularly around the drain. Should this drain become clogged then
our neighbors below will have quite a problem.
So lets enjoy our smoking priveleges and keep our ‘butts’ out of trouble.
Thanks,
Roxanne
Let me add to Roxanne’s memo by stating loud and clear: The only clogging/unclogging involving butts that I want going down on that roof are—-oh nevermind.
An Apology E-Mail From Tionna Smalls
Yesterday, I posted this, the highlight of which was the line, “Go shoot yourself and die because no one likes you.”
Today brings an apology from Tionna:
To: nickguidodenton@gmail.com
From: tionnatsmalls@yahoo.com
Subject: Faker!
I didn’t know that you were a fake. I apologize to you and Nick Denton for getting you guys mixed up…
My bad!
Tionna.
Tell you what Tionna, bring me Al Reynolds and all is forgiven.
Apr
21st
Mon
21st
An E-mail From Tionna Smalls
Shortly posting this video on Friday, along with some terse commentary thrown in for good measure, I received the following e-mail from Tionna Smalls:
To: nickguidodenton@gmail.com
From: tionnatsmalls@yahoo.com
Subject: Don’t Get Mad At Me!
Nick,
Don’t Get mad at me because I have a vagina and you don’t. You think I care about what you think about me. I saw your comment about me on your little blog:
“Yes Tionna Smalls, your firing was a direct result of my being “intimidated” by and “jealous” of you. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I mistook you for the large, loud black woman married to the totally not gay Al Reynolds when you were hired, thus crushing my dreams of sneaking off to “smoke a fag” with the dreamy Al at future Gawker parties.”
If you are comparing me to Star Jones then thanks, that’s a freaking compliment because that is one black woman who goes out there and does her thing. She’s more famous than you and probably has more money than you. You are jealous because you can’t bleed once a month and because everyone thinks you’re a pompus asshole. I am not intimidated of you and you are jealous because you could never make me mad like you have done past workers of yours. I didnt even know you existed before I took the job at Gawker so go to hell. You dont want to make this personal because I will rip your whore ass to sheds. I know more about you then you think so play your position, old man and keep boning those male prostitutes you hire. Dont mess with me!
I call it how I see it. You are jealous and I saw how you were looking at me at the Christmas party. You can sit there and make all those college graduates out there think you made their career but not this woman… You didn’t make me. I fell across Gawker because I mistook it for Gotham. Dont get cute because you got lucky… Some of us have to work for ours, others just get it… I am proud that you can put your finger up your ass so you can orgasm and look out the window at your office at the same time. Now cool it.
Go shoot yourself and die because no one likes you.
Love Always,
Tionna Smalls
P.S. I am still talking that ish and what? People ask me about Gawker, I dont tell them about you. Sorry. I know you’re mad this black woman got a chance to be famous from your blog but oh well- shit happens. I still appreciate the opportunity. Another thing, you cant fire someone who works from home and please dont make me go back in my archives and really figure out how much money you owe me Mr. Pay per Click. Play your position, Mr. Denton. You’re not ready for the girls from the ghetto.
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Shah Cypha Album “All or Nothing” Debuts May 6, 2008. Make sure you listen to his new single, “Come With Me Tonight.” Check him out on www.myspace.com/shahcypha.
Talk Dat Ish’s Year Anniversary- 4/30/08
Apr
18th
Fri
18th
It has come to my attention that many of my Gawker media employees are whining that their “fobs” deny them access to the new office outside of the hours of 8AM to 8PM, Monday through Friday. They’re wondering what sort of sordidness might be taking place in the office at night and on the weekends. The truth is simple enough, and that’s that I might just be up there with a few friends playing Ricky Gervais’ Penis Puppet Theatre, “the future of home entertainment.”
The Changing Web 2.0 Cultural Lexicon
Says David Karp: “I can’t believe Scott Kidder was the first person to use my new toilet…”
Is that what the kids are calling it these days? I feel so old! Boltlung, you’re supposed to be keeping me abreast of these things!
Damn you Scott Kidder! All this time I was hoping to make David Karp my replacement for Ricky Van Veen. You’ve ruined him for me!
Yes Tionna Smalls, your firing was a direct result of my being “intimidated” by and “jealous” of you. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I mistook you for the large, loud black woman married to the totally not gay Al Reynolds when you were hired, thus crushing my dreams of sneaking off to “smoke a fag” with the dreamy Al at future Gawker parties.
Apr
16th
Wed
16th
Trying to decide whether Blakeley looks more like he wants to eat or fuck Julia Allison and Owen Thomas is making my freakishly mastodonic head spin.
Perhaps he wants to eat and fuck them?
Apr
15th
Tue
15th
An E-Mail Exchange With Richard Lawson
From: am.lawson@gmail.com
To: nickguidodenton@gmail.com
Subject: I need to get this off my chest…
Mr. D-I go to bed every night thinking about you. I have an empty desk right next to me, and I’d love nothing more than to have you sitting right next to me. Why must there be so much distance between us??? Don’t run from your feelings! You know that what we could have would be absolutely wonderful. I know you pulled me off of sales just so we can be closer. ;)
From: nickguidodenton@gmail.com
To: am.lawson@gmail.com
The building anticipation from having me haunt your dreams for a while will only make our future lovemaking all the better. So chill the fuck out.XO,
N
From: am.lawson@gmail.com
To: nickguidodenton@gmail.com
WTF???
From: nickguidodenton@gmail.com
To: am.lawson@gmail.com
Look, it’s never going to happen between you and I, okay? I’m into the Blacks and the unattainably straight, young, faux-hipster types who run sophomoric websites for frat boys. And you’re so not black or unattainably straight. Now, please don’t cry at your new workstation. Your tears might stain the finish.
Caroline Bankoff
Please stop sending nude photos of yourself to my email in a desperate plea for attention. I’m gay. Have you not heard?
Additionally, please direct any future correspondence to boltlung@gawker.com. He’s my filter and might appreciate your assets a bit more than I do.
Memo to Boltlung Iron: You see how my former chief doppelganger Lockhart is in the background not paying attention to a fucking word of whatever nonsense is spewing forth from Mohney’s pie-hole? What he’s doing is making a mental note as a reminder that as soon as “The Host” releases me from her diseased clutches, that he is to scurry over immediately and initiate a thorough de-lousing of my person.
That’s the sort of thing I need you to do. Make a note.