Monday, January 12, 2009


What's wickedly offensive, mildly retarded and gets you fired from your job?


It's funny because it's true. Actually, it might be more accurate to describe this blog as mildly offensive and wickedly retarded, but regardless of which adverb goes where, the entire notion of said action is completely absurd. I mean, I can think of at least 100, nay, one million more valid reasons they could've canned me for, but my blog? Really?? Don't get me wrong, I can see firing someone for keeping a blog about something truly controversial, such as "The Pro Jihad" or something, but this is "The Anti DC." I mock Crocs here. And while it may be all retardulous all the time, it's hardly controversial. In fact, it's definitional of benign, in my opinion, which makes this first drama of '09 so dang absurd. But, really, isn't that what makes life worth living? The ridiculously absurd? It certainly makes it more entertaining, especially when you're retardulously benign!

Weirdly, however, while jet-setting in the Third World the other week (a.k.a., possibly my last paid vacation ever) I had decided to more or less quit this blog on account that in the past few months, as I have hinted at now and again, e-barfing all over this space has become more of a stress than a joy. But now, after finding out that, indeed, a part of Washington, DC, still can't take a joke and truly hates laughter ("If you ever want to work in this town again, you better shut that bog* down!"), I think fate decided to punch me in the face on this one. Let's just say this is probably the proverbial kick in the tight pants that I needed to get out of not only a blogging rut (which really doesn't matter), but the rut that has become a life of routine (which does matter, at least to me).

As you may have guessed, I've never been a big fan of "stability," as it were. But shambling, on the other hand...well, hello lover!

And now that I know this little endeavor is apparently not as benign as I had originally thought (although it is certainly as retardulous) and important enough to warrant a good old-fashioned pink-slipping, I am newly reinvigorated to reclaim the shambles-ridden, unstable, hobo lifestyle I was meant to have, as well as to rediscover the joy of no-holds-barred blogging (which would be totally badass, except it's, um, blogging, so it's really just dorky). Oh, and maybe get paid for something I'm possibly talented at (and I'm not referring to hooking). But we'll get to that in a bit.

What's really important here is that this almost unbelievable situation I find myself in is the ultimate validation of this blog's very existence; it proves every single one of my theories about DC correct. Mainly, Washington needs to learn how to take a joke, loosen up, laugh at itself, and at the very least understand the concept of satire. And after having several discussions with people in cities all over the globe regarding my fun Friday afternoon, I've come to the conclusion that this situation is uniquely DC, as most people living and working outside of this tooltastic, uptight world of Washington have reacted with just about as much incredulity as I did ("But you blog about Crocs!"), while my friends in DC have noted, "I could see that. It's symptomatic of DC's douche culture, which requires you to present yourself as a two-dimensional douche-bot whose sole priority is to network with other two-dimensional douche-bots to get ahead. And you're a three-dimensional asshole and a poor thespian, so...yeah. Makes sense in this warped world that something as seemingly silly as a blog that mocks Crocs could matter."

Of course it was other three-dimensional assholes (although better thespians) who told me this, which isn't surprising because it seems 3D-assholes often have the most realistic outlooks on life. It comes down to this -- many of us here (or at least a handful) are all just people, not workaholic douche-bots. The difference between me and, say, a person (read: 3D asshole) who succeeds in and can actually enjoy typical DC is probably just our interests, which doesn't make me better or worse than a legitimately content DC employee, but simply different. I'm just not that into DC. I can't stand bureaucracy, I fail at "networking" and I have an extremely low threshold for self-imposed stress. Moreover, I can't pretend to enjoy something or someone that I feel indifferent toward -- a skill that I never found necessary to excel at until I moved here. (But maybe I've just been lucky?)

Whatever it is, this incident has confirmed my suspicion that DC's douche culture looks down upon those of us who dare to publicly espouse our opinions on life that may not be politically correct, which probably explains why bloggers who are evidently more intelligent than I have made sure to remain anonymous.

So why didn't I? Well, not to toot my own horn rape whistle, but I'm proud of the essays I've accumulated on this blog (or at least not completely ashamed of them). As an aspiring writer with few connections in the business, this isn't just a hobby to me, but a gigantic resume (hence my decision to attach my name and visage to this project). It's also somewhat of a running time capsule of my life and, perhaps most importantly, a means to keep me sane in a community I feel largely alien in. And as long as I'm here (although for how long that will be is currently very much up in the proverbial air), I plan on bringing my patented brand of retardulosity to the e-table, unsensored. Think of me as the Thinking Man's Asshole. Hmm. That sounded better in my head...anyway...

Now, I don't expect most Washingtonians to take it (and definitely not to embrace it), but I'll be damned to an eternal life of wearing badly tailored discount polyester suits before I quit this due to someone telling me it's a "bad career move." In my world, which I won't expect anyone outside my head to understand, this is the best career move I could make. This sh*t is just too legit (at least in my twisted, tiny mind), ergo, I shan't quit.

It also helps now that I have 40 more hours a week to make sure whatever I do decide to post here is worth your time to read and, more importantly in the narcissistic world of blogging, worth my time to write.

But I confess, I won't be spending the entirety of those 40 additional hours each week blogging. And not just because that would be extremely pathetic. I also need to make some money (for booze), which is why I'll be starting my word hustle, hard. See, I'd like to get paid to craft words together that don't have to do with things like "the government," "Congress," or some acronym I'll never memorize. Not that I can't, it's just that I'd rather use my hippocampus to memorize more relevant things, such as all the words to Hall & Oates' "Private Eyes" so I can attack that in future karaoke endeavors, which, incidentally, I now have more than enough free time to actually attend!

And speaking of finding other sources of income, I'll pretty much write for food (and booze) at the moment, so if you read this still benign (and retardulous), but apparently rather controversial e-rag on the daily (I'm talking to you Washington Post and Washingtonian, at least according to my brilliant StatCounter) and need someone to wordsmith an article or two together for you, feel more than free to write to me at We can discuss potential projects over a can of hobo beans that I will cook over a garbage-can fire that I light just outside of the double-wide cardboard box that will surely be my home in a couple of months. It'll be like a Parisian sidewalk cafe, except, you know, in the dumpster.

Yet while the economy blows and the chances of me gaining fulltime employment that actually means something to me are slim in the near-term (as is the prospect of me being able to get sick and afford to go to the doctor now), my spirit is surprisingly and rather disturbingly high. It's because I'm still in shock free now. Poor, perhaps, but free from the constraints of a secondhand, neutral-colored cubicle writing about things I have absolutely no passion for and "networking" with people who find me "bitter and frustrated" because I don't fit their description of "serious DC professional." But honestly, if publicly sharing your sense of humor, penchant for creative writing and an opinion outside of the workplace precludes one from that category, then I'll probably never be a serious DC professional. Perhaps, I'll never even work in this town again. Like two ships passing in the night (one outfitted with pleated khaki sails and the other tricked out in Norm Coleman paraphernalia, which is probably even easier to find now considering he was also canned recently -- serendipitous, n'est-ce pas?), I just don't think it was ever really meant to be. And I'm OK with that. In fact, I'm more than OK with that. I'll jump on the Norm Coleman-clad ship, pop on a copy of Christopher Cross's Sailing and keep it Yacht Rock smooth. After all, I already own a pair of Topsiders.

But where the S.S. Norm Coleman will eventually end up is as mysterious as to why not everyone sees the value of having on the payroll an employee whose main talent is cracking rape jokes. However, perhaps the former mystery is better left unsolved because if I did know exactly where the S.S. Norm Coleman would dock, coasting aimlessly through this metaphorical sea of life wouldn't be nearly as exciting. Or as shambley, and we all know how I feel about life's little shambles. (♥♥♥♥♥)

But eff it. Let it be known that this will be the most personal entry I will ever type into this space, meaning anyone who doubted my claims to be composed entirely out of circuitry and wires was right. To my great dismay, I am a real person. A very strange person with a, perhaps, very peculiar set of professional and life goals, but a homo sapien nonetheless. Indeed, I am so homo. But this endeavor was never meant to be a vehicle for this kind of personal discussion, so allow me to continue to do what I apparently do most effectively and alienate humanity.

In fact, to kick off this new era of exciting unknowns and my newly recognized ability to offend to the point of necessary firing, allow me to break open a cheap bottle of e-champagne on the sail-ready dingy that is this blog by serving up my very special brand of humor to my most beloved District of Columbia. I'm sure you'll all just love it.

Knock, knock.

Who's there?


9/11 who?

*Insert awesomely long pause while I morph the expression on my visage into a warped look of horror, or as my buddy Socrates Johnson dubbed it last week, "gang-bang face."*

But you said you'd never forget!


What? Not funny, you say? Hmm...

Watch list for what was that again?


Well, then maybe my company, oops, former company was right. Having an employee on a terrorist watch list probably really is a liability. Well, I'll be damned...

P.S. -- God bless the USA. Take that, terrorist watch list! WHAAAAAT!

*And yes, during the course of my canning, it really was called a "bog." More than once. And that's not hatin', that's appreciatin'. While I certainly won't miss the work, I will definitely miss my coworkers. And the free lunches on Fridays.


Anonymous said...

You got fired for being an asshole.

Shannon said...

Oh, ouch. I'm so sorry. I've always blogged under my real name, and haven't run into trouble for it in years. I just get canned for things like the economy being stupid.

That said, if you need to pick up some temp work to get by, I can make some recommendations. I can also buy you some hobo beans and a beer sometime.

Lemmonex said...

Man alive--this is so fucking disheartening. I have been thinking of dropping my anonymity, but this DEFINITELY makes me rethink it.

Anonymous said...

I think you're my new hero. Seriously, getting shit-canned for rape and cancer jokes (and making fun of this open sore of a city) is infinitely cooler than getting fired for, say, showing up two hours late (on average) and telling your boss he's quite possibly the biggest tool ever to set foot on this planet. In fact, looking back at all the different reasons I've been fired (and there have been MANY), there's no way I could ever hope to make one even begin to sound that cool. Cheers! Good on ya. And if you ever need somebody to sponsor a night of booze, I'm down.

Skywalker said...

I'm sorry you got the boot. That is wrong because I'm sure there are lot more people cheating the system.

Will look out for more posts.

rachaelgking said...

Seriously? SERIOUSLY??!?!

Because of the content???

You have GOT to be effing kidding me. I am so, so sorry. That is the EPITOME of retardulosity.

Wishing you the best, and looking forward to your future posts, what with all the time you'll have to be creative and whatnot...

rachaelgking said...

Also, um, what's your bean situation?

Anonymous said...

NO . Fucking. Way.

im stunned...
but..i am also stocked up on booze....i'll sooo buy the next round kiddo!

FoggyDew said...

That joke? So wrong and so funny.

Getting canned? So not funny. Maybe you can apply for some of the govt's bailout money?

BAD said...

maybe you can get a job writing rape jokes for Al Franken!

Marissa said...

the internet--

That’s what I said!


Eh. I’ve been planning to quit for a while, this way at least I have a good story to tell. I’m good financially for now, but may take you up on that temp work if I’m still around in a couple of months.


It is what it is. Like I said, it’s damn near-perfect for this blog, but yeah, on the whole, it’s pretty depressing…it’s just a blog…

But yeah, if you do decide to attach your name to your e-name, I’d do so with caution.


The thing is, they could’ve fired me months ago for all those other reasons. Weird. But you’re right, this does make for a good story. Did someone say booze?


Don’t be sorry. It is what it is. I’m pumped to write about my time in DC’s unemployment line. Look out for that post!


Yup. And yup. My blog doesn’t exactly scream “serious journalism,” which understandably, I suppose, is what my former place of work is all about. And honestly, while it is a bit ridiculous, I think it is more the culture than my actual workplace that this matters to. I can totally see if some d-bag googled my name at the Department of Whatever and decided that I was not worth talking to. Or something. I don’t know. I don’t get this place.

On the other hand, this is COMPLETE and TOTAL validation.

Oh, and my bean situation is TIGHT.


Yeah. That was pretty much my exact reaction. So many offers of booze! I should get canned more often!


I thought DC would really appreciate that joke.

Not sure about bailout money, but I am curious about trying to get unemployment. If for nothing else, at least to write about the experience…which is sure to be ridiculous.


Wow. That might be the worst rape joke ever and there are some bad ones out there. Like, why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other rape! It doesn’t even make sense…

John Foster said...

Anything that would pull you away from DC at this point would sadden me. I enjoy being e-friends more when the chance of an actual sighting every few months is in the hopper. Drinks are on me oh soooo soon.

Marissa said...


I'll take you up on that. Let's see. I'm free ALL. THE. TIME. Let me know!

Stevious said...

If it's any consolation, some of the least human people I've ever met were when I signed on for unemployment benefit. I'm pretty sure the Govt over here is using the system to road test some kind of weapons-grade fucknuckle and pass them off as civil servants. It'll be hilarious.

Scotus said...

That really sucks, Marissa.

Best of luck finding a new gig, ideally one that's cool with you continuing the blog. D.C. needs you around to keep it in its place, and I need you around for a good laugh on a regular basis.

Righteous (re)Style said...

Sweet! Let's go party. I'll buy. Seriously. Russia House?

Marissa said...


FUCKNUCKLE! That is worthy of a repeat, nay, a three-peat...FUCKNUCKLE! I love your overseas slang!


It's actually not too bad. I've enjoyed this first official day of unemployment. Then again, I'm not yet living in a box...


YAY! Let's do it! When???

Skywalker said...

You are absolutely crazy.

Jon said...

So, I don't come by for a few days and *boom* - all this news.

Sooo...lemme were indeed fired for this blog's content? Is that even valid? Or legal? (Hellooo...ACLU, anyone?!) I need specifics...!

That said, I gots me some beer money too...I hear a theme happy hour...

Laura said...

I think the real issue is... are you coming back to New York now? What's keepin ya in DC now? (Retardspiration?)

Marissa said...


I'll take that as a compliment!


There was something I apparently wrote about coal that was the clincher, but I think the overall feeling was that I wasn't representative of what a proper "DC serious reporter" should ever be. Fair enough, I suppose.

So, when is this happy hour?

elle gee--

You know, I haven't ruled that out, but I am feeling the calling to return to overseas shambling...we'll see!

Jon said...

Coal. Right. (Because I totally see the connection...)

As a regular reader over hea', I truly have no idea where you work. Maybe conceptually, but not literally.

So, who are they to dictate and penalize what you do with your free time? Does not compute...

Cuz, see...I have this blog...

Jon said...

Oh - the HH...anytime!

Marissa said...


I was somewhat of a homeland security/energy reporter for the past nearly two years. I know. I can't really believe it either...I'm way to retarded to write about things like that...

HH it is. I'm now available, like, every day.

maryjanejeff said...

Add me to the list of people who will buy booze and am very sorry to hear about the news. I could understand DHS getting pissed off but I don't think you were working at there so I don't get it at all.

Connie said...

Oh no! You dared to rock the boat? Point out that the boat needed rocking? tch tch!

:-p Their loss! Much better that problems be brought up and out into the light, than swept under a rug. Good luck in your future endeavors.

Freewheel said...

At first I thought you were kidding, but now I see that you're serious. I'm sorry.

I don't know who your employer was, but it sounds like you were working for some kind of publication and your editor/boss didn't know the difference between a blog and a bog. If that was the case, you're better off parting company with them before they go out of business and your former boss checks into a full-time nursing home.

Best wishes to you, and I look forward to following your bog.

Marissa said...


OH GAWD. NO. NO. NO. I did not work at DHS.


DC needs to lighten up for sure. I mean, who knew people took Crocs so damn seriously?!


Eh. I have no hard feelings toward my former workplace. While I think my boss might sorta, kinda hate me now and he definitely sorta, kinda hates this "bog," I think his decision to fire me had more to do with his assumption that if someone at DOE or some energy industry higher-up were to Google my name and come across this little endeavor, I'd no longer be taken seriously as a reporter. And with trade publications, it also seems we're supposed to be butt buddies with these people, so if I crack a joke that's a little too personal (i.e. make fun of their "culture"), I know longer will be accepted in that circle. But that circle is not for me, so, really, this is best case scenario; a good way to get the f*ck out.

Jon said...

Isn't there a freedom of bog issue here too? That's what ticks me off...

I bet there's a 2nd amendment case here, for rilz.

Marissa said...

Isn't the 2nd amendment about bearing arms? I could just be retarded here. Anyway, since I'm friendz with 1,000 lawyers here, they've all been saying the same thing, however, the company is SO SMALL and I was an at-will employee, so...I think the result wouldn't be worth the legal fees. Although I do hope they disclose their (new?) policy re: outside writing to new employees, so at least they know what's what. For me though, since I was on the verge of quittin', I'll take my little severance and run with it, er, pay my rent with it. Or buy a plane ticket to Budapest. Or who knows! Like I said, this is a feeling of freedom I haven't felt in a while. It's nice.

Jon said...

YES! You should be shooting people...

Er, no. First amendment. Sheez.

maryjanejeff said...

I didn't think you worked at DHS. I should have said "if they were a client". It sounds like you're handling this very well either way.

Media Peasant said...

Sorry to hear this "bog" has "bogged" you down.


No, but really, that sucks about your jorb. I love this blog so stick with it, kiddo!

Marissa said...


Well, if I cared more...maybe. I'm more excited about filing for unemployment! More money for not working! Hooray!


I was a reporter at a small trade publishing house. I started writing about homeland security but later was reassigned to nuclear energy. Both equally blew.

media peasant--

Thanks for the pun! And "jorb" = well played!

2b1b: The sardonic voice of 20-somethings everywhere, Monday through Friday. said...

I blogged about my ex-Landlord a few times. I used his real name because, you know, what are the chances of him finding my blog? As it turned out, the chances are good. He found it and threatened to sue me unless I posted an entry about what a wonderful man he is and then deleted the blog all together. I refused. He took me to court. I won. Good gravy. The moral of the story is people are ridiculous and can't handle satire, and I feel for you. Keep writing!
- Meg from 2b1b

Meeg said...

Wow, that is crazy. I've heard stories, but you never think something like that can happen to you. And yes DC is indeed an uptight town with lots of no fun, driven/ambitious people.

Marissa said...


I would love to go to court over this. And then write a Law and Order episode based on my experience. It would be grand, I say, GRAND!


Yeah. It's pretty nuts, but whatever. It's a win for me (in a way), so I'm cool with it.