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Late Nite FDL: Shiny Happy Happiness


Oops.  Sorry kids.  The Powers that Be (i.e., Christy, shhhhh!) have informed me that their day has been hard enough zapping the millions of rightard trolls that have come streaming through the worm-hole opened by Michelle MalKKKin’s desperate attempt to smear us today.  My Malkin post was considered to be something akin to pouring gasoline on a fire that was already starting to catch the drapes, so in the interest of Redd not having to spend her whole day tomorrow dealing with screaming morons from the Other Side, we’re going to let that one sit backstage, possibly until a later date.

In the meantime, I want to thank you all profusely for the support you showed during last night’s "Send a TRex to Camp" Pledge Drive.  As the donations started coming in, I told myself that I would be sending each and every donor a personal note to thank them.  But then they just kept coming.  And coming.  More and more.  It was like the letters from Hogwarts that came pouring in through the mail slot and the chimney in the first Harry Potter.  You guys have blown me away with your generosity.  I am forever in your debt, and I am going to work my ass off in CT to be worthy of the love and support you have shown me.

This is the best community on the web.  I spent most of the morning on the phone to My Wise Friend trying to make sense of it.

Rex: I feel, I feel…

Friend: Like you’re not worthy of this kind of love?

Rex: No, I feel like I’m going to hurl.

Friend: Why?

Rex: I dunno.  What if I disappoint them?  What if I’m really a fraud and they find out?  This is too much.  I can’t accept all this.

Friend: Your low-self-esteem thing gets really old, sometimes, you know?  Especially to be as grandiose as you are the rest of the time.

Rex: I resemble that remark.  Oh, God, my stomach…

Friend: It’s going to be alright.  You’re going to have a good time.

Rex: If I can keep from heinously embarrassing myself.  You know, the last leg of that flight is on a little prop plane.  I heard Democrats should avoid little planes.  What if it crashes and I die?  What will happen to Gus and Juan?

Friend: If you keep this up, I’m hanging up on you.

And so forth and so on.

Seriously, though, you guys rock.  I’ve got enough put by now to go up there in serious style.  Heh.  And then some.  I just can’t fathom that anyone would want to be so sweet to me when they don’t even know me except through my writing.  Of course, Wise Friend says that my writing is the best way to get to know me, so maybe y’all are on to something.

Anyway, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.  I will be trying to write to as many of you as I can, but it may take until Christmas.  I will do everything I can to not let you down.  Thanks for believing in me.


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TRex is a 60-million-year-old theropod who enjoys terrorizing trailer parks, stomping his enemies, and eating things that get in his way or annoy him. He is single and looking for a new boyfriend. He's 60 feet tall, green, with delicate forelimbs, large, sharp teeth, and a lengthy tail. Turn-ons include political activism, bashing conservatives, and volcanoes. Turn-offs are vegetarians, right-wing blogs, and killer asteroids.