I’ve met a lot of nice people on the Interchunnel. I’ve actually only met a few of them in person, but that’s the beauty of the thing. It keeps you in touch with the far-flung, even if they were far-flung before you knew them.
It’s really presumptuous of me to say, but the Bird Dog from the excellent Maggie’s Farm is one of my best friends. I doubt he’d say that in return, because he barely knows me and if he knew me better he wouldn’t even like me much; but the beauty of blogging is you can write what you like and then turn this damnable silicon box off and not hear yourself being contradicted. It’s like inscribing your own stone tablets and then breaking them right away. So Bird Dog’s my best friend, and someone tell Tom Brady’s wife to stop calling me, because it ain’t gonna happen. Click.
Bird Dog is profiled on Normblog, which is like an Internet Mount Rushmore, only more crowded and made from chewing gum from under a grade school cafeteria table, not granite. He deserves all such encomiums, and several other words I don’t really understand but can find in the thesaurus. He really is a most excellent fellow.