Oh yeah, and John Madden retired (should’ve been you, Kornheiser). BUT WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH WITH MEMEME!?

Well, here’s a familiar photo. It was just 10 months ago that I was fired from The Washington Post for posting this here picture and boasting of being drunk while watching Super Bowl XL in a bar in my free time. But, hey, now I get to write about football-related dick jokes from home as a job now.

Will Leitch has already detailed how he dreamt at age 11 of Matt Leinart or some other left-handed QB winning the Cardinals a Super Bowl. Can’t say I’ve always had the same visions for my team this year, but I’d like to think the football gods smiled upon me for my blog martyrdom BECAUSE IT’S ALL ABOUT ME ME ME though probably not. I, unlike Leitch, can’t claim to have seen this Super Bowl coming for Pittsburgh, what with an impossible-looking schedule, Bruce Arians and a sieve of an offensive line. Yet here we are.

This summer I was told by Daulerio that I’d become Deadspin’s roving correspondent, which would include covering the Super Bowl for them. In the time since, Gawker had been cutting budget for months, so it seemed less and less likely that I would be going to Tampa. The definitive news came down from Daulerio at the beginning of January, so it was then that I figured the Steelers pretty much had to go. Just to fuck me over.

The rest of the Gay Mafia will get you through the big day. I, meanwhile, will be at the same place I was when watching Super Bowl XL. Whether the parrot shows for more pics I can’t be sure. Either way, I’ll be back this evening to mock the Steelers haters until my typing fingers are sore if the team wins or subject myself to your unstinting collective ridicule if they lose. Should be fun.

An apology to our regular readers. I don’t want to make this whole situation anymore protracted than it need be. But I feel the need to respond to a few things.

First: that my getting fired from The Post was some sort of publicity stunt. It was not. While it is true that I was interested in leaving my job, I had applied to other positions within The Post and was not interested in being fired.

My intention for revealing my identity touched upon something the newspaper, all newspapers, hold dear: full disclosure. A lot of KSK’s content involves taking shots at other writers (Bill Simmons, Peter King, Tony Kornheiser, Michael Wilbon, etc.) and doing so anonymously is all well and good until you build a considerable audience and start getting paid to do it.

Second: this story from Editor & Publisher, which takes pains to detail The Post’s position on employee conduct, but notes at the end that I could not be reached for comment. I could not be reached because no attempt was made to contact me.

I sent this e-mail to the writer, Joe Strupp:

“Mr. Strupp:

This is journalism at its laziest and it’s a testament to why I’m glad to be out of that profession.”

He replied:

“My apologies, I did not see an e-mail on your blog, but my mistake. I also tried to find a home number, but could not. Post folks would not give your number.

If you want to offer comment, I may be able to add it in.”

I appreciate the apology. But even if he is able to add my comments to the story, the majority of the people who are going to read it already have, so here are my comments in full:

“There was no conflict of interest between my writing for Kissing Suzy Kolber and my work for The Washington Post. The blog is not a journalistic endeavor and it is not something I was paid for until I revealed my identity. It is a humor blog about the NFL, whereas my job for the paper was to cover local news in a suburban county outside Washington, D.C. It is beat that has nothing to do with a professional football league.

I also find it troubling that I was summarily fired for engaging in something that is core to the spirit of The Washington Post: full disclosure. Even if editors had a problem with the language used in the blog, they should have been able to respect that my goal was not to defame The Post, but to be forthcoming with my readers.”

There you have it.

Again, sorry regular readers. The Romenesko crowd can go fuck themselves.

/dick joke

Yeah, dooced.

Anyone who had 48 hours in the Ape Gets Fired For Coming Out On KSK Pool, please claim your prize of Cunt Puncher tattoo at the door. (link NSFW)

Upon sacking, I was told that I brought “discredit to the paper” with my choosing to drink at bars in my free time. Any good journo knows to keep the flask in the desk. That NFL PostSecret series also garnered far too few comments for their liking.

So now in lieu of a three-hour commute and tedious busywork, I can make the same amount of money writing the Further Adventures of Marmalard from my apartment. Sure, health insurance is nice, but it’s no constant masturbation breaks.

Still, getting escorted out of the building by security was no fun, and sharing the elevator with Dana Milbank on the way out was even worse, but none of that compares with the withering scorn of Jean Grey.