My freshman year of high school, I was a timid little kid who had just began to realize how funny he is. I started writing “things that make me mad” in my AIM profile, and my friends suggested that I put up all these rants on some sort of website. So I created “bizzoony.com” in hopes of reaching people from across America, or even the world, and giving them the perspective I considered most important. I figure that if I even made one person laugh, I was doing my job. If out of the hundreds of articles I wrote, one joke made someone smile, giggle, or even scoff in shock, then I had affected their lives—even for a second.
What I discovered was that my website became a large part of younger kids lives. I would have daily readers, and I had to update things every week to keep people entertained. I would get IMs from people from Alaska, Missouri, and Pennsylvania telling me how funny they thought I was. Some of my posts would go around people’s profiles and my fame grew.
By my senior year I was being approached at parties by underclassmen. “Are you Boony?!” they would ask. “What?” I would drunkenly slur. People told me about how they followed instructions to bullshitting a high school essay and got an A.
Girls would show my website to their parents. They would leave me messages about how “funny my mom thinks you are,” or “how my dad couldn’t stop laughing about one thing you wrote.” It was weird. I had become a mini celebrity in the eyes of underclassmen and parents. In time I was being approached at parties by parents “Are you Boony?!” they would ask. “What?” I would drunkenly slur.
If nothing else, this website has kept me sane. It started as a way for me to vent my frustration, and turned into a way for me to share fun ideas, trends, and keep people into my social life of MADE, bad grades, and suspended captainship. Writing was my life, and sharing my ideas to the masses was the best part.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. As I am graduating high school, I feel that it is my duty to leave this website behind and move onto bigger better things. Lord knows I don’t want to become a 30-year-old Maddox writing on the same site for ten years, feeding his ego with each high school kid that shows him to his parents. Believe me, my ego is big enough.
My next journey? I’ve started a columnist position for this college website called pointsincase.com. Check it out, it’s really funny, and there are some amazing writers there who have also taken the next step from their pathetic little blogs. I even have business cards that I can pass out to people.
My point is basically that I’m done. Retired. Throwing in the towel. However you call it, I’ve started anew. My dream is to hopefully write for Rolling Stone, The Onion, or something else that appreciates writing with a twist of voice. Maybe I’ll become a writer. Maybe I’ll go into advertising so I can further reach out to the small kids that follow me.
I leave you with one last post. A tale I have been telling for a while, yet have never put in writing. It’s very close to my heart because I feel the symbolism in it is stronger than any book I’ve read. I think one day I’m going to write a short story in the perspective of the lighter in the story. Please do me the honor of reading the last and final post of bizzoony.com, and comment accordingly, no matter what you have to say.
Believe me when I say that it has been an amazing ride. It took thousands of papers, dozens of notebook filled with scribbles and stories that never got finished or published. One day I hope after a nuclear holocaust they find the notebooks in my desk drawer, and read the stupid things that spilled from the mind of a high schooler as he grew. And if you ever want to take a trip back in time and see the transition of my writings, feel free to go back and read it all over again.
Lastly, I have to thank you. Your comments and reaching out kept me going. At times I felt like a man with no audience, but then I would get a “hey man I loved that thing you wrote about Europe” and I would write again. You readers stuck with me through all my writing slumps, through all my experimental writing, and through all my stupidity. I thank you. Please enjoy this last post and understand it. It was an honor. See you when I’m famous.