I'm a newspaper editor who went to the dark side of corporate communications for five whole months before running back to journalism. Then, after 10 months running a daily paper, I ran back to the same corporate communications job when I realized journalism, as I know it, is dying.
You could say I'm fickle. You could say I'm a chicken. You could say I'm a whore for money. You'd be right.
Cookiebitch was born because I needed an outlet for my angst. I used to vent in a weekly column in the newspaper, but now that I write about shiny happy corporate shit, I need to get out all the other, dark and dismal things or I'll start mowing down my coworkers with an AK-47.
Cookiebitch is named for a woman I once heard about - a CFO of a company who suffered from Turette's Syndrome. During the middle of board meetings or important negotiations, even in the elevator, she'd often shout out "COOKIEBITCH!" as a result of her disease.
I have sometimes wished I could be that woman - to be able to just scream "COOKIEBITCH" at the most inappropriate times, just to see people's reaction. It's tiring to always wonder if what you're saying is going to offend someone. Everyone is so sensitive in today's society, no one says what they mean anymore. Instead, most say what they think you want to hear.
Blogs are kind of like screaming "COOKIEBITCH" in church. It's a way to liberate yourself and say what you want, instead of what other people want to hear. It's a chance to be inappropriate, blunt, vulgar and rude. And god knows we all need a place to do that. If we had to be polite, appropriate and nice all the time, our brains would shrivel and die or we would simply explode from all the pent up "COOKIEBITCHES!" inside.
To anyone who reads this blog, I hope it is an opportunity for you to also liberate yourself and let it all go. If and when you reply to a post, tell me what you really think. If you think I drone on, tell me so. If you think I'm a pompous ass, I can take it.
This is a touchy-feely free zone. Let your inner Cookiebitch out.