I first ran across The Loose Moose (don't bother clicking; she deleted her blog) at Xenia's blog, where X had her listed as of her recommended blogs. It must have been a day when all the usual bloggy suspects weren't posting because I saw that link and thought, Hmm ... nothing else is going on ... why not?
I'm rarely happy about being bored but that day I was because discovering LuMu was like discovering a whole new continent that you had not only never been to before, but had no idea even existed. Because here was a running blogger who was a fast runner, yeah, but runners who are faster and better than I am are a dime a dozen; LuMu was also hilariously funny in a way that few — possibly no — other bloggers dared to be.
I don't meant she was facilely daring in the way that many bloggers are; it's not particularly daring to other runners to write about how you pooped or peed yourself giving your all in your last race (although that can, admittedly, be very funny); and of course, LooMoo was not exactly reticent when it came to discussing such things about her own running adventures. It's funny when a runner sez he pooped himself; it was way funnier when LooMoo would say she made an "asserole" in her pants.
But that's not even the daring part. Because as I said, pert-near every running blogger does that.
LooMoo would talk about whatever she wanted to and didn't seem to care if it hurt anyone's delicate sensibilities. Are you a dog lover? LooMoo — whose fear of dogs is legendary to her readers — would tell you why your dog and, indeed, all dogs should be "put down". Did you cry at the end of Marley and Me? Consult LooMoo's blog to learn why, exactly, you are a pussified tool. Do you play Secret Santa at your work place every Christmas? Guess what? LooMoo was more than willing to tell you why you and everyone like you are all Colossal Fucktards.
There are tons of other ways in which Our Beloved Moose used to push the envelope of, for lack of a better word, "permissibility". And as adumbrated above by me, her envelope-pushing may not even seem funny to you. But that was her magic. She made it funny. I can't, but she did. And it didn't matter if you agreed with what she wrote or were appalled by it (in principle, anyway) — you could not help but laugh at it.
I know I always did.
But that — what she originally wrote in her posts — is only half of what made her blog so irresistible. LooMoo's blog was a Wordpress blog, which meant you could see, in Google Reader, how many comments there were on each of her posts. And so you'd go to her blog and leave your comment, knowing it was, say, the fifth comment; and then you'd look at her feed in Google Reader next day and see there were like 12 comments and you'd be all Oboy Oboy! LuMu answered her fan mail! Because Teh Moose responded to just about every comment on her blog and her comments on our comments were unfailingly sublimely funny. They were as enjoyable as another post. And I know I was not the only one of her readers who typically left multiple comments on each of her posts and hied back to her blog the next day to see what her response would be.
The rest of us, if we're lucky, have commenters on our blogs.
LooMoo had fans.
I was one of them.
I hope she decides to start posting again. Because I'll be here ready to read her posts — and return to them multiple times — if she does.
Come Back, LooMoo!