One of the things I've always tried to do at the 'Fire, is I've tried to be upfront with you. I try not to mention it, you know, but let's stress that I'm a pretty fucking big deal. So right before I was going to ask you for more money, I've decided to retire on the money you already gave me.
Why? Two reasons. First, because this is how a professional fucking writer starts a fucking paragraph, with a fucking rhetorical question.
Second, because, dummy:
I’m a human being before I am a writer; and a writer before I am a blogger, and although it’s been a joy and a privilege to have helped pioneer a genuinely new form of writing, I yearn for other, older forms. I want to read again, slowly, carefully. I want to absorb a difficult book and walk around in my own thoughts with it for a while. I want to have an idea and let it slowly take shape, rather than be instantly blogged. I want to write long essays that can answer more deeply and subtly the many questions that the Dish years have presented to me. I want to write a book.
The motherfucker is quitting a blog.