Me for the next eight weeks, but instead of a beach Ill be in Bremerton and instead of a swing Ill be on my couch.
Me for the next eight weeks—but instead of a beach in the tropics, I'll be on my couch in Bremerton. FilippoBacci/Getty Images

The Stranger, like many businesses in Seattle and beyond, has taken a major financial hit in the wake of COVID-19. Ninety percent of our revenue comes from people getting together in public—the cultural life of the city and the ads and tickets that support those industries—and now that many public gatherings aren't just discouraged but actually banned, all that revenue just... evaporated. The city is in trouble. The world is in trouble. The Stranger is not immune from those troubles, and if you have ever considered donating to support us, now is the time.

To help out, I have volunteered to take a furlough for the next eight weeks, which means I will not be here on Slog to torture you. Since joining The Stranger in 2017, a lot of people have called for me to be fired. From my piece on detransitioners to my skepticism of #MeToo, I've rubbed many of you fine (and not-so-fine) readers the wrong way. The Stranger, despite all the takes I've had, has stuck by me throughout. Now it's my time to give back by helping the company keep costs down.

Instead of writing for Slog for the next eight weeks, I'll be social distancing, working on some writing projects, trying to find a hobby (what do people do for fun, again?), and teaching my dog not to hump. (What I will not be doing is watching any more goddamn debates.) So this is a temporary goodbye. But if you miss me, you can always find my bad jokes and even worse takes on Twitter, where I will, unfortunately, be spending even more of my ample free time.

In the meantime, The Stranger needs your help. If you can donate to help us keep this *free* independent journalistic outlet afloat during turbulent times, please do. Everyone here thanks you from the bottom of our curdled black hearts.