======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====
We weren’t here for a long time, we were here for a good time. Buckle up, because everyone here wants to say their goodbyes (for now, not forever). It’s a long one folks; everyone came to say goodbye, from Crime Dog all the way to Crash (that’s me, if this is your first day here). Read to the bottom (partly because I’m last, mostly because you’re going to want to soak in every word on this page).
It’s been a pleasure, PGP.
We made a lot of good content and helped a ton of people waste time over the years. I’m sad for the brand and the people who consumed PGP editorial each day, but I know the staff will continue to pump great content wherever they land. I’m grateful for all of the writers who were with us when we launched the site back in the day and to those who stuck with us during times of change.
Thank you PGP community. That was a good little run we had. You’re the best.
When you hear something is “going away,” you often bemoan those things going away. It’s natural. It’s expected. Yes, the website won’t exist in the same capacity as it once did, if at all. But the body of work we created goes beyond The Chase, Getting Back In The Game, Insufferable Wedding Announcements, The Corporate Ladder, Power Moves, and Things Girls Do After Graduation.
When I first came on full-time at PGP, we had a mixed strategy. We wanted to write quality, long-form columns while also driving clicks with topical news stories. Through the years, we began to realize that the click-chasing didn’t exactly work. We wanted return customers. People who told their friends about what they read. Commenters who felt as though they were a part of something.
Because they were.
When I look back at the body of work that is PGP, I don’t look at any content in particular. The beauty of the site started from the top but improved as you went down the ladder. From full-time staff writers to the undying freelance team to the diverse community that followed along day-in and day-out. We saw friendships, bar crawls, engagements — the whole lot. And somehow, through all the mayhem that it was over the past four years, the community is the most incredible thing we built together. A united front who didn’t stand for claims of plagiarism, publishing less than four columns on any given Friday, and Duda sleeping on an air mattress.
I don’t think I’ll ever truly grasp how vast and incredible that community actually is. Hell, if I could actually wrap my head around it, I probably wouldn’t have written some of the things I published. But through thick, thin, Twitter controversies, and layoffs, the community always weathered the storm together. And that’s a true testament to everything we did together. A sincere ‘thank you’ to anyone who became a part of it. The best four years of my life.
Oh, and by the way, her name was— actually, let’s hold off on that.
Take a few minutes before you read this and queue up “Landslide” (The Dance 1997 Live Version) by Fleetwood Mac. Let yourself mourn for a few minutes. When I’m down in the dumps there’s nothing I love more than listening to that fucking song. Now snap out of it and pick up what I’m putting down.
In the time that this website has been around here’s what has gone down with me – I’ve been hired on as a remote writer. I uprooted my life in Chicago a few months after that and took a chance- I moved to Austin on a whim to pursue a dream full-time and it didn’t fucking work out and you know what? That’s okay.
I got laid off a few months after I got down there and I packed my bags with my tail between my legs. I then got back onto Peej as a remote writer a little while after moving back to Chicago and now here we are. The end of a chapter. Notice I said chapter. Make no mistake about it this is only a chapter in the story of my writing life. At least I hope it is.
I want to thank Dave Ruff and Will DeFries for encouraging me to write when I first started as a remote – without their support I wouldn’t have found my voice or this hobby that I fucking adore with every fiber of my being. It’s been a pleasure working with both of them I’m proud to call them personal friends.
PGP has been a whirlwind for me. I’ve written a lot of stuff over the years and while I was never the most liked by the readers I think I made an indelible mark on the website. If you were a fan of my writing just know that I appreciate you. Hell, even if you were hate-reading my articles and commenting on them just to insult me I appreciate you. I chalk it up as harmless fun in the long run.
I reveled in riling up the comment section and it was truly a joy to sit down for an hour or two every night after work and bang something out for the site the next morning. I love writing more than most things in life and I know right now that a lot of you are sad. And to an extent I understand that you’re upset but I think a little bit of perspective is needed in times like this.
No one is sick. No one has died. All of us who have written for this website (at least as far as I know) are in good health and have lives outside of this strange pocket of the Internet that we’ve carved out for ourselves. I can’t speak for any of the other writers who have contributed here, but I’m not done writing. I’ve got a podcast in the works that I hope you guys will listen to. We’re all going to pick ourselves up and carve out a new pocket. I have no idea where any of us will end up writing but I’m not just going to lie down and quit.
I’ve got my own website where I’ll continue to post and hopefully that leads to another freelance or permanent position elsewhere on the web. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I sincerely appreciate the platform that PGP has given me and I hope that you, dear reader, will continue to read my stuff. If not, that’s cool too. Onwards and upwards. Nothing gold can stay. Remember that.
To the Grandex/PGP staff- I don’t think I’d be the person I am today without PGP- writing as Crick Watson MD has been one of the best experiences of my life so far, and I can’t thank each of you enough for allowing me this opportunity and investing in my both as a writer and as a person.
To my fellow writers- over the past few years, you’ve become like a second family to me. I know nothing will take that away, but y’all are the best. You also have a crazy amount of talent and I can’t wait to see where each of you end up next.
To the readers- thanks for standing with us. Thanks for taking the time out of your days, for years, to take in our words. Thanks for building a community we’ve all gotten to enjoy in our weird corner of the Internet. This isn’t goodbye- it’s see you later.
Before I started to write this, I took a look back at some of my favorite PGP pieces and realized that I’ve been writing this site for more than four years. Which means my relationship with you dear readers has been longer than any that I’ve had with a significant other.
I’m not entirely sure if that’s pathetic or not, but in a weird, twisted way, that totally makes sense. From the moment I talked about being a fat girl through my quests to lose weight and find a new job, you encouraged me. Together we mocked people that had a worse weekend than we did and got excited about what Netflix was bringing us next month. But what we really did was form a weird little community, and it’s one that I’ll always be grateful for.
So all I really want to say here is thank you. Thank you for your support, your kind words, and making me both laugh at and take a hard look at myself when necessary. In the words of the woefully unrated Denzel Washington movie John Q, “it’s not goodbye, it’s see you later.”
I have to say I had planned a much more middle finger to the sky, guns-blazing, “What’s up, assholes!!!!!!!” return to PGP. I definitely envisioned writing a post from my pseudonym (Oh yeah btw, it was Emily.) saying “Surprise Dickbags! It Was Me All Along!” but life is weird and sad and strange and so instead, I’m back under much more melancholy and disappointing circumstances.
If you’d like to make a “We’re disappointed you’re back too” joke here, that’s totally fine. I wouldn’t blame you. In fact, I’d be surprised and my infamy would be slightly offended if you didn’t.
But all snark aside, saying goodbye to a website that played a very pivotal role in one of the most formative years of my life is sad in a way I didn’t expect. It might seem odd to call the nine-ish months I spent being roasted and dragged and metaphorically bitch slapped in the comments section pivotal, but it was. Writing with Will, Dave, Veronica, Rachel the other TSM girls, Kyle, Jenna, and the rest of the remotes helped shape me as a content creator and definitely played a hand in pushing me to where I ended up. If I hadn’t responded to a random DM from some guy in Michigan who wanted to see if I’d write on his blog, would I be a Professional Internet Person™ now, almost five years later? It’s hard to say.
What I do know is that if I hadn’t responded to said DM, I wouldn’t have the same knowledge and understanding of the way the internet works today. I wouldn’t have gotten a crash course in how to write for internet traffic (thanks for that one!) that takes a lot of people years to learn. I wouldn’t have learned as much about the freelance game in as short of an amount of time. What I do know is I wouldn’t have gotten the push to make this my actual, post-grad career.
What I do know is if I hadn’t responded to that DM, I never would’ve gotten to see firsthand how the community of PGP was different. How it—whether the “it” I mean are the commenters, the remote family, or both—was unlike a lot of other spaces online. What I do know is that it’s because of that community I have people who to this day are some of the people I trust most in the digital media industry in my life. I feel stupidly lucky to not only call them professional contacts, but my friends.
And that, whether you love or hate that I’m saying this, we can all agree was pretty fun to be a part of while it lasted. And it was pretty damn special.
So with all the being said, so long PGP. You were a weird one, at times a harsh and rude one, but you were a real one.
I look forward to see seeing your scathing comments below, one last time. <3 <3 <3 Icehouse
Once upon a time, Big T-Shirt Matt himself posted to his personal Facebook saying that his company was looking for freelance writers, so I wrote a satirical piece about getting really drunk as a parent. In what should have been a harbinger of things to come, none of y’all got the joke. I learned a couple of things over the next couple of years. First was that I can meet strangers from the Internet in person and it’ll be ok. Second is that this website formed a community of funny, happy, supportive and fiercely loyal (to a fault) people. I wasn’t sure I’d fit in here, as it is such a tight-knit community. Thanks for everyone who clicked, read, commented, or interacted with anything I created through this site. My only regret is that I wish I had done more (sorry Dave and Will).
As we move forward from PGP, please remember the following: When you see someone in an action movie break a bad guy’s neck, they usually grab the opposite cheek and make a swift move laterally. If you try this in real life, you will find a very alive and very pissed off adversary. What you need to do here is sort of mimic the neck-breaking action of a hanging, in that there is a drop involved. Instead of focusing your energy on the lateral movement, use both hands/arms to support only the head and neck, while kicking out the backs of the knees of your opponent. As he or she drops, pull and twist upwards and away, creating a corkscrew motion. The goal here is to dislocate the vertebrae in the neck, thereby incapacitating your target. Also, the DadGum Podcast isn’t going anywhere, so subscribe on over there!
I guess I’ll see y’all later. I’ve been writing for PGP through many life stages, from a fresh post grad to a cool dad. I’ve enjoyed all the love I’ve received from everyone and I’ve enjoyed threatening to fight any of my haters. Offer still stands. Thank you for all your support and please keep up with me. I’m on Twitterh and I will still be writing, with an announcement about that coming soon. Come holla at me on Twitter.
To The Readers,
I’ve done the math. In the past three years, I’ve written 340 columns for PGP. Some were funny, and some were serious. I wrote about my life, about my dreams, and about my fears. I wrote insightful, well researched columns, and I wrote stream-of-consciousness pieces that came straight from the weirdest parts of my brain. But no matter what I wrote about, you read it. From relationship advice to fictional series to thousand-word articles about farting on the train, you guys clicked, commented, and followed me on my weird journey through life. And yet, of the hundreds of things I’ve written, this one is the hardest.
Writing for Post Grad Problems has been an amazing ride. I have to thank everyone at Grandex, past and present, who gave me a chance, a platform to share, and who (thankfully) proofread my columns. Spelling is not my strong suit. It’s been an amazing opportunity to work with brilliant writers, podcasters, and producers of content, and it’s been an honor to write for a fantastic, dedicated fanbase. Even those of you that read my work just to shit-talk me in the comments, I thank you for the hate-clicks.
Will I stop writing? Hell no. I love over-sharing my life with strangers on the internet, and I plan on continuing to do so. Also, I have a series to finish. You thought I would let you all live the rest of your lives without knowing what happens to Eric and Alyssa? Please. I don’t know where I will continue writing, but I promise I will.
To everyone in the PGP community, writers and readers alike, thank you for everything. For updates on where you can find my writing in the future, follow me on Twitter.
P.S. Nick Arcadia is a pen name, and one that I’ll likely be leaving behind.
While I haven’t been able to share much content as of late, (thank you government job that forbids freelancing) I want to thank you all for reading my ramblings and engaging with me/fighting with me in the comment section and on Twitter. I hope I’ve swayed you all to hate Chip and Joanna Gaines and taught you a thing or two about selling pictures of your feet on the internet. You are all beautiful people, and I was incredibly lucky to be part of such an amazing community.
You’ll never walk alone. – Kell
Well folks, as I’m sure you are aware, this is the last time you’ll read a Madoff “article” on PGP. For some, this may be good news, for what I hope is many, this is sad. It has been an honor and a pleasure to write about life for these ~4 years and I’m thankful for the opportunity. I’ve gotten to meet a few of you, become Facebook friends and share this crazy existence that is life. Even if they were words on a screen, the comments, the banter and the experiences are something that I will always hold close to my heart. I don’t really plan to stop writing and there’s some ideas floating around. Hopefully, if something cool comes from this you will at least consider giving it a few clicks even if it’s to comment telling me to fuck myself. Thanks very much to my “editor” for making my rambling writing something coherent. Thank you to Dave and Will for giving me an opportunity. Thank you to all the wonderful people I’ve met, worked with and bullshit with for the last fourish years. Please don’t hesitate to reach out ever even if it’s just to shoot the shit.
Your Cubicle Brother-In-Arms,
When I submitted my first column to the site in 2016, I was coming off the heels of a pretty devastating breakup that I personally thought I would never recover from (ah, to be 22 again). I was freshly graduated from college and living at home with my parents, and I felt completely and utterly alone in my experience. Writing for PGP allowed me to communicate and connect with people who were much like me…you, the readers. I’ve been able to write about so many things over the years: life, love, dating apps, wedding SZN, shitty wine – you name it. I’ve enjoyed writing since I first learned how to put a pen to paper, and being a part of this site and community has done nothing but encourage me and support me in continuing to make writing a part of my life. All I can say, is thank you all from the bottom of my heart for being there during the highs and the lows. Oh, and the hangovers. The spirit of PGP will continue to live on, and I hope that wherever the content may take me, that you are there, too.
All the best,
If you know me at all, you know it’s very rare when I’m at a loss for words. Yet, I sit here… staring at a blank Word document… trying to type out a sincere, heartfelt “thank you” to the PGP community… and it has taken me nearly half an hour to even type these first two thoughts.
I’ll start here: Thank you to Dave for understanding and appreciating my humor enough to give me a shot. It meant the world to me that you saw potential in my writing and welcomed me in to this family. Thank you to Will for inspiring me and encouraging me when I was down. Your compassion and understanding shines brightly, and everyone sees it.
Now. Thank you everyone who took precious time out of your day to read my never-so-eloquent words. On other websites, columns typically seem like a finite & one-way conversation. Someone writes. Someone reads. But there was – and is – something so incredibly special about the community that grew from this website. PGP fostered a platform where a dialogue (not a monologue) resulted from each and every piece of new content, and that’s so incredibly cool. Because of this two way street, I was able to make lifelong friends with some of you via the internet. Please don’t take my words lightly when I say I’m so thankful for that.
I’m currently re-reading a book by my pastor, Erwin McManus, called “The Last Arrow”. I find it no coincidence that yesterday I highlighted a portion that explained how a victory in archery cannot be obtained without, quite literally, letting go. Other ancient weapons like swords never leave your hand, and therefore they cannot travel where you have not gone yourself. But arrows? They only have value when they are released. They extend our own range and can only fulfill its purpose when set in to the air.
Here, we’re letting go of something special to us, but it’s not over. The end of this era is just the beginning of a new journey. This definitely isn’t the last you’ll hear (or see) from me – and I know that’s the case for the other remotes.
I’m uncertain about many things, but there’s one truth in which I have full faith: Each and every one of the remote writers on this site are about to do some incredible things. Just watch. Although we once had PGP to unify us, the beautiful thing about the internet is that our connectivity extends far beyond a single website.
I love each and every one of you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Thanks for all the clicks and memories. I hope you’ve all enjoyed the content I’ve produced as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it for you. Through PGP, I’ve gotten to interview a prominent cannabis entrepreneur, attend a pop-up weed garden, and even gotten paid to compare sexual encounters to fast-food. I’ll still be around on twitter and maybe I’ll even meet a few of you some day down the road. But tonight, light up a smoke, have a toke, and drink a margarita for me. And above all else, never stop living the #MargLife.
Folks, I only wrote for PGP for a short period of time but it was clear from Day 1 just how passionate the readership and audience of this site was and is. Thank you for reading my often lukewarm beer takes and joining in my passion for slow cookers and A Charlie Brown Christmas. I’ll see you down the road. Cheers!
I still remember the day the first message came through my e-mail box: “Your submission to PostGradProblems.com has been published. Nice move!” Sometimes I’ll go back and re-read that first article, all the comments, and remember that first feeling of validation. That someone, somewhere, thought I was good enough, funny enough, to publish my words.
That “someone” was Dave and Will, who both helped and encouraged me throughout my two years working with them. Even more than that, though, they inspired me, gave me confidence and belief in myself that I’d been lacking. I truly owe them both a debt I cannot repay.
Someone else I cannot repay is the readers. You guys have laughed with and at me, helped me through my darkest hours and brightest days, seen me at my best and worst, my most flawed and strongest. If I do end up marrying “Jennie” (we’re moving in together soon, so leaning towards that way), I’m eternally grateful that this was the part of my life that I got to record and memorialize. This site connected people in a special way, both to you guys and to the other writers, whom I consider colleagues if not friends. Even after the site is gone, I’ll still have the stories and the experiences with you all.
You made me laugh, question my beliefs, and most importantly you made me want to be better and do better for you. Even now, I wish I could have done more for you guys, more Hypothetical Seinfelds, more listicles, more installments of the Corporate Ladder. I’d move mountains if it meant I could have one more month, one more week on this crazy ride. Unfortunately, it’s time to say goodbye.
When I was a kid my dad would play records for me in our living room. His favorite band was the Rolling Stones, his favorite song was “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” It wasn’t just the music he was imparting to me, it was the message repeated in the chorus which helped me through my toughest times: “you can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you just might find you get what you need.” We certainly aren’t getting what we wanted. I just hope that all of you get what you need. Peace.
Five years is a long time. When I think back to my 22-year-old self, she is a completely different person than the person I see in the mirror today. She was self-conscious about her personality, unsure of her skills or talents, and often scared to open up about how truly fucking hard it is to be in your early-to-mid-twenties. But over the past five years writing for Grandex, first for Total Sorority Move and then for Post Grad Problems, I’ve developed a sense of security, belonging, trust, and connection that I – guaranteed – couldn’t have received elsewhere. All of this can be attributed to this platform, and the relationships that I’ve been able to build as a result.
But alas, the Golden Globes acceptance speech go on. I’d first like to thank Veronica Ruckh and Catie Warren, who were the first people at Grandex to give me the opportunity to write for TSM. Thank you for letting me write honestly about one-night stands, queefing, and having sex with someone twenty years my senior. Not all heroes wear capes. I’d also like to thank Will DeFries and David Ruff, who have been amazing curators and builders of the PGP brand. You both have given me the feedback and tools necessary to become an overall better writer and content creator. I’m sorry I never got around to writing that “Cheeses, Ranked.” column. That’s my one real regret.
Lastly, to our readers. To say thank you to our readers would not be doing you justice. You gave us an outlet to speak our minds in ways that couldn’t be expressed out loud. You allowed us to grow from your feedback without fear of judgement or ridicule. You trusted us to create relatable content, and gave us the opportunity, time and time again, to make you smile. You helped us create a community of diverse individuals that was able to come together with the sole purpose of appreciating the humor in the lives of the everyday millennial. And for all of that we will always be grateful.
May we all find each other again one day when we’re all Debbie from the song “1985”.
It has been a tad more than 4 years since my first piece was published. Through PGP, I was given a platform to exercise my writing abilities and entertain the masses. I had never put myself out there before as a writer, so it was a journey in discovering how uplifting and at times how critical the interwebs can be. PGP has helped me grow as an individual, hone a craft, and become a part of a community of like-minded young professionals who have found their common ground.
Thanks to PGP, I have gained many internet friends; some of which I talk to on a daily basis and have actually met out in the wild. I’ve seen this site evolve from a simple blog into a community of dedicated, albeit sometimes even rabid, followers. Y’all are crazy but that’s what makes this niche group of writers, readers, and commenters so fun to be a part of.
To the writers,
Hello my name is Shibby. It has been a blast working with you guys. Thank you for the banter in the FB group, the feedback, and the inspiration you’ve provided over the years. I will miss our roundtables and the secret santas. Best of luck to all of you in content alley.
To the readers,
It has been a blessing entertaining you guys and I am sorry to see this avenue closing. Feel free to share with me you worst weekend stories because I will genuinely miss hearing about the shit show of a life some of you all lead.
Feel free to follow me on all forms of social media and keep in touch!
When you run out of content and have to do actual work. #PGP
There’s a fairly famous Dr. Seuss quote, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” And while I generally love Dr. Seuss, I really fucking hate that quote. I hate change, but that’s all that life seems to do: consistently change. And here we are, with a pretty heavy change for many lives; nevertheless, I am going to choose to look back at my time with PGP and smile. I’m taking nothing but fond and happy memories, folks.
Before signing off, I would like to express my gratitude to some people: First and foremost, to the Touching Base crew, Dave, Will, and Dillon. I stumbled upon the pod one summer that I was working a travel camp and needed something to fill my ears other than children’s voices. I was hooked from my first episode, and since shooters shoot, I wrote a little ditty, took a chance, and clicked ‘submit’. There was no turning back.
Thank you, Dave, for creating our PGP community. Your leadership and guidance and support never went unnoticed… especially on International Women’s Day. I would also like to thank Will, who brought me into PGP and kept me writing with all of the encouragement and advice. (I’d also like to express my gratitude towards Dillon’s Instagram account – see, ‘thirst trap’.) A huge, giant, dee-dee-mega-sized-thank-you to all of my fellow remote writers: Y’all the real MVPs. Thank you so much for inviting me into your community with open arms and immediate Twitter follows. I’m so glad that when I tell people that “I heard it from my internet friend” I’m not actually insane, but speaking my truth.
And last, thank you, dear reader. Thank you for reading about what a bunch of small children say to me regularly and thank you for reading about dogs and farts and my favorite TV shows. Sometimes you left an absurd half question/half comment in the comment section which I had already explained; sometimes you didn’t like what I wrote and tore me down; and sometimes, in some fun and magical moments, you lifted me right up. You made me feel like I never left my elementary school students. Thank you, thank you, thank you for everything.
So keep on keepin’ on, folks. Keep your head high, be nice to each other, use your manners, and always put the caps back on your Magic Markers because they dry up easily and those shits are expensive.
I’m speechless. I’ve been trying to formulate some sort of an eloquent speech or column or something that could convey how much Post Grad Problems means to me. I remember graduating from college and reading columns from Will and Duda and Madoff and countless others, thinking to myself how funny those guys were and how much I related to them. Then one night I got too drunk off wine and wrote a column about how I was afraid to take a shit in my apartment because I had a female roommate and wasn’t sure how she would react. A few columns later and I woke up to an email from Will himself, asking if I would be interested in being a remote writer for the site.
From the end of 2016 through mid 2018, I felt as though I had finally found a community who I could be myself and express myself to. There were hits, there were misses, and everything inbetween. I met some incredible people along the way–one of whom is my girlfriend of just shy of a year and a half.
So I guess, more than anything, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for showing me that even in adult life, you can still be part of something bigger than yourself that isn’t a cult. Thank you for encouraging me to think outside the box and push myself further in my writing. Thank you for the stories I hope my parents never read. Thank you to everyone in the PGP family, the writers, the readers, the commenters, and everyone who I shared my debauchery with over the years.
Keep it real, everyone.
I have written for a few different websites over the past five years and my favorite part of this little sojourn into internet writing has been the people I’ve met along the way. I know that’s a corny cliche, but it is absolutely true and the PGP community has been no exception to that. I am incredibly thankful to Dave and deFries for giving me the opportunity to be myself on such a great platform and share my voice with such a large audience. It was an honor to share a space, work alongside, and make friends with other immensely talented and funny writers who, like me, have just been trying to navigate the murky waters of postgrad life and used PGP as an outlet for our struggles and successes.
And most importantly, thank you to all the readers and commenters for visiting this site and engaging with all of us on social media day in and day out. You are what make writing so worthwhile. We are nothing without our fans. It is genuinely a flattering feeling knowing that I wrote articles that you guys could relate to, or find humor in, or read as a pick-me-up on a slow day in the office. Knowing that I could make a positive impact like that on someone’s life brings me more satisfaction than putting together spreadsheets at my real job ever could. I haven’t written here in almost a year, but this experience is something I’ll carry with me with a great source of pride. Hopefully we’ll see you guys soon.
Respect & knuckles,
Heavy Metal Krist
Hey fam! For full transparency I’m a little champagne drunk right now. I waited to submit this post until the very last minute possible (Sorry Kyle) because I didn’t really know what to say. I still don’t. Since I turned 21 and graduated college I’ve been looking for answers. I felt, often times, like my life wasn’t going according to plan. Like I didn’t quite fit the mold of what a Young Professional girl should look like. Then I started writing for PGP and everything changed. I found a community of writers just like me – confused and passionate and willing to admit that life isn’t perfect, no matter what stage you’re in. I found editors like Will and Dave willing to entertain my most emotional of thoughts, editors that told me I was a writer even when I didn’t believe it. Most importantly, however, I found a community of readers that gave me the courage to be honest about who I was. Readers that gave as much to me as I gave to them – through emails and DM’s and comments that I read and re-read after every post. From my first article to my last – I was writing for you. So thank you for that. Thanks for the friendship, kindness, and genuine internet love. It won’t ever, ever be forgotten. See you all again soon! Love, CMV.
If you’re asking yourself, “who the fuck is this guy?” I get it. I was one of the laziest remote writers in PGP history, so that’s understandable. But for the little amount I did write for this site, it was some of the most fun I’ve had in my cube monkey existence. The people I’ve met and become friends with through this little corner of the internet have all been awesome and I’m thankful to everyone who has enjoyed the content that myself and more importantly all the amazing writers on this site have put out. Thanks for sticking with all of us until the end, you’re what kept this team motivated and our whole crew of writers appreciates the shit out of you guys. Also, thank you to PGP for giving this idiot a shot, I’ll always be grateful for that. You’ll be seeing more from many of us in the future and we’re all internet nerds here so you know where to find us on social media. If I happen to run into any of you on the street though, your first beer’s on me.
If you’re holding this letter, you already know. PGP has been boarded up. The writers, the columns, everything.
Thanks to everyone who ever read, commented, shared or engaged with my work or the site. Thanks to the readers of Things I’ve Gotten Worse At, the listeners of Don’t Take It From Us and everybody on Twitter and in person who has ever come out to a show. Some big things coming your way on my end – I’m looking forward to continuing to create content for you to enjoy
To readers and writer alike – if you’re ever in the Bay Area and want to grab a drink let me know.
I love you,
I’ve spent all day reading the other writers’ farewells while I think about how to craft my own. Each had me more touched than the last. This website and this community was special to me from the moment Dave Ruff agreed to give me a shot as a remote writer. Every single thing I’ve gotten the chance to write on this site has meant the world to me. Writing for PGP brought me out of a pretty dark place in my life, as silly as that may sound.
Four years writing for PGP brought me so much, and I’ll always be grateful. I’ve been fortunate to form friendships with so many incredible people through writing, and even managed to meet my girlfriend from it. To every other writer on this site I’ve gotten the chance to interact with, which is too many talented people to name, I’m honored to have worked with you.
Mostly, I wanted to get this roundtable together to thank the people that have made this four years for me so special, and that’s anyone who’s logged onto this site and read our work. Y’all have been there for everything I’ve put out, whether it be a gem or a clunker. You hung with me for the misadventures of Post Grad Single Dad & Grant, my incessant Twins fandom, and every article I posted that had to do with feces or farting (it was more than one, I’m trash). You guys have also gotten behind The DadGum Podcast, which I know I speak for Pete as well when I express how incredible that’s been.
This site wouldn’t have been what it was without y’all reading it, and chiming in every day. You gave me confidence and fulfillment that really picked me up in ways you can’t imagine. Writing has been a fucking blast, guys. Like others have touched on, I’m not done with the content game, not just yet. Pete and I are going to keep going with DadGum as long as we can. I’m hoping to take my talents on the keyboard somewhere in the future as well, and you can always find me on Twitter.
For now, there’s not much to say except farewell PGP. You were too fucking good to me, and I’ll miss you. Twins in 2019, you heard it here first. .
I couldn’t decide on the perfect clip to end our PGP journey with, so you get to pick your preference. PGP, a site of the people until the very end.