Inner Jobber: January 2020

October 4, 2011. That was the date of my first Inner Jobber post. It compared Shakira and Randy Orton (in terms of their graceful movements and control of their bodies--their own, I mean, not each other's), and it didn't exactly set the internet on fire--not even the gay wrestling fan section of it. Because it wasn't particularly GOOD. But it was my start.

And then, in early August, 2018... Well, I don't want to say I freaked out. At the time I felt I was being calm and reasonable.

--I AM CAAAAALM!!!
--WTF dude no.

Okay, well, you know how there's different ways of being a jobber. Like, OUTSIDE of the ring too. Like, socially. Or internet-computer-socially. You know, real socialization online that feels like it should feel like pretend socialization that's just as scary as real socialization. You know.

Anyway. I decided that I wanted to minimize my presence on the internet. So I deleted all my posts. From October 4, 2011, to I don't know, I guess August 9, 2018. Because August 10, 2018, is the first date of my new, textless, jobber museum, "here's a picture but I don't talk" Inner Jobber.

Sh. No talking.

Almost seven years I deleted. I deleted posts from so long ago, that Mason Ryan was hired by WWE at the time.

*sigh* Good times.

I deleted posts that were ignored. I deleted posts that generated conversations. I was a deleting FIEND and at the time I was doing it, I think it felt good. BURN IT DOWN.

I deleted posts that made me feel like I had friends out there. I deleted posts that made me cringe to think anyone might read them.

I deleted posts about matches from wrestling companies that sent me matches to post about. I deleted posts about matches I loved, that I would have posted about anyway. I deleted posts about matches I didn't care so much about, that were making fun blogging feel more like...ugh...WORK.

W-w-work?!

I mean, it DID feel like there were some negatives I was getting away from...

...but...DAMN.

Needless to say, and OBVIOUSLY, as anybody might have advised me if I had bothered to ask anyone (which I didn't), soon I was regretful. What had I done? Could I get them back? Don't they say that once it's on the internet, it's on the internet forever?

Well don't worry. Apparently you CAN delete things off the internet forever.

There's a website, the Wayback Machine (Peabody and Sherman shout-out!), that preserves stuff on the internet. Snapshots of websites. Of course, if you delete all your pages, then as the Wayback Machine takes new snapshots, it snapshots the deleted pages. I mean, it snapshots the deletion. "Page unavailable."

So using the Wayback Machine (that just made me sound like a fucking TIME TRAVELER, awesome), I was able to salvage SOME of the posts from 2011 to 2018, and sometimes, even some of the comments. Wishing that I could just UNDO the purge, I salvaged everything that I could. Honestly for a few months I just sat on them, debating if I even WANTED to re-post the older ones, or if I should stick to my deletion guns. BURN IT DOWN. But, as you can see, I restored everything I could. So now there's a sampling of posts from those years, to indicate that "I WAS HERE." But a far, far cry from the hundreds there used to be, sadly.

What is this post? Not really an apology, I suppose. An explanation? Do I KNOW what I'm doing? Clearly not--there are parts of THIS post I feel like I should delete.