

Then the lazy bastard quit blogging. Not formally--he made no grand announcement. Rather, his blog sat and rotted away as the months and years went by, with no one but me checking back from time to time to see if he'd puked up a few new wisecracks yet.
Why, then, did I continue to link to him, post after post here on Karlababble, when I knew those links were only sending my readers to a black hole in the web? Because, goddammit, there is no one on earth more suited to be the punchline to my jokes than Wombat. In this one area of life, he excels! When I set up a small penis joke, no name fits so perfectly as the punchline as his. Try it! Say something like, "Blah blah blah de blah blah small penis? Blah de blah blah de blah Common Wombat!" See? He's perfect!
And he's versatile. Tired of penis jokes? Okay, I'll switch to herpes stricken, homeless crackhead jokes. Again, he's perfect! Porn-addicted, sexually ambiguous welfare recipient jokes? He's perfect! Serial-killer-living-with-his-mom jokes? PERFECT! Believe me, I've tried others. When it became evident that Wombat's blog was as dead as Don Henley's career, I tried using a variety of seemingly equally repulsive characters as punchlines for my jokes. I tried tfg, Mighty Dyckerson, Anonymous Coworker, and a couple of others. Yeah, sure, they were passable. But still, they lacked something. They weren't quite vile and grotesque enough. I needed Wombat.
So I begged him to return to blogging. I threatened. I pleaded. I talked you guys into pleading. All of it fell on deaf ears. Not that he didn't want to blog, I don't think. I think it's just that he's so slovenly, so lazy, so utterly inert, that he wasn't able to physically move his fingers across the keyboard.
But suddenly, things have changed. That lazy, shiftless cretin has recently announced a return to blogging! Don't get your hopes

That's the up side to his return to blogging. The down side is that I now have 24,765 links in my past blog posts that officially go nowhere. That prick did it to me again.