Half the fun of what we do is sending things out: books, t-shirts, posters, baby onesies. We make stuff, and we send them into the ether.
But the other half of the fun is seeing what you send us.
For example, today we got a box in the mail from a subscriber. The box was very light. It almost seemed empty. And yet there was something rattling around inside. Something so light it almost wasn’t there.
I was baffled, perplexed, intrigued. What could be inside?
As it turns out, the box was full of money. Don’t get me wrong, I love money. The seeming consternation on my face is a function of confusion, not displeasure.
Further investigation brought us to the bottom of the mystery. Instead of using a credit card, PayPal or a check, Richard decided to send a holiday-themed laundry line of cash, helping us avoid processing fees while injecting a little festivity into the transaction.
We’re torn. Richard’s payment is, in fact, a piece of “art,” a thing we’re loathe to dismantle in the name of, say, buying groceries for our children. We’ll see how long our commitment lasts.
The point of all this is that we love hearing from you. Please send us stuff. We love getting mail.
Even mail that does not consist primarily of decorative cash money.
OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR HAIR???????
(This is directed toward Matthew, not Robbi.)
In fact, Don, that WAS directed toward me.
I cut it off. You can thank me now.
I apologize, Robbi. I should have been clearer; that was directed at Matthew’s hair, not at your hair. And I did not state whether I do or do not like it. I am merely expressing surprise at the change.
No, I’m saying I cut Matthew’s hair. He had to look somewhat presentable yesterday, but once I started cutting, I couldn’t stop. Don’t ever ask me to cut your hair, unless you really want it CUT.
All I’m gonna say is: don’t ever get into the circumcision business.
Richard isn’t in the printing business, is he? Those bills look awfully clean and crisp. And now hanging from a laundry line…heh…