Sunday, March 08, 2015

A GENTLE BELLY-ACHE

The other evening I emptied my snailmailbox. As you might expect, there is scant need to do so more than once a week, because almost anybody who needs to communicate with me already has my e-mail address, or is on facebook, or simply leaves a comment underneath a blogpost.

Or utilizes my Letter Box.

Snailmail is for circulars, brochures, and the occasional bill or seasonal greeting card. Real communication nowadays is electronic.


THE LETTER BOX

Several people whom I know primarily via the internet have my e-mail address. Some initiated contact by clicking on my Letter Box and leaving a query with their own contact data, from which communication blossomed.


Sorry, George, that also includes you. I apologize for not having responded yet -- it's been a busy few weeks -- but sometime soon you should expect an epistle. No, I have NO idea what happened to the cigar-store Indian that was in the backroom at Drucquers -- that thing gave me nightmares, or at least played a prominent role in them; Bourbon may have also been involved -- and by the way I am still enjoying that Canadian I got from you. Burley leaves a marvelous carbon layer. Have you tried Cornell & Diehl's Haunted Bookshop, or Old Joe Kranz? Excellent Burley blends!
I highly recommend them.


Coworkers from the past, old friends, relatives in the wilds of Canada or Santa Barbara, and people I went to school with, are all welcome to make contact with intelligent life on this planet by clicking on that link.

Strange linguistics? Obscene propositions? Feedback on how your life sucks? Technical queries about pipe-smoking? How to make milk-tea? Why your little sister deserves a spanking?
All can! Truly.

I really like people. So I appreciate feedback, conversation, and caffeinated beverages anywhere in the North-Eastern quadrant of the city.


One of the original intentions of the Letter Box was to tempt some sweet young internet-cruising damsel into risking contact with a dangerous middle-aged rogue, such as I fancy myself to be.

You have to admit; it could work.

Unfortunately most college grads are FAR too savvy.
Spambots not so.

Spambots see the very first comment-style clicky-wicket and plunge right on in, more or less gibberantly disquisitioning on the piece underneath which that Letter Box was strategically placed. An article deliberately posted back in time, which simply mentions that it exists to anchor a Letter Box, by means of which people who do not have my e-mail and aren't on Facebook can contact me.

I'm still hoping for that bright young graduate student.

What I get, in bucket loads, is pork shoulder.


What I found this morning in my Letterbox:

  • Something about a new strategic vision in someone's community, and the perfection of the article stating that the post in question existed purely as a place holder for the Letter Box, which was precisely what they needed.
  • Praise for my incredible skillz. Two kinds.
  • Some gibberish about media being the fount of all knowledge.
  • One person does not know who I am or how he ended up here. Sincere suggestion: therapy.
  • I am cultural and surpass all definition. If you are female and utterly charming, thank you.
  • Somebody spent FOUR HOURS surfing the internet before finding me. Better luck next time.
  • Genuine happiness about reading, and updates for his ignorant little brother; material for a dissertation.
  • Several variations of incredibility involving medications for my penis and clashing clans; I fail to see the connection to my Letter Box.
  • Clashing clans. Viagra. More clans. More viagra. Variations on viagra, and cogent clan-based clashing. Do clans clash because of viagra? Who knows! Purple candy crush.
  • And, last but by no means least: The misspelled yet forthrightly expressed desire that I should write further, and in greater detail, much more outstanding ponderings about the enchanting subject of my Letter Box.



Thank you. As you can see I have done that last one, as per your suggestion.


For your information, spam is hardly a substitute for the first shy feeler from a charming young lady who is keenly interested in a weirdo.
I am still vibrant and full of sparkle.
Don't need spam.




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NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
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