Dear Reader, (an open letter to my followship) (and Carter)

I hope this letter finds you well. I am currently sitting on my new Karlstad couch from Ikea, which cost less that my travel to and from New York last week. Ah New York, the city in which I never sleep. Because of the drugs, dear reader, because of the drugs. Now, I was going to use this letter as an excuse for why I haven’t been in contact, I know, I’ve been terribly remiss in our correspondence, but I’m not going to simply excuse myself after all. I was going to tell you about CMJ, embellishing greatly with scenes from Spielberg’s masterpiece Jurassic Park (which I might add is an apt analogue, when taken from the viewpoint of myself as one of the dinosaurs). I was going to tell you about my trip to Target, which resulted in me buying a toaster oven, and then attempting to photoshop myself into stills from The Bourne Identity. I was going to regale you about my sojourn to space, and meeting Jeff Goldblum there. I was going to run on about my trip to Nashville where I ended up in a poker game with Kenny Rogers, Ry Cooder and Death itself. I was going to tell all about about my encounter with Milton Friedman in a Starbucks where the service was just abysmal, so we went across the street and had Earl Grey tea and he told me how he faked his death because the Nobel Committee retains strict control over your life rights after you win. I was going to go on and on about the 3 days I spent at the bottom of a well, searching for answers, only to find myself in a dream state hotel room with a hooker and a baseball bat, no, wait, I’m not going to tell you about that. I was also going to tell you that I spend the last 2 days watching Fringe in bed, and it’s totally awesome.
But no, the time for petty excuses and the cheap dodging of responsibility is over. I will no longer shrink from the tough questions like a politician up to 2 years before an election, I will no longer hide like Tupac, JD Salinger and Steve Jobs when he drops a dress size, I will no longer cower like those 12 year olds I just pwned in Call of Duty. I will stand tall and say to my friends and peers, NO, this is not just a site for reposting funny things on the internet, NO, this is not just an outlet for masturbatory rambling, NO, this is not just a place that posts cool mp3s for free download so that we can try to up our traffic.


Thank you and good day.

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