One reason I published this site was for the friends who’ve always said, “You should write.” Usually, their suggestion follows some weird-ass thing I’ve put into an email exchange that happened to hit the right set of notes and make them giggle. I figured I’d attempt to channel that energy into its own series for anyone out there who might need the occasional funny letter from a friend. Because while a new dawn has come, it’s still pretty dark out there. Enjoy.
I hear it’s no longer fashionable to “hope you’re well,” as that statement has apparently become a symptom marker for insanity. So how does MY GOD, ARE YOU STILL ALIVE feel?
One of my freelance clients is a Trumpist bodybuilder. He spent 30 minutes talking to me about all of his bodybuilding outfits and trophies and pictures and stuff and “would I like to see some sometime?” I said no, thank you, but I charged him $50 for the meeting he dominated with Speedo talk.
I know what you’re going to say. But! It only seems exorbitant until you have to assign a value to listening to someone talk about bodybuilding. Then, $100 an hour doesn’t seem like nearly enough.
Later, Mr. Universe went on a short rant on how worried he was about “illegals coming back over the border, bringing diseases and drugs.” He’s in Montana, so I immediately replied with, “YOU MEAN FROM CANADA?!?” because I really shouldn’t work for anyone, anywhere, ever.
I also charged him $25.
My love to you and yours, my friend. But not hope for wellness. My health plan doesn’t cover inpatient psychiatric treatment.