Bikes. Parts. Chaos.

To follow up with my blog from last week, How to ask for stickers, I thought I should show you how not to ask for anything-ever.

 

On my way back from a rather refreshing and thirst quenching lunch, I noticed a letter in my mail box. I always get excited when someone takes the time to send us something. We get some great mail here, the majority of which is NSFW which makes it even stranger (and all together more pleasing) because I am at work. I usually take the letter or package back to my desk and look around to make sure no one is around that could get offended when I open up Pandora's Box. I am rarely disapointed but today happened to be one of those rare days.

 

This is what I got.

Notice the "stickers" in the return address field, the utter disregard for USPS standards and the insulting lack of personalization.

 

Then there was this.

You broke my heart with this empty piece of trash. No, those are not my finely manicured digits, Jules gave me a hand.

 

Inside this nondescript and completly boring envolope there is nothing but a stamped self addressed envolope. No letter, no toys, no coupons for Dairy Queen, not a damn thing. No effort at all. You sir are   a lazy bastard and I will do exactly what a lazy bastard would do with your heartless envolope, toss it right in the trash (I recycled it! don't get all bent out of shape).

 

This is the perfect example of how not to ask for anthing. I'm not asking for too much, it get's lonely here. At least say hello. We want to know who you are, what you've been up to, how you're doing now. After all, you left this morning without even saying goodbye, and you didn't even leave your phone number. It's not that our stickers are the greatest thing since sliced bread; I've seen better. It's the principal of the whole thing. You know what I'm talking about, right?

 

Now, I'll leave you with this little gem.

 

 
 
Be exellent to each other,
 
BoB