If you think ecards and greeting cards are - at best - insipid, mass-produced tokens of insincere sentiment, then I like you. And also, welcome to Wrongcards.
I dislike funerals 'cause afterwards you have to go and mill about at someone's house and there is always potato salad covered in plastic wrap. And I really hate potato salad. But my job requires that I write Sympathy Cards, so I have to brush all the nausea under a metaphorical rug and be professional about death. Today's card? Consummate professionalism about death right there.
I was listening to some poor, hapless parent talking about how hard it was to get their kid to enter the civilized world and, before I knew it, the words of today's wrongcard fell off my tongue. If I ever become a parent I want to do it the old-fashioned way: accidentally. I look forward to it, I suppose; it just seems so romantic to flee a country and live under a false identity.
It is hard to remember that, although Wrongcards is now a mega-corporation with global brand-awareness and a market saturation rivaling that of Coca-Cola, we were once a small outfit run by one man and a telepathic dog. In 2008, before we sold out to corporate interests, my dog told me to make this card. Or to feed her. Look it's not important.
As you know I'm determined to rescue romance from a culture saturated in half-measures and moderation. Everyone needs a mission I suppose. And maybe it's because I'm from privilege, having been raised on up-market cat food by Nanna in a caravan in South-East Queensland, but I find myself wanting to give back to society. So - if this card doesn't help you, you must be very lost.
Romance today is all about half-measures. It's gotten so bad that boys don't even steal flowers from graves any more, they just buy 'em in a shop. That's like saying 'I'll do anything to win and retain your affections provided it's convenient and lawful'. Once, lovers red-lined their emotions well into the realm of corpse desecration. But its ok, Romance can be saved; Wrongcards is taking it back!
I was not, as I mentioned once in a wrongcard, put on Earth to help people feel good about being wrong. But who am I, really? Just your average guy, really, just a regular boy who happens to have an invisible blood-soaked hammer of logic welded to his right hand. I like girls and nutmeg cake. I collect wasps, and destroy traitors and hypocrites with my mind. I'm not complicated.
The only reason Wrongcards has not officially endorsed a religion is because we haven't yet received a sponsorship offer. My hope is that we'll be sponsored by Christianity though I don't know much about it other than its founder was a tall, bearded, blue-eyed guy with North-American good looks. Still, his followers seem to be pretty heavily-armed, which I think is pretty persuasive really.
Anniversaries are great. If you can keep someone from working out who you truly are for an entire year then you deserve a bit of a romantic celebration. Sadly it is becoming increasingly customary these days to spend your anniversary with your partner and not with prostitutes, but traditional values will come back into vogue, don't worry. Another war will see to that.
I'm not ashamed to admit it: I'm a man and sometimes I have emotions. When Bunheads got canceled I went into a bit of a dark place. I dragged most of my furniture into the backyard and burned it all in a cold rage, and grew a beard for a while. Downton Abbey reruns made me feel whole again. You know what? I'm dedicating today's card to you. And to Bunheads.
Sometimes nice, well-meaning people will try and convince me that that lizards are not secretly running this entire planet. And privately I admit that this belief that primates rule the world is spooky and delusional but I don't SAY so, of course. I just smile and agree with them. The problem with people is that they lack a healthy skepticism. I blame the drugs that the lizards put in the water.
I'm not the tidiest person but that doesn't mean my friends shouldn't be. Sometimes I'll go over to a mate's place and think: how nice that you feel comfortable enough not to clean up before I arrive. So I tell them what Black Mold is. Ten minutes later they'll be disinfecting the linoleum under the fridge while I watch on, eating all the biscuits. You see, I have always liked biscuits.
As you know today is Rosh Hashanah, a famous Jewish holiday. I have a Jewish friend (hi Andy) but then, I'm a cosmopolitan guy who almost smoked a Dutch cigarillo once. It's important to have diverse, multicultural friends whose belief systems you can wear down over time. One day Andy will worship the alien lizard god. I'm very patient.