Here we are in the second month of our voyage aboard the good ship '2018'. Your Captain is here at the prow, crossbow in hand, on the look-out for albatrosses, and thinking about Valentines Day. Did you know people first celebrated Valentines Day in Roman times? They used to pair off women with men by a lottery. I know! And I'm a bad person for not celebrating it. Sigh. I'm just enabling you all.
Lately a lot of people have been assuming I was dead. It's strange how a man can't paint himself a greenish hue and lay about near busy intersections without everyone making weird assumptions. Now you might think of vampires as a sort of sublimated necrophiliac rape fantasy but that doesn't make them any less creepy. Today's card contains an octopus. The mention of vampires was just randomness.
I'm an acknowledged expert in a couple of fields - it's only modesty preventing me from telling you which. But I will say that my as yet unpublished tome 'The Psychology of Wasps and Wasp-like Invertebrates' puts me among the greatest scientific minds of our age. I just need to secure a publisher (the hardware store won't sell me any zip-ties). Oh, I'm also an expert on romance. I'm such a renaissance man.
So I invented Rehash Wednesday years ago but the world stole my idea and made it #ThrowbackThursday to avoid having to pay me royalties. Which is fine because I am nice, even people who haven't met me say so all the time. Anyhow, I'm told there is a lot of yellow in this card but I haven't been able to see yellow since I got angry that one time and ate some lead pencils. I think this card is about sheep and morality.
... and then it occurred to me that many men will be forgetting Valentines Day, and thus might be in dire need of an apology card tomorrow. Think about it. Think of the countless men who will awaken tomorrow to a frosty silence and spend the first half of the day in frozen bewilderment as to what the hell they forgot to do. And you thought YOU had problems.
Birthdays are a chore, especially if you're like me and celebrate your Birthday every couple of months with a different group of friends. I find there's safety in numbers. Of identities.
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.
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.
I know many of you hope one day to find a special someone with an excellent credit history and maybe go in on a thirty-year fixed-rate mortgage together. I too am a romantic. But romance isn't just about money - there's a biological aspect to it too. If you don't send today's card to a potential co-mortgage signatory then you'll never have any offspring to fight about in court. I'm here to help.
Let's say you're romantically involved with a balloon animal. Society doesn't understand - it never does - and you have to sneak out to this one Italian restaurant where the staff aren't all that judgmental. Now one night, over a candlelit dinner, she wafts across the table and touches the candle flame. Pop! She's dead! Do you tip the waiter for one meal or two?
Alright blokes, you're fond of a lady but you can't very well show up in her kitchen at 3am, naked and covered in mud and broken glass, claiming to be a time-traveler. Trust me, I speak from experience when I say that women are far too jaded and cynical nowadays for that to work. My best advice? Send this card. My next best advice requires a gorilla suit but I don't give away ALL my trade secrets.
This one time someone told me I was a bit weird and I told them they were a bit normal and then they looked at me as if I'd behaved like a dog on a croquet lawn. What's a man to do when nobody wants to be weird and nobody wants to be normal? My guess is that there's a fine line in there between and this card rests right there...
May 9th is National Lost Sock Memorial Day. I believe that every washing machine manufactured after 1963 was designed to eat precisely one sock per month, just to keep everybody in the consumer world a little off-balance. So where do all the socks go? They're sacrificed, with noble intent, for our collective unease. It's a religion I'm starting. And, of course, I'll be taking donations...
Today's card is a rehash Wednesday flirting card which means it's probably Not Safe For Work (whatever that means) though it CAN be useful if you'd like to flirt with someone today. It will also make you more popular - every time I send it to a woman she writes back and tells me how much she just wants to be my friend, which obviously is very sweet and quite complimentary.
Anteaters were once thought to be related to aardvarks but they turned out to be related to sloths and armadillos. I have never seem an anteater but I've seen several wombats. Anteaters aren't related to wombats but I don't see any reason why they wouldn't get along. Today's re-hash Wednesday card is dedicated to any anteater reading this.
As you know the jury is still out on science. That’s why I mistrust statistics, unless they’re my own, of course, 'cause I always check my statistics in my head, just to see if they feel plausible. Anyway today I wanted to do something for a Men’s Advocacy Group. I like to do things for men. Raise awareness of how we think. And I can already tell that 113.4% percent of you think I nailed it.
Zombies - a fad that just won't die (bada-ba-ching!). Are zombies just a metaphor for consumer culture? Or do they symbolize the unshakable unease of post-modernity? Are we simply fated to wake up one day and find ourselves fighting for our lives? Or will it only 'seem' that way to the infected? Hell, don't ask me, I've got my own demons and today's card is a reminder of the fact...
The thing about sick people is they give off fumes which are made up of tiny animals. You can't see them with the naked eye but, if inhaled, they get inside your blood and try to kill you. Also - people with optimistic attitudes have better defenses. That's why you have to cheer up sick people - it makes them less toxic. I've always been good at science.
As an enlightened sort of bloke I often feel a heavy weight of responsibility to help my fellow man understand that Romance topic that women like to yap about. Fellas, try to share half the pizza with her, alright? And remember, romance doesn't cost much when there are free wrongcards to send, or even just fresh flower bouquets laying about unattended near new graves. Here to help.
Look - I'm not saying I don't have issues but when I showed today's card to the guy who delivers my mail he embraced me, burst into tears and declared himself 'expressed'. I showed it to the guy in Starbucks and he grasped my hand firmly, called me brother and announced my lattes would be free forever or his life would be forfeit. It's not all that bad being a spiritual leader some days.
A lot of men find it difficult to express themselves emotionally, but that's only because a lot of men these days don't drink a lot of whiskey. Men, it's easy to speak your mind; all you have to do is make sure nobody is home, lock the doors and whisper. I can't believe we have a reputation for being unable to communicate.
Today is re-hash Wednesday; I post an older card and then ever so slightly exaggerate my plans for the rest of the afternoon. By the way, I hope today's card doesn't discourage anyone. Frankly, I hope it inspires a certain spirit of scientific inquiry.
On Wednesdays I like to post an older card for the sake of nostalgia and spend the rest of the day warning people about minotaurs stealing our jobs. I'll keep doing that until Fox News finally runs a panel discussion on the subject. Then I'll just retire in sick horror.
So, what did you do today? I drew a smurf. What?! Yeah - a smurf. Damn, man. Yeah I know - keep me in your prayers.
Today's card is a sympathy card which means you can send it to people who say they know someone who has recently died. Sometimes I suspect people make up stories like that for attention or to evade responsibilities. If you harbor doubts about someone, send along today's card and study them carefully to see if they look guilty.
So someone has invited you to a party: the hooks are in, the obligation to attend is fierce, but the thought of it all fills you with a nameless dread. Maybe it's because your friend's friends are lunatics. Or maybe it's because YOU are a lunatic. Doesn't matter. You can stop fretting and just send along this card. Life was meant to be this easy.
Sometimes people worry about death. But more often people worry about their earthly remains and whether a close personal friend might be planning to disinter their bodies for one reason or another. So I made a card that you can send along as a reassurance.
"Oh I heard you have swine flu." "No, I did have a headache but -" "Yeah, sounds like Swine Flu. Stay away from me, man." "It's not --" "Hey back off! I don't need to die right now."
On Wednesdays I like to post an older card that people may not have seen yet. The thing I like about this particular card is that, if you sent it to someone, all their doubts about you would be laid to rest. That may or may not be a good thing but that's a separate issue, right? Happy Wednesday!
On Wednesdays I like to post an older card and then spend the rest of my day abusing substances. So far I think the best substance to abuse has been chocolate pudding. But your mileage may vary.
This is one of the very first flirting cards we published. I feel that it is emotionally honest to let a person know just how awesome the night is going to be well in advance. It also gives them the chance to opt out in case they cannot handle high levels of pleasure.