Greetings. As a new reader and a big fan of OOW's editors (except Emily...I've never met her, but I'm sure she's a splendid person), I feel obligated to mention that I was the one who told Kate about McSweeney's Internet Tendency. I was reading McSweeney's a long time ago. I mean, like, last March or April. You could have at least given me a "shout-out", as the kids like to call it. You know, word to my homey Andrea or something like that. I was only trying to help her out of her office-induced boredom stupor, because I know all too well the flicker of the overhead fluorescent lights and the way you forget to blink while desperately searching the Internet for stimulating things to read. Oh yes, I know it well. But I build houses now. I will, however, find the time to read every single word of every article published on your web site, because I think it's the coolest thing since...um...what's the phrase? Spiced lead? Diced heads? Ew.
Andrea L. Cole
p.s. Hell yeah, platypus motherfucker.
Dear Ms. Cole,
We're sorry, do we know you? Are you Andrea Cole of Newcastle? Or Andrea Cole of Hogandburg USA? Or Andrea Cole of that unforgetably romantic week in Vegas in '92? To conclude, by way of apology for this note, here is a poem about you. (It is in the haiku form.)
andrea l. cole
shimmering blossom woman
wrote us a letter
See you at the Superbowl Pajama Kegger.