I’m prolly one of your biggest fans. (In a totally figurative sense, of course. I’m sure that there are actually plenty of other people who read your site that are literally bigger than I am.) Anyways, I’ve read it everyday at my boring desk job for the past few months. My favorite thing about you is how you make me laugh, and how we share a lot of common interests (Liza Minelli, fart jokes, pot, etc.). There’s also this sense of comfort now, but what I worry about with that is there’s always this like iffy time period where comfort can lead to routine and it’s around this point that I’m like, “Are we spending this time together because I really want to be here, or because I’ve just grown used to it being a part of my life?”

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the time I spend with you, and still look forward to seeing you on my monitor every day, but honestly, I’ve felt kinda slighted lately. As a girl, I just feel like you’re into your own boy stuff and you don’t pay attention to, or care about exploring what makes us girls tick. And I’m not trying to say that you should be forced into liking America’s Next Top Model or whatevs (even though you might actually enjoy at least a little bit of Tyra Banks because, like Gary Coleman, something is really …wrong there, but I just can’t place my finger on exactly what).

What I’m trying to say is that I love your site, but I’m not in love with it. I’m still keeping other tabs in my Firefox open, and seeing other blogs, ’cause like, I guess I want more. But I don’t want to be doing that anymore, because it’s really annoying to have to hide all those windows when my boss comes by and shit.

I wouldn’t even bother with bringing this up to you if I didn’t think you were capable of, not necessarily change, but you know, growth…movement…expansion. So maybe, for me, and your other girl readers, you can toss us a boner sometime, and like be a little less action figure, and a little more baby doll. Not like all pink and frilly or whatevs, but maybe something on the lines of this (pic above) Because I don’t want you to stop being retarded. But I’d like it if you were a little bit cutesy-er.

xoxox,

Denise DiFranchi

We got this letter on the weekend and fell in love with Denise so hard we hired her to become a full time writer / link sender. She has never done this before which is ideal because the more time people spend interning for newspapers and going to journalism school, the less interesting their writing becomes.

When we offered her the job she said, “But I’m 18. I’m only a child” to which we responded, “Picasso said it took him a lifetime to paint like a child.” To which she responded, “But we’re talking about writing here not painting.” To which we responded, “Yes, you fucking child. It’s called an ANALOGY.” To which she responded, “That’s how you help people get started with a new career? You make them cry?” At which point we grabbed her by the waist and yelled, “Get in the car you infant!”

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