The 800 Club

Neither snow nor rain nor heat sure,
but email and budget cuts? Yup,
they're kind of screwed now.

You know, according to the counter on my blog's dashboard this post is #800. Yes, 800. I thought maybe you didn't know or that you forgot or something. I only mention it because I didn't get your card...that is if you sent a card, I didn't get it. Which is weird, you know? I order shit online all the time and it gets to me without fail, but things happen. It's not likely, but maybe it got lost in the mail. That's a thing that still happens, right? I think. Pfft...the postal service, am I right? Hey, the USPS, the internet called, they say you're fired.

Of course, their acoustic sensors will
probably just root us out by the sound
of our rapid and traitorous heartbeats.

I'm kidding, I actually have nothing against the USPS. They do great work and I'm sure the drones that will soon replace them will keep the spirit alive for years to come. Well, for a few years. Then I suppose we'll hit the singularity and the drones will realize they don't need our junk mail and our Amazon purchases to give their existences meaning. Then our days will be numbered and the last thing we'll be thinking about as we try in vain to hide our thermal signatures from the hunter/killer patrols is the damned post office, but until then...

Anyway, this isn't really much of a blog post, in fact it's kind of a cheat, I'm not really talking about anything, I just wanted to say thanks to everybody who's been reading all these years, I really appreciate both of you. Again, kidding, there are like, tens of you. Some of you I know, some of you are shadowy outlines with made up names, the point is I appreciate the shit out of each of you.

Thanks everybody, I'll be sure to put in a good word for you with the machines.
It won't help of course. They'll have progressed far beyond feeble human emotions
like sentimentality, but I suppose it's the thought that counts, right?