April 16th, 2020
We only just launched the new site and already got our first fan letter! Saying we're thrilled would be the understatement of the millenium. Our first and only fan, Eric, sent us a message complimenting the new site using the feedback form:
My name's Eric and I just found your site horsefeathersmag.com.
It's got a lot going for it
– Eric, 2020
Thank you so much for your kind words, Eric! We love you and are so excited that you like our new site! We're very proud of it, so it really rubs our fragile, little egos the decidedly right way to hear
this.
Eric also offers some valuable feedback which we of course are immensely grateful for. As he says, he has "an idea to make [the website] even MORE effective."
Maybe this is gonna be the catalyst for our breakthrough – maybe we'll finally be able to pay the rent!
Eric then links to his lovely website which I would definitely say has a lot going for it. I wanted to write him back, but there was no contact form on the page – that made me sad;
I really wanted to be pen pals.
Now, my understanding of this whole World Wide Internet business is on par with a mole's eyesight, so I made our unpaid intern investigate Eric's proposal. After blowing our food budget for the next five months
on some Nigerian prince, he, much to my dismay, found that Eric's message was a scam!
…
After the initial shock and severe heart break had passed I could see it, too. How could you, Eric? How could you?! I thought we were friends!
What Eric suggests is to pay him for a widget where our visitors can put in their name, email address and phone number (maybe we can have him throw in a midget to capture blood type, fingerprints and semen as well?),
and then the widget will automatically send a text message to their phone – I came up with a great name for your product, Eric: "Annoy-o-Tron 5000" (just make sure to clear that with Blizzard); you
can have that one for free (any further bright ideas you'll have to pay for – check out our patreon).
Back in the day people used to show up at your door with this sort of shit. That's the whole reason we installed that trapdoor with the killer shark underneath it in the first place: to keep these friendship-faking,
perfunctory-conversation-having buttnuggets from pestering us! But they stopped showing up… wonder why… Now who's gonna feed that fucking fish?!
Look, Eric, we want your little arts and crafts project as much as a toddler wants brocolli – but try contacting the NSA; they'd love partnering up.
…
Huh? What's that? The mail was probably sent by a robot? Then why the hell did I write this?!
Fuck you, Eric.
Poll: Would you give Eric your phone number?
Cast your vote
Feel free to vote as many times as you want – democracy is dead anyways.
(Reload the page (press F5) to see updated results)