First, let me apologize. I know, world, that something has been missing. I know, world, that you’ve been lost. I also know, world, how you’ve longed for me. Of course I know.
It’s just, I’ve been very busy. The important and powerful can’t just coach themselves when it comes to life matters, can they? Not even close… they need Ed Honcho. And their fiscal influence is astounding, world, it’s just astounding. You understand, right?
What matters is that I’m here now. And sure, my love can be tough, but it’s for your own good. So it’s time to shape up. No more letting things slide, no more uninformed opinions, no more passive-aggressive pandering, and most importantly, no more Fatheads. That’s right, if you’re over the age of 12, you’re not allowed to have a Fathead on your wall. I know they’re awesome, and damnet, I wish they were around when we were kids too. But they weren’t. It’s time to move on. Hey, I wish Yo Gabba Gabba was around when we were kids… God, how I wish it was around… but it wasn’t, so you won’t find Plex dolls on my bed at home, though…sigh… sometimes it might be nice, you know?
Now, ostensibly, this is a sports site, but try not to think of it that way. Instead, think of it as a life site. This is especially pertinent if your life is sports, but also plays well for trendsetters, jetsetters, Irish setters (underestimate their intelligence at your own risk) and generally, the person on the go.
So enough of this, let’s get to our very first, daily mailbag…
