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Letter From The Editor

A spunky client has brought to our attention the fact that this is the first O.P. edition in nearly six months. For the record, we hate spunk. Also for the record, we’ve had other things occupying our time, like DOING THINGS FOR OUR CLIENTS! That being said, here are a few excuses we will offer for your consideration. Feel free to mix and match them as you see fit—they are, in the end, just excuses.

We forgot.
Avian flu—it’s going around. Who knew that the chicken coughing up a lung in the backyard wouldn’t be, as Gramma says, “good eatin’?”
The dog ate it.
We were so entranced by this season’s “Dancing with the Stars,” we didn’t have time to keep up with simple personal hygiene, much less write crap that makes you chuckle.
Writer’s block.
Solar flares—we don’t know how they work, and we’re pretty damn sure you don’t either.
Athlete’s foot.
We were too busy with libel litigation from the recent publication of our Super Partners page to do anything else but rehearse our cross-examination with our lawyers.
Traffic was a nightmare.
Barack Obama was holding a press conference.
Also, most of you probably don’t realize just how taxing it is to get a copy of the O.P. “to bed.” First, we have to stay up waaay past our bedtimes—right to that moment of sleep deprivation where you’re real “punchy.” Then we down about 17 Red Bulls® and chase that with half a bottle of Nyquil®. But that’s just a primer. From there it’s a trade-secret combination of absinthe, peyote, mescaline, ether and a whole galaxy of multicolored uppers, downers, screamers and laughers.

We really can’t tell you what happens next, as it’s very difficult to separate the hallucinogenic “trips” from actual events of the night. Suffice it to say, we sleep for about 48 hours following the O.P. publication.

So there you have it, OK? Now get off our backs, enjoy the next 15-30 minutes while you read this edition and do little to no real work. We’re sure your boss/shareholders understand.

Now, in the words of Ronald Reagan, it’s time for my nap.

Sincerely,

El Queso Grande, Chief Editor in Chief - The Original Pickle.

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