norman's not funny

On Monday, April 18, 2005, at 03:27 AM, you wrote:

Are you serious about DY?

I was going to reply with an uber-hot flaming rip of
an email explaining that this was just a joke that you perhaps did not
get.

Then I received another email someone else congratulating me on the DY
gig.

This is why I am not getting paid to write humor.

It reminds me of a story. Want to hear it? 'goes like this.

I used to work for a company which did not have a dress code.
Generally, that was ok, but sometimes people really went too far. One
day, Melissa came to work in denim cut-offs, a white t-shirt, and
grungy tennis shoes sans socks. Melissa was an
actress/model whose appearance was generally very professional. I
forget what her explanation was for the slumming--I was way too busy
making fun of her. The next day while Will, the Chief Operating
Officer, was out of his office, I snuck in and composed an email from
him to the whole group explaining the new dress code. I peppered the
email with all kinds of absurdities (so I thought) to indicate the
joke. At one point I used Melissa as an illustration of how not to
dress and used myself as an illustration of how to dress. I said that
"I" (Will) was going to hire "Jason" to be "my" personal fashion
consultant. I figured that by the end it would be very clear that
Jason was typing from Will's machine.

I was stunned by the number of people who almost did not get it. What
was even funnier was the number of people who only realized it was a
joke when they reached the very last line, which read, "Love, Will."
That was the give-away, which was bizarre because Will is a very
loving guy. For instance, even after that email, I was allowed to
keep my job.