It’s not you. It’s me. I’m old and poor and it seems like Social Security stretches less far every month.
I’d pay all of you if I could. If I subscribe or follow, I find value in your work. I just don’t have any money for that sort of thing now that I can’t work anymore.
I really appreciate you folks who don’t lock me out with paywalls. You guys are like Banksy - sharing your creations freely with everyone and helping make the world a more beautiful place. If I ever won the lottery, I would spend part of it on a paid subscription to everyone I follow.
So I like your writing exactly because it is unpredictable and fragmented and yet illuminating. Like shining a light around a cave — here’s a stalactite, over there’s an underground pool, over there’s a vein of ore, and over there are some glittery crystals that took decades to form. Yet it’s all part of the same cave.
There are people, of course, who only like to look at stalactites wherever they might be, and that’s fine. Let them. When I find a writer whose work means a lot to me, whatever they write becomes interesting because it’s another aspect of the cave. So I’m not going anywhere.
It is hard to imagine, and yet…it does appear to be the case. I look at all the depictions of happy family gatherings on Hallmark and wonder if they are sci fi,
I finished. I read it all. Just like always. Once I start I’m still looking for the joke, so there is no stopping.
I am going to call Jerry Lee Lewis aka Nick Kenbrandt’s 408.365.4420 phone number. Too irresistible not to try . 🙏🏻 thank you, your brilliance IS brilliantly funny.
I love All the stuff your mind lights upon. Not too many out in substackland can make me laugh - definitely looking for the joke at all times - humor is an art. Yay for diversity (oops, one of those now forbidden words), the world is a big strange place with so many thoughts for curious at heart. I'm staying for it all and, the comments too. Your faithful followers can make me laugh too.
Your writing is always funny. Reading the open rates... it's like, the same compulsion that makes you write and share your work, that compels you to keep checking the reach.
I always read your whole newsletter because it is great. But I have friends and other accounts I subscribe to, and sometimes I just open them because I want to bring the writer joy, but can't bring myself to read the thing because I am a selfish jerk.
I would read a post you wrote about belly-button lint. Or nuclear rearmament. Virtually anything—because the way you write and your insights are wonderful. Do whatever the hell you want, because it is always good.
It’s not you. It’s me. I’m old and poor and it seems like Social Security stretches less far every month.
I’d pay all of you if I could. If I subscribe or follow, I find value in your work. I just don’t have any money for that sort of thing now that I can’t work anymore.
I really appreciate you folks who don’t lock me out with paywalls. You guys are like Banksy - sharing your creations freely with everyone and helping make the world a more beautiful place. If I ever won the lottery, I would spend part of it on a paid subscription to everyone I follow.
Likewise
You are so damn funny. Write about whatever you want! I'm never leaving.
I'm trying to wrap my mind around the realtor. I may not get any sleep tonight
And you also can make me laugh!
So I like your writing exactly because it is unpredictable and fragmented and yet illuminating. Like shining a light around a cave — here’s a stalactite, over there’s an underground pool, over there’s a vein of ore, and over there are some glittery crystals that took decades to form. Yet it’s all part of the same cave.
There are people, of course, who only like to look at stalactites wherever they might be, and that’s fine. Let them. When I find a writer whose work means a lot to me, whatever they write becomes interesting because it’s another aspect of the cave. So I’m not going anywhere.
So many people didn’t have an alcoholic narcissist parent and it shows.
It is hard to imagine, and yet…it does appear to be the case. I look at all the depictions of happy family gatherings on Hallmark and wonder if they are sci fi,
I finished. I read it all. Just like always. Once I start I’m still looking for the joke, so there is no stopping.
I am going to call Jerry Lee Lewis aka Nick Kenbrandt’s 408.365.4420 phone number. Too irresistible not to try . 🙏🏻 thank you, your brilliance IS brilliantly funny.
I love the diversity of your Substack posts!
Speaking from the depths of Substack obsession, this is brilliant.
Loved you in Hacks! And I, too, write about different stuff every week. Maybe we need a category called Eclectic Mishmash. Sensory Smorgasbord.
EMSS. If we add idiosyncratic in there we can spell EMISS. Not sure if that helps or makes it more puzzling
Now we just have to relentlessly lobby Substack for our category.
I love All the stuff your mind lights upon. Not too many out in substackland can make me laugh - definitely looking for the joke at all times - humor is an art. Yay for diversity (oops, one of those now forbidden words), the world is a big strange place with so many thoughts for curious at heart. I'm staying for it all and, the comments too. Your faithful followers can make me laugh too.
I love it all. I have no idea how I got here, but that’s part of the allure I suppose. I love dogs and squirrels.
Your writing is always funny. Reading the open rates... it's like, the same compulsion that makes you write and share your work, that compels you to keep checking the reach.
I always read your whole newsletter because it is great. But I have friends and other accounts I subscribe to, and sometimes I just open them because I want to bring the writer joy, but can't bring myself to read the thing because I am a selfish jerk.
You're the best!
THANK you, Frank4. That means a lot to me!!
Maybe narcissistic dogs who never put away their gourds?
Staying. That’s all.
I love whatever your creative brain conjures. I had something else to say, but that Jerry Lee Lewis- imitator-turned-realtor knocked it out of me.
I would read a post you wrote about belly-button lint. Or nuclear rearmament. Virtually anything—because the way you write and your insights are wonderful. Do whatever the hell you want, because it is always good.