Letters from LA LA
I'm like a proud father. Today is my last day in the mailroom, and I see my fledgling agent chickies begin to sprout the wings that will eventually lead them out of the Mailroom nest and into the wild blue yonder that is the Biz of Show. Sure, right now they're all fighting for whatever offerings the assistants may regurgitate and feed their scrawny featherless beaks, but inside beats the heart of an eagle, or maybe a duck, in some cases a cassowary. A giant lumbering oafish creature with razor sharp claws and a pea-sized brain. The strange thing about cassowary females is they are attracted to human male phermones, resulting in the hilarious accidental humping of unsuspecting men in the Australian bush. Truly, it is a marvel to see the similarities between our avian friends in the wild, and our boys and girls in the pits of the south building.
Cute and feathery as the world of the mailroom may be, and forgive me as I get Attenboroughesque, there is nothing quite as bizarre, grotesque and glorious as the marsupial world of the assistant. Mammals that lay eggs, Marsupials,
(From the Latin "Marsu", meaning "what the" and "Pial" meaning "Fuuuuck?")
range from the toady, and slightly venomous Echidna, to the Large and graceful Red Kangaroo. And so do the sorry assistants. Overworked and underpaid, these poor accidents of nature have adapted to suit the harsh environment. Surrounded by the most taxing circumstances, many of them have evolved in bizarre ways, almost contrary to nature. With claws, feathers, fur and whiskers , one could almost call the assistant...er... Marsupial a link between Man and Reptile.
One thing I've realized as I take my next step, is that despite the bizarre and sad world the assistants may inhabit, the Mailroom, is for the birds.