The Son of God wants the Son of Ruddy Ruddy
Well, this one ought to be good: The latest piece of mail plucked from the pile (a rather thick one) comes from CBH Ministries of Grand Rapids, Michigan, and is addressed to "DONOR ID: 152452 RUDDY RUDDY". Think they're coming to Ruddy Ruddy with their hand out? Think they'll get anything?
Well, if it's a plea for Ruddy Ruddy to exhibit the Christian virtue of charity, it's not an overly blatant one, as it turns out. Inside the envelope is an issue of Keys for Kids: FUN-SIZED daily devotionals just for kids! (If you've ever wondered exactly how big fun is, fun-size seems to be about one 5½" x 8½" page).
But this doesn't seem to be just any issue of Keys for Kids -- it's a special birthday issue! The cover reads
Well, if it's a plea for Ruddy Ruddy to exhibit the Christian virtue of charity, it's not an overly blatant one, as it turns out. Inside the envelope is an issue of Keys for Kids: FUN-SIZED daily devotionals just for kids! (If you've ever wondered exactly how big fun is, fun-size seems to be about one 5½" x 8½" page).
But this doesn't seem to be just any issue of Keys for Kids -- it's a special birthday issue! The cover reads
IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY...
SO BLOW OUT THE CANDLES!
LET YOUR LIGHT SHINE--MARCH 6
It looks like we've just learned something new: If the cover of Keys for Kids is to be believed, Ruddy Ruddy's birthday is March 6.
Now, I'm not sure where they plucked that date from. The whole Ruddy Ruddy thing began when I signed up for something or other online, and when I sign up for things online and want to remain anonymous, I falsify a lot of the information -- aside from using the fake name "Ruddy Ruddy", I've also done my part to make "90210" the most oft-submitted zip code in cyberspace -- but I don't falsify everything. My birthday is April 8, and that's what I usually give out, since there's no harm in doing that. So, I'd have thought that Ruddy Ruddy's birthday would be April 8, but if CBH Ministries says it's March 6, who am I to argue? After all, they have God on their side. (But on the other hand, they seem to think Ruddy Ruddy is about eight years old.)
Anyway, far from being a plea for alms, Keys for Kids is available for subscription at no cost. And you're getting good value for that price: Each issue contains two months' worth of daily readings. "These fun stories will help you discover who God wants you to be," vows page 2. Of course, it also promises "Our mailing lists are confidential and are not sold or used for commercial purposes" in small type at the bottom, so considering how Ruddy Ruddy's address has been bought and sold in the past, I'll let you decide whether or not to trust page 2.
There are sixty devotionals in the issue, but if I'm going to share just one, none could be better than the one for Ruddy Ruddy's birthday, March 6. Here goes:
But to make up for all this, here are some chicken riddles, courtesy of Keys for Kids!
SO BLOW OUT THE CANDLES!
LET YOUR LIGHT SHINE--MARCH 6
It looks like we've just learned something new: If the cover of Keys for Kids is to be believed, Ruddy Ruddy's birthday is March 6.
Now, I'm not sure where they plucked that date from. The whole Ruddy Ruddy thing began when I signed up for something or other online, and when I sign up for things online and want to remain anonymous, I falsify a lot of the information -- aside from using the fake name "Ruddy Ruddy", I've also done my part to make "90210" the most oft-submitted zip code in cyberspace -- but I don't falsify everything. My birthday is April 8, and that's what I usually give out, since there's no harm in doing that. So, I'd have thought that Ruddy Ruddy's birthday would be April 8, but if CBH Ministries says it's March 6, who am I to argue? After all, they have God on their side. (But on the other hand, they seem to think Ruddy Ruddy is about eight years old.)
Anyway, far from being a plea for alms, Keys for Kids is available for subscription at no cost. And you're getting good value for that price: Each issue contains two months' worth of daily readings. "These fun stories will help you discover who God wants you to be," vows page 2. Of course, it also promises "Our mailing lists are confidential and are not sold or used for commercial purposes" in small type at the bottom, so considering how Ruddy Ruddy's address has been bought and sold in the past, I'll let you decide whether or not to trust page 2.
There are sixty devotionals in the issue, but if I'm going to share just one, none could be better than the one for Ruddy Ruddy's birthday, March 6. Here goes:
Well ... that story was weird. The real moral, I think, is that a good practical joke is spoiled when the perpetrators suddenly get all churchy on you and act like their prank has some great moral or theological meaning. Way to spoil the mood, Mom. And equally off-putting is the fact that Jenny wishes that all her days would be as happy as this one and then fails to blow out the candles, meaning that this day will be the high point of her life, which is really kind of sad.Burning Candles
Read: Romans 8:35-39
Jenny was so excited that she could hardly sit still as she waited, eyes closed, for Mom to bring in her birthday cake. "Okay, sweetie! Open your eyes!" said Dad at last.
Jenny blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light created by the glowing candles on top of the most beautiful birthday cake she had ever seen! Nine colorful frosting angels each held a flickering candle. "Make a wish and blow the candles out!" said Dad with a smile.
Closing her eyes again, Jenny made a secret wish that all her days would be as happy as this one! She opened her eyes and blew out the candles. But as she reached for the cake knife, she saw that, somehow, every candle had started burning again! "Look! The candles!" exclaimed Jenny. "I thought that I blew them out, but they all strted up again!" Dad tried not to laugh.
"Better blow them out again, Jenny!" suggested Mom.
Jenny took a deep breath and blew extra hard this time. Once again all the candles went out, but as she watched, one by one they sparked and soon were burning again. Jenny was speechless!
Her father burst into laughter. "Got ya, Jenny," he teased. "We put special candles on your cake! They're made so that no matter how hard you try to blow the light out, it will always come back!"
"Sort of like the light that burns within us when we know Jesus as Savior," said Mom. "No matter how Satan tries to blow it out, God never allows it to go out."
Both Jenny and Dad tried to blow the candles out a few more times. They laughed together as the lights kept coming back.
How About You? Are you a Christian? If so, you were chosen by God as His "special candle" to share His light--Jesus--with others. Have you been doing that? Satan would like to put your light out, but he can't. God won't let anything separate you from Himself. Thank Him for that, and let your light shine brightly for Him every day!
Key Verse:
"Let your light so shine before men, that
they may see your good works and glorify
your Father in Heaven."
-Matthew 5:16
Shine for Jesus
But to make up for all this, here are some chicken riddles, courtesy of Keys for Kids!
Is chicken soup good for your health?
Not if you're the chicken!
Why did the indecisive chicken cross the road?
To get to the other side...er, no--to go shopping...no--to go to the beach...
Why did the chicken end up in the soup?
Because it ran out of cluck!
Why did the chicken cross the playground?
To get to the other slide.
Why did the chicken cross the road halfway?
It wanted to lay it on the line.
Why did the chicken cross the basketball court?
He heard the referee calling fowls.
Thursday, July 29, 2004
Enchantress update: second invoice found (and ignored, naturally)
As I said below:
It was June 15, actually; I finally found that second letter from Enchantress Hosiery of Canada, which turned up in a pile of my regular mail across the room from the trove of Ruddiness. (That is, the letter turned up in the mail pile -- not Enchantress Hosiery itself.) It says, tersely:
So it didn't take them long to start getting a little nasty. I'm tempted to take the self-addressed envelope that Enchantress included with the hopes that it might be sent back containing a cheque, and send it back containing a slip of paper with the words FUCK OFF written in big block letters.
But Miss Ruddy Ruddy wouldn't do that. She's a lady.
... no second invoice could be found, although one would guess that it must have been mailed out around June 13 or 14.
It was June 15, actually; I finally found that second letter from Enchantress Hosiery of Canada, which turned up in a pile of my regular mail across the room from the trove of Ruddiness. (That is, the letter turned up in the mail pile -- not Enchantress Hosiery itself.) It says, tersely:
Dear Miss Ruddy,
A month ago we reminded you that you owed us $24.64 for your introductory shipment.
We have still not received your payment. Please pay your account now.
So it didn't take them long to start getting a little nasty. I'm tempted to take the self-addressed envelope that Enchantress included with the hopes that it might be sent back containing a cheque, and send it back containing a slip of paper with the words FUCK OFF written in big block letters.
But Miss Ruddy Ruddy wouldn't do that. She's a lady.
Thursday, July 22, 2004
Enchantress Hosiery of Canada: A new foe
As my few remaining readers know, I've all but ignored Ruddy Ruddy over the last three months, during which time I was in training for a body transformation contest (which I won). The mail does not stop, however, and it turns out that the last three months have been a more interesting time for Ruddy Ruddy than I had realized.
When I got home from work today, there was an envelope for Miss Ruddy Ruddy sitting on the kitchen table. This piece of mail was particularly compelling because it didn't identify the sender at all, but was emblazoned with the words "FIRST CLASS MAIL" under the return address (which was the mysterious P.O. Box 5200, Scarborough, Ontario). Knowing that nothing good has ever come out of Scarborough -- a suburban wasteland that has vomited out the likes of the Barenaked Ladies and Eric McCormack of Will and Grace -- it was with a mixture of fascination and trepidation that I tore open this inscrutable envelope.
To my surprise, it was an invoice from Enchantress Hosiery of Canada demanding payment of $24.64. What's more, it was actually a third notice -- dated July 13 -- demanding payment of this past-due amount within the next 15 days. On the whole, it was a classier, more professional dunning letter than one you could expect from the likes of, say, the Reader Center, but of course they won't be getting a dime from Miss Ruddy Ruddy.
But I was curious: Do the employees of a Canadian hosiery company have to endure being incessantly referred to as "hosers" until it just isn't funny anymore? And more importantly, what had I missed over the last three months? Rooting through my pile of unopened Ruddy Ruddy mail (and I will apologize right now for the existence of a pile of unopened Ruddy Ruddy mail, but I've been busy, and it'll all be opened in due time), I found an envelope that looked identical to the first one, which, come to think of it, is probably actually the third one. I opened this other one. It, too, was an invoice, dated May 14.
"Dear Miss Ruddy," it began. "Several weeks ago we sent you a specially priced introductory shipment of our hosiery (see above details). Our records indicate we have not yet received your payment for this shipment. Please pay your account now, while you are thinking about it." Then it offered three easy ways to pay. This seemed to have been the first invoice; no second invoice could be found, although one would guess that it must have been mailed out around June 13 or 14. But where was this hosiery?
Curiouser and curiouser. I dug through the pile of mail again, eventually uncovering -- sure enough -- a vacuum-sealed package of hosiery dated Feb 28. (It looks like my mail pile has been building longer than I've thought.) "Enjoy your FREE SAMPLE of Enchantress Pantyhose with our compliments!" said the package. Risibly, the company refers to itself as "The 'No Obligation To Buy' Hosiery Service" in the letter inside, which explains that three more pairs of the same hose would be sent within the next six weeks (on approval only) and that the recipient could change her selection on the change of order form and return the next shipment with no further obligation. A look at the change of order form showed that it couldn't be used to change one's order to "none", but only to different varieties and colours. And who would have to pay for the return of this next shipment, if it wasn't wanted -- the sender or the recipient? But since the next shipment was to come on approval only, and no such approval was given, then there shouldn't have been any need to worry about any more life-complicating hosiery arriving, right?
I returned to the May 14 invoice. Under the three easy ways to pay, the letter explained more: "Your introductory shipment followed the FREE SAMPLE we sent to you earlier, and we'd like to thank you again for deciding to give our hosiery service a try." I looked at the "above details" that had been mentioned earlier. Another package of hosiery had been sent on April 6, or so they claimed.
I rooted through the pile of mail again. There weren't any more shipments of hosiery. If they did mail it out, it never arrived. Perhaps someone swiped it in transit. My female housemates are too honest (and butch) to steal hosiery, though. Is there something I should know about my mailman?
Whether this package was stolen or not, it's clear who the real crooks are: Enchantress Hosiery of Canada, who are pulling the same sleazy shenanigans as the Reader Service, if not worse. (And since they readily identify themselves as a member of the Canadian Marketing Association, there's someone to complain to about their tactics.) Miss Ruddy Ruddy never asked for a free sample, never bothered opening the one that arrived, and never approved any further shipments, which -- in any case -- didn't show up. And now they're trying to hose (so to speak) Miss Ruddy Ruddy for $24.64. This so-called Enchantress is no more than an unscrupulous, snake-oil-selling mountebank.
When I got home from work today, there was an envelope for Miss Ruddy Ruddy sitting on the kitchen table. This piece of mail was particularly compelling because it didn't identify the sender at all, but was emblazoned with the words "FIRST CLASS MAIL" under the return address (which was the mysterious P.O. Box 5200, Scarborough, Ontario). Knowing that nothing good has ever come out of Scarborough -- a suburban wasteland that has vomited out the likes of the Barenaked Ladies and Eric McCormack of Will and Grace -- it was with a mixture of fascination and trepidation that I tore open this inscrutable envelope.
To my surprise, it was an invoice from Enchantress Hosiery of Canada demanding payment of $24.64. What's more, it was actually a third notice -- dated July 13 -- demanding payment of this past-due amount within the next 15 days. On the whole, it was a classier, more professional dunning letter than one you could expect from the likes of, say, the Reader Center, but of course they won't be getting a dime from Miss Ruddy Ruddy.
But I was curious: Do the employees of a Canadian hosiery company have to endure being incessantly referred to as "hosers" until it just isn't funny anymore? And more importantly, what had I missed over the last three months? Rooting through my pile of unopened Ruddy Ruddy mail (and I will apologize right now for the existence of a pile of unopened Ruddy Ruddy mail, but I've been busy, and it'll all be opened in due time), I found an envelope that looked identical to the first one, which, come to think of it, is probably actually the third one. I opened this other one. It, too, was an invoice, dated May 14.
"Dear Miss Ruddy," it began. "Several weeks ago we sent you a specially priced introductory shipment of our hosiery (see above details). Our records indicate we have not yet received your payment for this shipment. Please pay your account now, while you are thinking about it." Then it offered three easy ways to pay. This seemed to have been the first invoice; no second invoice could be found, although one would guess that it must have been mailed out around June 13 or 14. But where was this hosiery?
Curiouser and curiouser. I dug through the pile of mail again, eventually uncovering -- sure enough -- a vacuum-sealed package of hosiery dated Feb 28. (It looks like my mail pile has been building longer than I've thought.) "Enjoy your FREE SAMPLE of Enchantress Pantyhose with our compliments!" said the package. Risibly, the company refers to itself as "The 'No Obligation To Buy' Hosiery Service" in the letter inside, which explains that three more pairs of the same hose would be sent within the next six weeks (on approval only) and that the recipient could change her selection on the change of order form and return the next shipment with no further obligation. A look at the change of order form showed that it couldn't be used to change one's order to "none", but only to different varieties and colours. And who would have to pay for the return of this next shipment, if it wasn't wanted -- the sender or the recipient? But since the next shipment was to come on approval only, and no such approval was given, then there shouldn't have been any need to worry about any more life-complicating hosiery arriving, right?
I returned to the May 14 invoice. Under the three easy ways to pay, the letter explained more: "Your introductory shipment followed the FREE SAMPLE we sent to you earlier, and we'd like to thank you again for deciding to give our hosiery service a try." I looked at the "above details" that had been mentioned earlier. Another package of hosiery had been sent on April 6, or so they claimed.
I rooted through the pile of mail again. There weren't any more shipments of hosiery. If they did mail it out, it never arrived. Perhaps someone swiped it in transit. My female housemates are too honest (and butch) to steal hosiery, though. Is there something I should know about my mailman?
Whether this package was stolen or not, it's clear who the real crooks are: Enchantress Hosiery of Canada, who are pulling the same sleazy shenanigans as the Reader Service, if not worse. (And since they readily identify themselves as a member of the Canadian Marketing Association, there's someone to complain to about their tactics.) Miss Ruddy Ruddy never asked for a free sample, never bothered opening the one that arrived, and never approved any further shipments, which -- in any case -- didn't show up. And now they're trying to hose (so to speak) Miss Ruddy Ruddy for $24.64. This so-called Enchantress is no more than an unscrupulous, snake-oil-selling mountebank.
