Today's morning meeting was not my finest hour. First pitch? POOP. Bear with me here. Wired magazine is turning fifteen this year, and for the last nine, they've run a contest called Return to Sender. The challenge is simple: mail the weirdest thing you can to Wired, without using a box or an envelope. Each issue featured a winner, and the most prolific contestant, Barry Wood of Vero Beach, FL, entered a dozen times, winning twice for a mailbox and a conch shell. Check out a gallery of submissions here. So where does the POOP come in? Don't worry, it's not where you think. Turns out Wood had long been running a similar contest among his friends, "encouraging [them] to flummox the Postal Service by sending unusual items he called "permissible objects of postability," or POOP." It's a natural for our air, and today we're hoping to ask the question, "What's the weirdest thing you've ever successfully mailed sans packing materials?" But the scatalogical snickers don't end there... I followed that pitch up with one I received from Harper's Magazine, about an upcoming article by a writer who took a class that promised to teach him how to control dice to win at craps.
I swear, I couldn't make this stuff up.