Anonymity: It’s not just for the Witness Protection Program anymore

So, you’re looking to achieve that special edge; that unique piece of something that positively screams, "Look at me, everybody! I’m different!" when the Great Unwashed take a gander at your personalized magnificence. I understand. It’s important to feel good about one’s self. It’s important to carve out you own niche in a carbon-copy society. I’m happy for you, Sparky.

Why, then, do you insist upon making this "unique" personal statement by adorning your not-so-unique body with the exact same old corporate logos that everybody else already bought on at Montgomery Ward’s going out of business forever sale? Did I miss something in the Thesaurus when I typed in unique? You know, something that might explain why there’s no such applicable word when it comes to what passes for "personal" fashion these days?

I don’t mean to be so dense, but exactly what part of the Nike logo makes people mistake you for Tiger Woods? Do the women go wild when your hat confirms that Bud is the King of Beers? Is it just me, or do all babies look "extra-special" cool when they’re wearing a Tommy Hillclimber… a Tommy Stickfigure… a Tommy Hipbreaker… a Tommy Stinkfinger… — Who is this asshole, anyway? — bib that matches Mommy and Daddy’s (if they’re still married… or ever were) bike shirts? Does that Chevy Suburban you’re driving really make your cup size one bigger, Sally? If I wore Polo After-Shave, Wally, would it make my penis an inch longer?

Yes, kiddies. You, too, can be an individual – just like every other swinging dick and tit on this planet. All you have to do is wear/drive/drink/watch this (fill in your own blank), and you can be an individual so utterly unique that you may only see yourself coming and going twenty-six times in a given day. Let’s all give a big cheer for Team You.

Now, if any of you actually do fit the above profile, I’d like to pose a quick question before continuing:

Why the fuck are you on the GoPostal website?

Seriously, you pathetic bunch of me-tooers. How did you ever find us? Surely you couldn’t have ever played POSTAL. And didn’t your mother tell you not to run with scissors? What, pray tell, is your major malfunction, Malcolm? Were you simply looking for quality wanking material and the infamous "Ass Button" sucked you in for a closer look? Don’t you know who we are?

Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’re new to the Web. I just assumed… Never mind. My bad.

If you don’t already know who we really are, you definitely belong somewhere else. You see, the Running With Scissors scene (do kids these days still call it a scene?) is NOT for the weak of heart. Hell, it may not even be for the strong of heart. As a matter of fact, it’s too intense (or are we supposed to say "edgy" nowadays?) for me. To put it into perspective, I was given a medical discharge during my second tour in Vietnam because I was waking up screaming when I dreamt of the staff meetings here – but that’s another story.

My point is, if you have a sincere need to remain anonymous in your day-to-day life, your surfing needs would probably be better served if you avoided us altogether. Running With Scissors isn’t exactly what one would call a place brimming over with "people persons" in the workplace. We don’t play well with others. We don’t want to. We don’t have to.

Of course, others do seem to play well with us, but a variety of studies have shown that there’s, well… there’s a long-winded medical term for it, but let’s just say there’s something "not quite right" with those folks. All I’m saying is that you might want to improve upon your anonymity somewhere where it will be better appreciated. Honest, we won’t hold it against you.

But whatever you decide to do with your incessant pointing and clicking, for God’s sake, stay far away from our store page. Trust me. What lives there isn’t for you. Your social anonymity is safe with the lovely ensemble you’re wearing today, so there should be no reason for you to want one of those. You see, if you were to wear one of those, people will suddenly show the disconcerting tendency to want to comment on your lifestyle – or offensively black sense of humor. Some may even spit on you if you don’t fall to your knees and apologize for your complete and utter lack of fashion decorum. It could get worse, too…

If you get caught wearing one and you’re a guy, women will think you’re a bad boy and want to make you forget your mother’s warm and nurturing company. If you’re a woman and you should be seen wearing one, the undoubtedly unfamiliar consequence of sexual dominance you initially experience could later prove degrading in the extreme. But, above all, never – and I do mean NEVER – attempt to mail a package or purchase range time while wearing one.

My friends, it simply ain’t worth the risk. Individualism isn’t for everyone. Displaying a penchant for even the most good-natured antisocial behavior isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, either. The road to Hell (or a Senate Hearing chamber) is paved with 100% cotton.

True, it may be fluffy and soft to the touch at first glance, but so’s a tampon. It’s much less messy and exasperating to travel the well-worn road to anonymity… the one that’s paved with polyester.


"I have not yet begun to defile myself."

Val Kilmer in Tombstone