BLATANT PLEA FOR TRAFFIC

(cue sappy music) Here at the Death By Children reserve estate, we've been working day in and day out to improve the quality of our posts. Like fine wine, each article is carefully hand crafted according to a centuries old formula passed down from one generation to the next.

Each article starts with only the very best words, hand picked by Mr. Garlington himself with the same attention to detail, syntax, dialect and straight-up truck stop cussin' his father taught him. As these words are painstakingly strained through clenched jaws, they form sentences which in turn group naturally into paragraphs, which are layered and arranged in an organically aggregating batch referred to as a first draft.

First drafts are passed through a succession of finely woven sieves, removing unwanted pulp and debris from the original batch of words. This process is similar on all family-owned blogs--you've seen these picturesque sieves in countless old dutch paintings--and primarily deletes curse words, umlauts, and the rotting seeds which can make the final product bitter.

This process produces the well documented revision from which all our fine products are created (headlines, pull quotes, grappa, and prosaic descriptive clauses). A revision can be turned into just about anything. However, here at Death By Children, we focus on the classics and remain dutiful custodians of our regional Methode WTF?! for which we are world renowned.

But this letter is not to champion the world class word smithing occurring here at the DBC forge. No, this letter is to alert you to a crisis. Death By Children is facing a global market utterly glutted with vanity blogs. Every cubicle and easy chair on earth is now the desultory fiefdom of a snappy curmudgeon blogging endlessly under headlines such as "Barbara over in accounts payable ought to wear less spandex" or the overwhelmingly provincial "Anybody out there?" These kinds of amateurish ventures sap the market of genuine attention and those of us with a long history of forging ineluctable truths and nostriloprojectilic fart jokes suffer for it.

Although here at Death By Children, we support writers of all stripes (our "Write something you microencephalatic nimrod!" high school literacy program for developing self esteem recently received the Cruise-Travolta "Jesus That's Even Dumber Than Our Thing" medal of honor) we urge our readers to choose to only promote writing of the highest caliber and of the finest vintage.

Which is why Death By Children has instituted its first annual (and by annual we're talking dog years so expect this about once a month) Email Everyone In Your Address Book About Deathbychildren OK? OK! (or, EEIYABADABADOO) promotional campaign.

For every person you bring into the Death By Children family of hand crafted letters, we'll write a letter to the Pope telling him he wears a funny hat but his dress sure is pretty.

Seriously. We had them printed.

So just do a mass mailing directing your friends, acquaintances, annoying cousins, former employees, stalkers, junk mail demons, ex-boyfriends, book editors from large publishing houses, and spam redirects to Death By Children.

Thank you;

The Death By Children Family of Fine Letters