Going Postal on the Post Office

Not everyone knows their job. Especially, if they’re some government worker that can only be relieved of their gig because of death by volcanic eruption. I knew better but I let this incompetent statuette convince me that I had been using too much postage on my postcards for a year. She sells me 33 cent stamps.

Actually, it’s 34 cents for postcards. Insufficient postage. My design makes it difficult to read the return address. I’m curious how many of these dead cards walking are going to make their way back home. Marketing screeching to a halt because of the chain reaction. Fun times, baby bubba.

Go get FunKy!

Go get FunKy!

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