You sit there at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering, “What’s Chip Zdarsky up to?” You turn in bed to face me, but my back is to you as always. It’s cold in the room. Too cold. So, you pull out your phone, hoping the light doesn’t wake me because you know the first thing I do when I wake is cry.
You go to this page and click “subscribe.” I’m still asleep, even though my phone pings at the sound of a new subscriber. You sigh in relief and look up some porn because hey, maybe that’ll help you fall asleep.