Receiving Me? is proud to announce its newest columnist: the gifted Colin Ydig. Mr. Ydig did not apply to be a staff writer, but rather was asked to join the team after writing a letter to the editor that was far more eloquent than anything previously seen in the annals of this erudite publication. Now, the cutthroat employees of Receiving Me? considered dispatching their trained assassin, Svetlana, to quiet this ninja of letters, but a third grader who was listening in on the conversation advised: “keep your friends close, but your enemies closer”. This suggestion was ignored out of hand; however, the staff did purchase some wonderfully fragrant Cuban cigars from the munchkin. While puffing on these nirvana sticks, strange and wonderful thoughts began to enter their compromised minds: Athletic Support columnist, Brett Harsch, who was especially enamored of the experience, began chanting snippets from the human sacrifice scene in Temple of Doom; Editor and Chief, Bernard Bygott, grew very long hair which he began to throw from side to side in spastic rhythms while declaring that Tora Tora would soon rise again. Fondamenta degli Ormesini contributor, Andrea Aguzzi, began writing long essays in English all over his body while simultaneously conjugating some of most irregular verbs in German and Sanskrit. But perhaps most shocking of all, co-founder, Leslie Fox, acted completely and totally normal– behavior that later, the entire staff agreed, they all hoped to never see again. Despite Fox’s outlandish behavior, and just before Mr. Harsh was about to tear his own heart from his own chest cavity, a great, deep, James-Earl-Jones-sounding voice was heard from the heavens above, that declared: “I am your father! You don’t know the power of the dark side! Can you feel the Love tonight?” These words immediately short-circuited the entire experience, as the staff was forced to acknowledge that they had indeed “heard God”, and he was in fact: “that cool”. And so it was in this moment, as waterfalls of tears flowed in the immeasurable quantities created by early Johnny Depp films, that the staff remembered something else the third grader had said: “Don’t inhale! This shit will mess you up!” But at this point it was far too late to go back; the staff was hooked like any American man watching Telemundo game shows “by accident”– powers are at work that deny rational behavior. But there was a general feeling in the room that something should be done about this religious epiphany; so when Mr. Aguzzi (the first to break from the trance, being the least vulnerable-having developed potent protective barriers to pleasure while watching Italian TV hostesses) came to, he immediately called Mr. Ydig, asking him in perfect Japanese to, “Come over here and help me sort out these silly American lightweights!” Mr. Aguzzi assumed Ydig was Japanese, given his “exotic last name”. As it turns out, Mr. Ydig’s ancestry is unknown, even to himself. We welcome him anyway, and hope he brings cigars!

Sayonara!