Tuesday, December 04, 2007

The Official Ransom Note Typography Privacy Policy

By viewing this website via your web browser, peeking over my shoulder as I write (which is super annoying and I wish you’d stop), a feed reader, or absorbing the data from the ether on your new “Web 3.0 iPhone-a-go-go;” you hereby agree to the following Privacy Policy:

We know your IP address. We know where you live. We know that the odds are high that you aren’t wearing pants right now.

We are totally cool with that. Odds are astonishingly high that we aren’t wearing pants either. Pants are for wimps.

We know what browser you are using and though we silently mock and curse you for using IE 5, we believe that you would upgrade if possible, because you are fabulous like that. We know you aren’t using that ancient pile of crappy code just to spite anyone. We’re cool with it, but as soon as you can or the uptight weenies in I.T. relent, get yourself a copy of Firefox, or even Safari, which will blow the I.T. weenies’ Star Wars quoting minds.

We here at Ransom Note Typography World HQ (a hollowed out volcano somewhere in the South Pacific) reserve the following rights, with regard to any information we gather about you, beloved and fetchingly attractive reader:

If you piss us off, we reserve the right to sell your email address to the highest bidder, or if you really torque us off, we’ll just hand your email address over to the Man-Boy Love Association or the Republican Party, though sometimes it’s difficult to tell the difference.

At any given moment, you agree to have us over to your house for pie or strudel. We like pie a lot, but have lately been thinking that a nice strudel never hurt anyone.

You agree to give us your cell phone number so we can call you in a twitchy haze at 3 AM and beg you to have us back. (This is especially true if you are one of our ex-girlfriends.)

If we know your IM account, expect a random stream of inane messages from us mere SECONDS after you appear online. ("Hey!", “How are you?!”, “What’s up?!”, “Have you tried to upgrade to Leopard yet?!” “Isn’t Bush a dork?!”, “What do you think of the new Radiohead?! Isn’t it AWESOME?!") We also use far more emoticons in IM than are strictly necessary and you hereby agree not to deride us for the animated, bouncing smilie faces we are prone to using to drive home our frivolous points.

Though it isn’t required by this Privacy Policy Agreement, it’d be swell if you would buy us a new HD TV.

Do NOT, under any circumstances, send us your credit card information. Otherwise you are likely to find many, many ebay beanie baby purchases, because we just need a couple more to complete our collection.

The “unsubscribe” function on the newsletter is broken. Right now, clicking the “unsubscribe me, for the love of all that is holy, UNSUBSCRIBE!!” link adds your email address into the database three more times. We are working on it. Apologies.

All the information we collect is kept in a secure location: written in light pink ink on red construction paper in a folder labeled “Misc. Recipes—asparagus gazpacho,” hidden under my bronzed baby booties in a file cabinet covered in “Danger! Biowaste!” stickers in a storage unit in Erda, UT. (Note, NO MORE NEW READERS, PLEASE! I can’t keep making that trip to Erda every other day.)

We use Browser Cookies to keep track of your every move on this site. Hey! You! The one without the pants! You were about to click the “close window” button! Take your hands OFF the mouse right now, missy!

If you do not agree to these terms (especially that one about the pie!), please re-consider.

Favorite Entries

If you are new around here, the following entries have been reasonably well received. You might want to peruse these.

• Partners
• Correspondence
• Help Wanted
• From the Office of Mis-directed Email
• A Word from the Small Person in the House
• RNT Product Review: Chocolate Mix Skittles Left Me Sterile!
• Jon’s Report Card circa… A Long Time Ago
• Dear Gratuitously Naked Conversationalist at the Gym:
• A Peek Inside the Writer’s Guild and Producers’ Negotiations
• We Regret the Error
• Letters from a Homeowner to His General Contractor
• What I Did There
• Hermaphrodite Administrative Assistants and Receptionists Need Not Apply
• Giving Me an IM Account Was Obviously a Huge Mistake
• Official Ransom Note Typography Vista vs. Mac OS X Shootout
• I Need a Real Hobby
• Beat Down
• Big Fat Lies
• True Love
• Now MY Ovaries Hurt
• Don’t Get Her Started
• Disturbing Trend
• Had to do it
• Mooshy stuff
• Ransom Note Typography End User License Agreement “EULA”
• Diva-licious!
• Just so we’re clear
• PETA may have a point

Holy Crap! Look at all this STUFF down here. It's awesome!

Really, I'm glad you made it down here. Almost no one ever comes down here. I'm like in a freaking dungeon down here. I get lonely. But not you. YOU made it all the way to the end of the page. For this I think I've a little crush on you. I don't know, is "love" to strong a word to use in this situation? Well, if it's not "love," then it's very strong "like." I'm totally in like with you for coming down here. You are awesome. Please love me back! I know, I know, I shouldn't be all needy, it's not attractive at all, but you don't know how it is to be stuck down here. Who scrolls all the way to the end of a page anymore these days? Anyway, thanks for shedding some light down here in the depths. I appreciate it. Shoot me an email and I'll send you a dollar, OK?

©2005-2009 Jon B. Deal All Rights Reserved. I'm not kidding around here, I know people who know other people who would be willing to beat you up or similarly infringe on your rights, should you happen to infringe on my rights.