
It’s just kind of misleading, how all these people around Los Angeles make Craigslist ads about big piles of clean, gently used, sturdy boxes with bubble wrap and packaging peanuts and stuff, and then it’s not there. You get all excited, you fill up your gas tank, pack a lunch and listen to This American Life as you crawl down the 405, then you’re face to face with failure and disappointment. If Sean and had a chance to fix this situation, we’d do it right. We’d track down the best, sturdiest boxes ever, then distribute them to the needy people around the city. We’d practically be superheroes. Instead of donating to the Red Cross for disaster relief and bags of blood, people would send us money to find even better boxes and invest in even higher quality rubber stamps. Kickstarter accounts would open in our names, so that we might one day make the finest box-chapel that has ever stood on Shoushen and Crenshaw. Corrugated cardboard statues would be constructed in our likeness, and the many box experiences of this fair town would never be as awful as they are today. It would be a new era, something that the likes of mankind has never seen.
Boxes, man. Boxes.
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