Dear Sir or Madam or most likely a disintegrating heap of bleached bones,

The editorial board of the Libri Paginarum Minimarum Herculanei thank you for the opportunity to review your submission, but regret to inform you that we cannot include your piece, “Ten Reasons Emperor Titus Will Be Nothing Like His Father (Titus Will Definitely Crucify Me for Number Eight),” in Volume XVIII of our publication, which, incidentally, no longer exists and has not existed for some twenty centuries.

THE LEGAL AGREEMENTS SET OUT BELOW GOVERN YOUR USE OF THIS STORY. PLEASE READ THEM CAREFULLY.

For the Ethically Minded Agoraphobe: an app which shows you the species of monkey that your current anxiety medication was tested on, and what happened to each of those monkeys and how they are doing now, and when they are going to be allowed to go back to the forest—with before and after pictures.

Your motorcycle is a badge of freedom. Those leather and chrome accoutrements accentuate just how free you are. Free to reject the mainstream and ride your own path. Admittedly, it is a path crowded somewhat by all the other aging leather-clad weekend warriors refusing to conform, but it is your path nonetheless.

The time you dressed your monkey in that lil’ devil costume in the middle of July even though his tail required more room than the interior of that lil’ foam pitchfork provided.

The time you agreed to a second playdate for your monkey and your best friend’s monkey even after your best friend’s monkey refused to return the favor when your monkey picked all the fleas and ticks off his spoiled little back.