Dropped In » Other Stuff

The Conversational Habits of East Coast City Folk

Jillian — Tue, 20 Apr 2010 17:58:00 +0000

Once, between harvests, I went on a trip to New York City. There I had the pleasure of making a friend at the Grand Central Station who took me into his confidence to inform me that one in every five persons I see there in the Big Apple was in fact an alien, and that I should mind my ps and qs, so as not to attract their animal hostility. This has proved to be a valuable life lesson ever since. Though I never returned to the east coast with its elites and its high yellows, we know we are living in the preface to the end times, as my preacher calls it, with an uppity Negro in the White House and a whole mess of womens and Mexicans whisperin in his big ole ears, and need to be on guard at all times.

I remembered my friend, that good old boy behind the newsstand, and decided to disseminate his message to my fellow Real Americans, so that we all can know how best to keep our minds from bein controlled by these librals and other foreign-born folks. If ever you should meet a Jew or one of his comrades you need to be awary cause they don’t talk regular like me or you. They use tricks like big words and references to e-volution to trip you up and confuse you, so you forget your values and very nearly give em all your money. It’s all a game with them. They’ll be real friendly-like, but all they understand is facts and reason. They have no faith, no eternal soul, and no regard for our salvation.

It is my understanding many of ‘em are engaging in what they call bi-partisan conversation. I’ve seen reruns of Sex in the City on TBS, so I know this means they watch boys kissin on boys and gals who dress like men play around with other gals who act like prostitutes. We need to wear our values on our sleeves, or better, on big posters we carry around the yard or if we go to town for more feed or tobacca. This way they aint gonna be tryin to indoctrinate us about the “environment”. Heck, I know the environment, I seen it every day on the farm. It ain’t gone nowhere. These metrosexshals and lady doctors speak the Devil’s truth, and is our job to whistle Dixie and wave our tea bags high.

In conclusion, I pray our children can pray in school and even after their 10th birthday, cause there ain’t nothing I love more ‘an this great Nation, from the Mississippi to just about a quarter mile west of the Mississippi. From the beginning of time, a little less than 2000 years ago until July of this year, when we are all going to caught up in the beautiful rapture of Our Lord, Jesus Christ, Christians have fought the good fight with soup-based casseroles and a narrow set of beliefs, and this armor has served us well during previous darkie periods in history. City folk love to listen to their own rhetoric. We use our tongues to give praise to Jesus, who loves our real America and hates socialism as much as he hates queers and A-rabs.

It’s All I Can Do To Conceal My Feelings

Jillian — Thu, 25 Mar 2010 15:52:15 +0000

Of Jealousy. In addition to laziness, judginess, and vanity, jealousy is one of my ten worst qualities. It’s genetic. It’s (em)pathetic. I don’t want to not be in my own life; I just want to live everyone else’s as well. Maybe because I’m still trying to find a way that best suits me, but as I peruse narratives and pictures of family and friends online I imagine myself in each different scenario and somehow, because I’m not involved in those moments, end up feeling slighted, sad, resentful and outside. Maybe I just want to be a part of things, maybe I wish to be the center of attention again, maybe because those static updates are all the positive, usually none of the negative, that they appear to be an enviable alternative to (my) broad-spectrum reality.

It’s not easy being green. But if I examine the feelings further I usually find the source of my covetousness and it can be transposed into something else. Desire acts as a scrim upon my initial aversion to certain choices, other ways of life (i.e., suburban, urban, professional, domestic) and I arrive at a harmonious conclusion. I quote the great James Van Der Beek in the classic film Varsity Blues, “I don’t want [dramatic pause] your life”, but as it turns out I am happy to witness it, be in a world in which it exists, and can file it away. I wonder if I will ever find a livelihood that resonates with most of my soul. I research, practice, compose, then retreat to bed for my favorite passive activity. Reading. Once I’ve conquered all the ugly jealousy in my heart I can tackle the next unlovely aspect of my disposition. But not today.

Collector’s Items

Jillian — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 19:41:55 +0000

Here is a hope, a vision of the future: nearing the end of my time on this earth, rich with experience, love and wisdom, I would like to have a cozy house filled with family, friends, and beautiful things, objects I’ve collected from many travels all over the world. They will be lovely and they will be displayed, used, as well as appreciated. All the art, furniture, and mysterious machines are memory clues that we will use as storytelling tools, while we make food in the kitchen and later sit with drinks by the fire.

The first of many in my battery is this molcajete. A three-legged mortal and pestle, it is a pre-Hispanic tool. Malcolm knew I wanted one and tasked Marcelo with finding a good example. And while I would like to imagine a blind, arthritic octagenarian carving the stone with careful craftsmanship and divine grace, it may not be of such romantic origin. But I have seen commonplace magic here, and know it does exist. In a remote pueblo I used the bathroom in a one-room home that doubles as a convience store and also houses the family loom.

I loved the natural history museum more than almost anything when I was a little girl. My dad and I would spend rainy autumn Saturdays investigating the sarcophagi and textiles, the pottery, jewelry, masks and treasures of people who lived once upon a time. We didn’t have any such artifacts at home. So I would bury myself in the Funk and Wagnalls and books borrowed from the library on archeology, anthropology and ancient history, collecting pieces of the puzzle in my mind. Now I have evidence in my hands, one of myriad keys to understanding our past.

Things to do in Yucatan Before I Leave aka My Yucket List

Jillian — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 20:29:13 +0000

Dance all night at The Mambo Cafe
We had our wedding reception at this live music venue/dance club at the Plaza Las Americas mall and it was amazing, shiny, loud, and vibrating. But I was a little distracted/overwhelmed/intoxicated and would love to go back to shake my money maker without worrying about our forty friends and family members wandering around Mexico unchaperoned. Plus, we were a little conspicuous, taking up multiple banquettes with bottle service and shenanigans and I would like an opportunity to observe and soak up the atmosphere from a slightly less prominent position.
Visit Tulum
The very word evokes majesty and mysticism, ancient ruins built on cliffs overlooking the sea.
Ride the red double-decker bus
This falls under the heading be a tourist in your own town which is one of those don’t sweat the small stuff/101 ways to be happier self-help suggestions that you always intend to do on a Saturday before you realize there’s a True Life marathon on MTV and that you have a slothful responsibility to eat cream cheese right from the wrapper and heckle the pregnant teenage meth addicts who need breast augmentation to be more successful celebrity impersonators in their South Florida town. We no longer have satellite television so I have no excuse. It’s time to brush the treetops along the Paseo de Montejo with my fingers!
See Elton John Live at Chichen Itza
Truly, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. He’s giving a concert on April 3rd at the site of one of the 7 wonders of the world. It’s odd, it’s incongruous, it’s possibly offensive, but it also sounds like a real spectacular-spectacular. Honestly, I don’t really much care about Elton John. I mean, I’m no weirdo; when Tiny Dancer comes on the radio and I’m alone in the car you know I am singing loud and with my eyes closed-other than that I’m rather meh about that bedazzled piano player. But this I’ve got to see.
Swim with the dolphins
Who doesn’t love a porpoise? BTW, have you heard of this guy? He loved a porpoise too much. Anyway. I want to squeeze their squelchy gray skin with my knees with my arms raised in victory. I want to watch them jump over my head. I want to look a dolphin in the eye. Listen, I don’t like the idea of a wild animal in captivity any more than you do, but this is not a blog about justice, ideals or social action, as you know. This is about us doing stuff and getting stuff and rocking out and being awesome. And what I want is to swim with one of those whip-smart Bottlenose bastards.

This is all I have so far, but I”m open to suggestions. So tell me: what’s the coolest thing you’ve done in Yucatan?

A Nation of Two

Jillian — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 18:26:10 +0000

As much as we have lived in Mexico these last four years, mostly we have lived alone in a world of our own construct. Throughout our relationship we’ve always been close. I distinctly remember the year we met, during our ritual of watching The Practice and eating takeout in Malcolm’s tiny first floor dorm room every Sunday night, friends would knock to come in for web cam antics + Magic Hat #9+ Pennywise, only to realize we were deep in the reverie of courtship and Marla Sokoloff. Not much has changed since 1999. We are still most content doing funny bits about whatever we are watching, enjoying a cocktail, while the world goes on without us. A storm rages outside but inside we are content.

Coming to Mexico as an engaged couple we were thrown into situations slightly more dramatic and taxing than choosing a china pattern or a caterer. We had no place to live after two reserved hotel nights. It was scary because we made it that way. We needed a little real(ish) fear. It required great faith, and for us each to function highly in order instill confidence in the other person. And what is marriage, if not that very feat, done everyday, over and over in myriad ways minute and enormous? I know these lessons will serve us well when we return to the world of separate work and social engagements, because we thrive on this island of awesome that exists wherever we are together.

… And We’re Back (But Not For Long)

Jillian — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 18:59:06 +0000

As it turns out, as we have proven, you can abandon your pressboard life, board a plane to a place you’ve never been and carve out an existence – and a pretty sweet one at that – in an uncanny valley far, but not too far, from home. We didn’t drop off the edge of civilization, though we did test its boundaries. We discovered a little corner of the world and found within it a small place for our own things; perched on the edge of an ocean, tucked between similar, but shabbier concrete boxes, we ensconced ourselves in our own version of home in Mexico. We haven’t grown roots so much as sticky filaments that keep us connected and, I am sure, fettered to the ground here, which so happens to be porous limestone. We will always come back to Yucatan, where we were married, where we built our first house, where we met our dogs, made some peace, laughed, sweat, swam, grieved, and gained perspective, courage, confidence and many more gifts I am sure will not become apparent until we are well settled back in the United States.

This summer we are daring to return. On or about June 18, 2010 we will pack up the pick-up with clothes, books, art, a dog, a map, and not much more than that. We will leave the house furnished – we hope it sells that way. In the meantime my Mother-in-Law will stay here and keep it safe. It is charming as is and if it does not sell soon it will be a perfect vacation home for us next winter, when we will no doubt find the weather less cozy and alluring than we do now. This summer it will be four years almost exactly that we have lived as foreigners in Yucatan, a state of pride and familial piety, independent in many ways of the problems that plague the rest of Mexico. We spent a college-length tenure honing old skills and developing new interests. We escaped our own fears, a downward spiralling economy, and an ordinary life we couldn’t make fit into our romantic expectations. Only now that familiar place beckons; much of what we weren’t ready for is waiting to be picked up, like a sweater discarded barely begun in the knitting basket.

This was a good break from the status quo, “full of adventure, full of discovery.” I am reminded of CP Cavafy’s Ithaka. Many among our friends and family didn’t believe we would actually do it, couldn’t understand why we might want to try. I had considerable doubts, but my belief that there was more to see and do beyond my ken, as well as my confidence in Malcolm prevailed. I was not always as hale and intrepid as I had hoped I would be, but I faced a few demons and conquered some faults. I saw the world and it recogized me, and I am inspired to keep going, to seek out new landscapes and seas and faces. Just not right now. Right now we are both craving home, for, despite its problems and failings America looks shiny, at once familiar and pregnant with possibilities.

We’re taking a drive up country, hugging the coast to Matamoros, across the border to Texas, traveling East until the Atlantic, then due North. After Houston, New Orleans, and Tallahassee, we’ll ride I-95 from Savannah to Charleston, through DC and Philadedelphia, happily sail through terra cognito and finally we will land in Portland, Maine around the Fourth of July. Patriotism!

We began this blog in the months leading up to our expatriation and we recently realized similar feelings were stirring as this new move approaches. We’re plotting and planning again, imagining a second start. In a new city, a new home, we’re heading back to a different America as changed individuals; we’re married now and we have our mostly loyal dog, Olivia with us. It is a rebirth, and we return as heroes, at least in our own minds. I am nothing short of ecstatic at the prospect of living in my own motherland, close to family and friends and things I love deeply, have missed fiercely, and challenges I am ready to meet anew.

But before that adventure comes a journey. I am looking forward to fleet highways and dusty backroads, to topography and geography I have never seen before, to busting out and seeing more of this enormous, diverse, beautiful country. We’re ending this story the right way this time, with a trip cross two countries, holding hands on the bench seat of a champagne F150. You joined us for the drop in and now we’re moving out. Ko’ox!

Dropped Out.

Malcolm — Mon, 04 May 2009 18:51:45 +0000

Jillian: How will it end, I wonder? In order to address this unanswerable question with poetry and symmetry, I look back to the beginning. Rereading the early entries, from the planning stages to our first enthralled weeks in Mexico, through all the trials up to this present moment; as I listen to the waves, I am writing the final post, for now. That’s right: Dropped In is officially going on hiatus.

Malcolm: All I am listening to is the air conditioner, which, believe me, is awesome. Jillian can wax poetic all she wants; the truth is, writing for Dropped In just doesn’t make a lot of sense, anymore. Things have changed, and this portion of the story has, we think, come to a close, for now.

J: Malcolm and I have agreed that the story arc is ended, the narrative of an engaged couple in their late twenties taking a leap in faith and life has been told. We are married and that adventure will continue for (I hope) one thousand years. We are living in Mexico in a fairly contented situation; the horror stories of our present are mundane and much less humorous.

M: DroppedIn was always about the planning, and the newness. We were just two people making a leap, and recording how that felt. Looking back on the archives, it is amazing to see just how wide open our eyes were, and how excited we were to change our lives. Now that we have settled into our lives here, the writing we continue to do (and want to do) just seems inappropriate for this site.

J: There are surprises, complications, moments of awkwardness, sadness and hilarity, but unless we elect to adopt a smart mouth six year old to keep us on our toes or incongruously enter a water skiing competition I am afraid, friends, that the show may be over.

M: Jillian is right. Only a last-season surprise cast addition would recreate that sense of the new, as, for us, life in Mexico has normalized. We will never become experts at living here, and don’t want to present ourselves that way. We’ve Dropped In, and now it’s time for new projects.

J: It has been a blast to keep this public journal, photo album and record of some of the best events of our lives. We learned more about ourselves and the experience by shaping it into this website and interacting with you, our audience. What began as a place for comedy and complaints evolved into a portal into our world so friends and family could see us and say hello, and went on to become a source of information, a place to cry out, a way to check in and be kept in check, our window to the world that is not a panopticon or a scrapbook, but a thing greater than the sum of its parts. I just wanted to say thanks to all of you for listening, it has been one good journey.

M: Keeping this site going for the last three years has been incredibly rewarding, and we do appreciate everyone’s continued participation and feedback. So, what’s next? A few things:

1. Many of the more nuts-and-bolts articles will be edited, polished, and brought over to Yolisto, where both Jillian and I will continue contributing the occasional article about living in the Yucatan. We will also be continuing contributors to The Truth About Mexico, a country-wide, collaborative magazine authored by some of the brightest authors in Mexico.

2. We will leave this site archived and up, because we do think there is some good information in its pages, and just in case something radical happens that would be inappropriate to discuss elsewhere, though right now, we can’t imagine what that would be. For a quick guide, and to try and shape this project into a story, here are our favorite posts from the life of this blog:

July 4, 2006: Record/Record
July 27, 2006: A Day of Lasts (Reflections on our last day in America.)
August 8, 2006: Entrada (First impressions.)
August 19, 2006: Sabado Gigante: We Nail Down an Apartment (Breaking out of the hotel, and into the city.)
August 25, 2006: Gauging the True Cost of Living
August 27, 2006: House Hunting Along the Gulf of Mexico
September 6, 2006: We Put an Offer on a House
October 3, 2006: First Trip to Progreso
October 15, 2006: Celebrating One Year of Dropping In (First-year website anniversary.)
October 23, 2006: Vivo en Merida (More first impressions)
October 28, 2006: Malcolm & Jillian Interviewed on Yucatan Living (This was significant because, for the first time, we were becoming a part of the resources that we had previously spent years reading and dreaming about.)
October 31, 2006: Food for You Animate Them (Jillian’s Day of the Dead photos.)
January 4, 2007: San Crisanto: The House that Wasn’t (The details of our first offer falling through)
January 10,2007: Continuing to Nail Down a Life in Mexico
January 23, 2007: Progreso Street Scenes, Vol 1 (Photos from our first real rental house, in Progreso.)
January 24, 2007: Merida Costco Invaded by Gringo Marauders (Wherein we learn that living here is, actually, pretty easy.)
March 13, 2007: Daytrippers (If anyone tells you to go to Belize to renew your tourist visa, stop being friends with them immediately.)
March 29, 2007: Look What We Bought (After seven months, we close on a property.)
April 16, 2007: Here are Your “Before” Photos (Or house, as purchased.)
May 10, 2007: More Progress in Chelem
May 20, 2007: Gaining Entry into the Mexican Credit System (Afterword: Never, ever buy a car from this dealership.)
May 27, 2007: Turning 29 at the End of the World
June 28, 2007: Been a While Since I Rapped at Ya (With Jillian in America, I move into our wildly unfinished new house, and sleep in a hammock.)
September 18, 2007: Whatever Dude, We’ve Got Crabs (Our new home has some unexpected pests.)
October 31, 2007: Celebrating Two Years of Dropping In (Our two-year anniversary.)
Novemeber 7, 2007: I Give My Left Arm to the Maya (Now I’m committed.)
Novemeber 9, 2007: The Protean Waters of Yucatan
November 13, 2007: Wedding Photos: User Contributed Edition (Our wedding in Merida.)
November 30, 2007: Renovating Our Beach House, Volume 2
February 12, 2008: La Tratto, Dehydration, Star Medica, and You: A Cautionary Tale
March 4, 2008: Building Community with the New Yolisto (Yolisto re-launches)
April 14, 2008: Expatriation is Freedom (But Not the Way You Think)
April 25, 2008: Welcome to the Gringo House
May 29, 2008: Photo Notes from a 30th Birthday in Cancun
July 1, 2008: The Dark Lady
July 2, 2008: Did I Tell You About the Time We Didn’t Get Robbed? (The police in Merida are fantastic.)
July 31, 2008: Renovating Our Beach House: Volume 2.1
September 4, 2008: Renovating Our Beach House: Volume 3
October 13, 2008: Anniversary Anticipation (The Third Anniversary of Dropped In)
October 14, 2008: Remodeling the Guest House: Take 1
November 10, 2008: Becoming 30 on the Mayan Riviera
November 14, 2008: The Accidental Gringa
December 8, 2008: Renovating Our Beach House: Volume 4
January 28, 2008: It’s Not All Margaritas and Monkeyshines
March 11, 2008: Loading Up the New Living Room
This is just the brief overview. There is much, much more to read. As you browse through the posts above, be sure to check out the automatically-generated links to related posts below the body of each article.

3. Finally, we have launched a completely new site, called “dinnercraft.” The bulk of our new writing will appear there. Check it out, and be sure to read the “about” page for a quick overview. This blog will have multiple authors and contributors, and should be a lot of fun.

M: Thank you again for listening to us for the last three years. I’m sure we’ll talk again, soon.

J: And…we’re out.

In Defense of The Tourist

Jillian — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 18:11:06 +0000

Perhaps I am feeling too charitable, too unironic, too patriotic today but I am going to come out and opine that American citizens, if they are able to take a hard-earned vacation, should absolutely wear ugly shorts, get horribly sunburnt, and enjoy fruity cocktails by the pool. Maybe I am playing the devil’s advocate or finally coming to terms with my middle-class, middle American roots, but maybe it’s just awful and pretentious to be a dick about how these sorry sots spend their one week a year. Not everyone wants to commune with nature in Costa Rica, soak up the culture of Europe or backpack around Asia. So be it.

I have personally been offended by, embarrassed for, and annoyed with this group of happy campers. However, I am kind of sick of this population being denigrated by the high-minded minority. Let me be very clear, I don’t think it’s at all okay to act inappropriately or ignorantly, to mock people, culture, country or language, to be rude, racist, or revolting. Don’t shout, don’t puke, don’t point. Not when you travel abroad, and come on, not anywhere. But if you want to rock a fanny pack, fuck it, go for it. If you want to be fat and white and simple at the swim-up bar and learn some “ess-pan-yole” from the bartender while you sip your Rum Runner, I say more power to you.

I happen to enjoy learning, arts, exploring, undiscovered places, and experiencing otherness firsthand. Hell, if I could travel with Richard to his little piece of Beach paradise in Thailand I totally would for a while. But that life is not for everyone. And in these tough times, when people who were comfortable are now struggling can take some time off, go on a mental and physical vacation from their worries who am I to mock their provincialism and desire for easy comforts? Who amongst us has not enjoyed being pampered, disengaged, a little dumb, acting loose, feeling at ease, light, and carefree?

I know that what I am saying is shocking. It’s kind of freaking me out too. When Anthony Bourdain quips, “be a traveler, not a tourist.” I’m all, “yeah, get off the bus and breathe it in, you, you…nincompoops”. There is so much to see and do and know it seems wasteful to miss out on any journey that might crack open your small world. But maybe blithe doesn’t have to be lowbrow and unsophisticated isn’t necessarily crass. Don’t get me wrong, I am not going to be vacationing with the Palins, shootin’ moose and gettin’ down with Todd and the Real Americans. I just realized that here is more than one way to be an ugly American.

Call Off “The Hounds of Zaroff” We Just Want To Play!

Jillian — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 21:18:10 +0000

The blogosphere is abuzz with voices across Mexico defending their adopted country. I couldn’t agree more with the chorus of sanity. Don’t let the fear mongers get you down. And though I don’t know what will happen tomorrow I can say for today that the United States of Mexico has not failed, narco-banditos are not wearing Calderon like a hat or gamboling merrily in the countryside, and here in Yucatan we are enjoying a fresh, breezy day that carries the promise of spring on its bright back. We don’t often address politics or current affairs here, nor do we comment on economics, religion, psychiatry, Scientology, phrenology, gynecology, famine, salmon, golf, genetics, octuplets, China, or American Idol. We’re simply unqualified. We rarely wax philosophic. If you took a survey course freshman year in college on it you likely won’t find it here. If it’s a serious, topical issue, it’s just not our bag. You come here for pirates, opinions that took us less than – let’s be honest – two minutes to formulate, and loose morals. You dropped in for self-deprication, free association and a thought nap. Ahhh, doesn’t that feel good? You know what else we serve up here? The Love. Yup (slow nodding, pursed lips) mad, unrequited, uninvited, gut-wrenching, thirst-quenching, monotonous, monogomous, sweet, sour, salty love is the most dangerous game there is, friends. That is, other than the man-hunting antics of an eccentric Russian aristocrat. Well, I’m out. I really had an extra helping of nothing to say today, I just wanted to contribute, drop some science, say hey, etc. Oh, one last thing. If you are feeling unsafe today wherever you are stop what you’re doing and get up and do it with me: The Safety Dance.

Reason #2,142 the Internet is Stupid: The Perceived Value of Domain Names

Malcolm — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 00:28:34 +0000

I still can’t quite understand why there is still such a thing as a “domain aftermarket,” because in case no one noticed, domain names don’t really have any value. With the exception of a good one-word domain name, such as shop.com for a shopping site, feed.com for a news aggregator or farm supply store, buzz.com for an electrician, beekeeper, or celebrity gossip site, or slick.com for a hair gel, oil spill, or latex fetish site, there is simply no reason to spend the ridiculous amounts of money so-called “domain name prospectors” seem to think they can command. What is this, 2002?

Speaking of 2002, I used to work for a certain charismatic lunatic who spent something like 40 grand on a domain name for an imaginary site that would compete with Friendster. He never developed the site, though he did get a baseball hat with a pretty sweet logo on it. The point being: it’s not the domain that matters, it’s the content. I don’t write this as though it’s some sort of new revelation…the revelation is that it still doesn’t seem obvious to everyone.

Yesterday, I had this idea that I wanted to buy the domain, “MaketheLogoBigger.com,” and start a site that would combine the best elements of Smashing Magazine, Lifehacker, and DeviantArt. Since then, I realized that about 30,000 bloggers are already doing the same thing, so I kind of scrapped the idea as soon as I had it. But not before I had this ridiculous exchange:

————–

jacob wrote:

What is your offer for makethelogobigger.com? Let me know.

Best Regards,
*Jacob* | *AcquireThisName.com*
AcquireThisName.com

————–

From: Malcolm
Sent: Friday, January 23, 2009 12:41 PM
To: jacob
Subject: Re: Offer on makethelogobigger.com

$100

————–

jacob wrote:
Hello Malcolm,

The seller is asking $5,000 USD for makethelogobigger.com. Let me know.

Best Regards,
Jacob
AcquireThisName.com

————–

From: Malcolm
Sent: Friday, January 23, 2009 1:17 PM
To: jacob
Subject: Re: Offer on makethelogobigger.com

All set. Thanks.

————–

jacob wrote:

You are welcome to make a counter offer. Let me know.

Best Regards,
Jacob | AcquireThisName.com
AcquireThisName.com

————–

From: Malcolm
Sent: Friday, January 23, 2009 2:47 PM
To: jacob
Subject: Re: Offer on makethelogobigger.com

$150

————–

jacob wrote:
The seller’s counter offer is $2,500.

Best Regards,

Jacob | AcquireThisName.com
AcquireThisName.com

————–

From: Malcolm
Sent: Friday, January 23, 2009 3:59 PM
To: jacob
Subject: Re: Offer on makethelogobigger.com

$160, and that’s my final offer.

————–

jacob wrote:
I’m sorry the seller won’t agree to that.

Best Regards,
Jacob | AcquireThisName.com
AcquireThisName.com

————–

From: Malcolm
Sent: Friday, January 23, 2009 5:40 PM
To: jacob
Subject: Re: Offer on makethelogobigger.com

Fair enough. Thanks.

————–

Based on him slashing his asking price in half, I almost expected the seller to go ahead and accept my “final offer.” I also expected “Jacob” would suspect that I was having a little bit of fun with him. But the point is, I can think of very few reasons to buy a $5,000 domain. I can just as easily start my new site on “BorkNack.com” and have it be just as successful, that is, if the content was killer and the idea wasn’t already done to death by a ton of people more qualified than I. The domain aftermarket is dumb, and it’s time for this “business” to go away.