When I started writing vanity cards, way back in 1995, few people noticed them. Most of those who did assumed they were some sort of legal boilerplate. Heck, even if someone got curious and hit 'pause' on their VCR, there was no guarantee they'd be able to read the darn thongs. Now... forget about it. Every card gets parses and analyzed like it was a Canticle for Leibowitz (great book check it out). The jokes are taken way too seriously and the stories all have to have a secret meaning. (Sometimes a junkie monkey is just a junkie monkey.) Don't get me wrong. There's a part of me that loves to exploit his silliness. What other possible reason would I have to write the following poem?
He knew where the bodies were buried,
'cause they weren't buried deep.
Always follow the money,
silence doesn't come cheap.