1. A sizeable box of canned food. If you’re anything like me and have to manage grocery shopping without a car, then a mass delivery of canned goods should make you wag your tail in excitement. Cans are weighty and I have spent countless nights fretting over my weak arms and my consequential inability to fill my war-cupboard with supplies. A delivery of this sort to my door, quite plainly, would give me peace-of-mind. If you would like to donate to my war-cupboard, which may be used for raids and other emergencies, such as public holidays, please leave a comment with your email and I’ll send you my address.
2. A crocodile. Upon receiving it you could act all surprised and amazed and say, “But have you ever tried to send a crocodile, a crocodile in the post?” Then you could break into “Ahoo-ahoo-ahoo-ahoo-ahoo-aha, ahoo-ahoo-ahoo-ahoo-aha.” And then you could dance with the croc and both Peter Combe and Steve Irwin would be proud.
3. Free samples. Of anything.
4. Toilet paper. It runs out constantly and seemingly without warning. You end up with your pants around your ankles and a worried look upon your face. Granted, some occasions are worse than others, but a weekly delivery would doubtlessly be handy.
5. A pineapple. Leena once found a stray pineapple at the Cultural Centre Busway and brought it home. We ate it. It was delicious. I have not enjoyed a more delicious pineapple since. And I have since made the conclusion that all pineapples that just show up out of the blue are better than all pineapples that don’t. And a pineapple in the post is essentially a pineapple out of the blue.
6. All of the things that I have ever lost. Just in the past two weeks I have either inconveniently misplaced or left carelessly on a public bench or road a host of very valuable items, including my Go Card, Michael’s umbrella, a loaf of fruit bread, my mp3 charger cord, a CD full of photos, and an SD card. Sometimes I hate myself. Multiply this amount of lost items by the number of pairs of weeks in my entire life and you see, clearly, why such a delivery would not only be useful, but also just freaking impressive in size. I’d probably get to be in the news.
7. Pants. Even if they don’t fit or they look like pants worn by paedophiles (fleecy, elastic waist, elastic ankles), it would be cool to say, “Hey these are my pants. They came in the post. They are my post pants. I wear them when I’m delivering mail and doing other things like babysitting”. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t be cool.
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