I’ve taken quite a liking to the animated, typing Dan on your letterhead. He’s kinda cryptic; no Mona Lisa, mind you, but interesting nonetheless.

At first glance, you looks pissed (note the furrowed brow and scrunched eyebrows). But if I look closer (and I have - many times), your lips betray a subtle smile. So I figure Animated, Typing Dan is more bemused than hacked-off.

Your typing, animated Dan communicates on multiple levels too. Sure he uses the written word. But there’s a more subtle monologue goin’ on. Pay heed to the cadence of the sound of the keystrokes. I now understand that you’re communicating to a smaller, more discerning audience; that’d be me. It’s kinda like the shrill sound of a dog whistle - which I can hear too, by the way.

I now realize that you’re send me a different message every day. Wednesday’s message was about your recent infatuation with Britney Spears. Leave that alone Dan. She’s no good for you. And yesterday’s missive? I am sorry to hear that your pink eye has flared up again.

I found today’s message personally disturbing. What’s all this nonsense about a restraining order?