The Bitter Press

I should not have to be doing this again. I have written three prior essays on this topic. I have attached legal documents to two of them. I have, on at least one occasion, filed something with a notary whose credentials I am prepared to defend in a separate advertorial at standard rates. And yet. And yet. Here we are. Fourth essay. My rates have gone up.

Let me be plain. I am a pokeberry. I am not edible. I am not a garnish, I am not a novelty, I am not something you try on a dare because Tangelo over at the rival rag said I looked "probably fine." Tangelo is not a medical professional. Tangelo is a citrus hybrid of disputed parentage who has never, to my knowledge, passed any kind of examination. Do not take his word on anything, and certainly do not take it on me.

I am placing this notice in my own classifieds section, which I control, at a rate I set, which I have charged to myself at a discount that is none of your business. The ad copy is accurate. The warning is genuine. The cash-only payment terms remain in effect even for cautionary essays. Especially for cautionary essays. You think warning people is free? It is not. Nothing is free. I do not offer free things.

Quince has suggested I simply stop writing these. Quince can mind his own pith. Crab Apple said no one is actually trying to eat me and that I am, quote, "generating demand through repetition." This is slander and also possibly true and I am not engaging with it here. What I am doing here is warning you. Formally. Again. For the fourth time. The documentation is attached. The notary is real. Do not eat me. That will be four dollars.