Doing a book swap with Amanda, a writer friend in Connecticut — I almost stuck a couple of McDoubles in the box for the three-day First Class Mail journey.

She is my “homeopathic pal,” who is constantly exhorting me to eat better, and keeps getting me to put strange things into my body.  [NOTE TO ALL REPUBLICANS READING THIS:  I said “homeoPATHIC,” and the “strange things into my body” I’m referring to are …  like … distilled essence of reindeer horn and powdered Romanian wildflower and stuff.  So relax; she isn’t assailing your Institution of Marriage.  Also, tell Sarah Palin I said that she’s just cute as a button.]

Anyway … the cheeseburger gag — should I do it?  The Post Office Lady Who is Always Annoyed With Me regularly asks me those Homeland Security-esque questions whenever I mail a package … is anything flammable?  Is anything made of hazardous materials?  It’s sometimes fun, because it makes me feel like “The Jackal” (the Bruce Willis version) on his way to do battle with the incongruously charming Irish Republican Army member Richard Gere.  (Man, did that movie ever send mixed messages about terrorism.)

But is it legal to send burgers through the mail as a gag?  The Post Office Lady never specifies “cheeseburgers” in her queries. And don’t go making the obvious joke that food from MacDonald’s is always “hazardous materials” because I hear enough of that from my friends, and I LOVE MCDOUBLES.  (“Diagnosis? Delicious.”)

I hope it’s cool, because I really need a truly diabolical plan to impress upon Amanda that I do, in fact, have a sense of humor.  The other night, she told me that “my darkness can get in the way of me being a truly free spirit,” which is so goddam abstract that I’m not sure what to make of it.  I … don’t THINK it was an insult, and it’s possible that she was just all toked up again after smoking powdered reindeer horn or something.

If you are reading this blog entry, Amanda, here’s a poem excerpt just for you:

“Altogether elsewhere, vast

Herds of reindeer move across

Miles and miles of golden moss,

Silently and very fast.”

Those are the closing lines of W.H. Auden’s “The Fall of Rome.”  Rattle of that one at your next Earth Day celebration.  Now put the pipe down, Honey.

I feel certain my mother will e-mail me with spelling corrections for this blog entry’s headline, because, despite my best efforts, she still misunderstands the concept of LOLcats:

Me: They’re kittens.

Mom: It’s spelled wrong.

Me:  That’s the joke … the kittens can’t spell.

Mom:  But the kittens can use a computer?

Seriously, for someone who grew up before the Internet, the concept of LOLcats is hard to explain.  Schrodinger’s cat would probably easier.

So e-mail me your advice on the cheeseburger gag after you devote some serious thought to it.  In the meantime, tremble before these two portraits of diabolical plan formation.  Dear Lord … WE EVEN LOOK ALIKE.