Remember when bipping was harmless entertainment between bloggers? You would send out a few Lenny Harris dupes, he would send you back a bunch of Eric Chavez cards (because everyone has those), and you'd each enjoy a hearty chuckle.
Then people started getting e-bipped. Then the bip-master was assaulted with 210 Dave Gallaghers by a prospector gone bad. Things are getting crazy.
The other day I was bipped by someone who doesn't even have a blog. Really. This is how I know that bipping has jumped the shark. It's not trendy anymore. It's like when you saw your grandmother do the Macarena. OK, that's a poor example. The Macarena was never cool. But you get my point. Bipping has escaped into the general population. This is totally out of our control now. If I catch folks at the nursing home down the street bipping each other with the seven of clubs, I am going to freak.
So, anyway, the non-blogger in question is/was my good buddy Max. You may have read yesterday that he sent an unexpected package to dayf. The Cardboard Junkie was immediately suspicious. But he had no reason to be, because it was just a bunch of Chipper Jones cards. Emphasis on the word "just."
Well, I also received an unexpected package from Max. He had already sent me a package recently, so this one puzzled me. Like dayf, I got a little suspcious. But I passed it off as the paranoia of a five-time bippee, because, silly me, Max doesn't have a blog.
So, I opened the package as carefree as a newborn puppy. The first card made me even happier and more puppy-like:
But then, behind Russell J. was Rickey.
The next card was an unlicensed Matt "I'm not dating Rihanna" Kemp.
But then this.
Next card, another Russell J.
All right, bring on the Rickey.
What's this? A note?
Max, on the other hand -- what the hell, you don't bip dayf, but you bip me? You know he's a Braves fan, right?