Some People Don’t Want to Be Found Magazine

So Lindsay finally convinced me to sign up for dodgeball, which, I don’t really want to talk about it. Up until about a month ago I had still never sent a text message in my life, which I felt was one of the last few good things you could even say about me, and now I am signed up for a special text messaging service? One that allows greater ease and efficiency in text messaging? This is a horrible, horrible development.

But here’s the thing: every time I get a dodgeball text message, it says that it is from Davy Rothbart? Creator of Found Magazine? So every time I get a dodgeball text message I am hesitant to open it because I’m not really sure that I want to read someone’s suicide note, or, you know, some grammatical horrorshow that some black kid wrote to his girlfriend during Earth Science about how his love for her makes his heart beat faster than a Farari [sic].

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