I get some pretty fantastic stuff in my email inbox.

Sure, there are people who have bizarre requests, or want me to fix all their stucknesses for free, or to advertise the most random, irrelevant crap on my site (huh?!). That’s why I have an assistant.

But there’s a lot of stuff that is just pure joy.

Just this week, for example, a woman in Thailand wrote to say that she’d listened to the freebie Recoding Your Mind meditation thing that you get when you sign up for the destuckification sampler, and it actually resolved a painful, physical thing she was dealing with.

[Aside: if you want me to open an email you’re sending, and you’re sick of using Can I steal from you? as a tease, this one is pretty good: How you cured my broken blood vessels. Very effective.]

Or, you know, people will share various sweet, wacky, wonderful things happening in their lives and attribute all this fabulousness to things I’ve said or done.

And sometimes people really do just write in to say thanks, without wanting you to solve all their problems or anything. 🙂

But here’s the funniest email I’ve ever received. EVER.

This is from Sandie Law, who, by the way, is awesome and runs a great site (Macaroni and Peas!) for parents who want help figuring out how to feed their picky-eater kids healthy, yummy food. She’s also in our non-icky self-promotion for people who hate self-promotion course and we like her.

So yeah, I’d pretty much be happy to hear from Sandie whenever even if she weren’t flattering me and making me laugh so hard that I spit all over my computer screen.

Actually, it wasn’t her so much (not that Sandie isn’t funny, because she is), as the mind-boggling absurdity of the situation. Because that was what hit me straight in the funny bone, which resulted in me completely losing it for at least a couple minutes:

I just finished listening to Recoding Your Mind. May I just say, I love you. I agree with Naomi, your voice is delightful.

I would love to purchase the Procrastination Dissolve-o-Matic, but I can’t seem to get to it. My company is blocking it as a site with sexual context.

While that sounds fun and naughty, it doesn’t really make sense. Is there another way I can order it?

After I stopped laughing/crying and peeled myself off the floor (and we made sure she had the correct link, which she did), I knotted my hair in an austere bun and put on my sexy librarian glasses to peruse the Dissolve Procrastination website with a discerning censorship-hungry eye.

Plunging the depths of the sales page, probing for hidden dirtiness … if you know what I mean.

Right. So I went over the page twice, scanning for “sexual” content or context or anything really. You know, maybe some inadvertent bits of lasciviousness or something.

A slip of the marketing tongue, if you will. Or a Freudian slip. Really, any kind of slip at this point.

Because who knows? Maybe I am the queen of double-entendre copy-writing and I don’t even know it. Maybe I should team up with Naomi and she can do her filthy marketing whore routine and I’ll teach the art of smutty selling.

Okay …. so of course there wasn’t really anything weird about the site. I was pretty much being my usual sweet yoga self with just a tiny bit of snark for balance.

Though I did notice that the word “insert” (as in “insert your own self-deprecation here”) and “frustrated” are in the same paragraph … and I do say “hard copies“.

ROWR!

I know. That’s seriously hot.

But even after I took the glasses off and let my hair swing out luxuriously and dramatically (in slow motion, of course) … I still had no idea whatsoever as to what could be prompting some suspicious robot to block my site. The site about dissolving procrastination. Not a clue.

And yeah, if any of you have ideas for dealing with this (preferably ones that aren’t fun and/or naughty), please advise.

(Aside: I just reread Sandie’s email in my gmail account, to see if the Dissolve-o-Matic reference popped up any sexy-content ads in the side bar … but they were all for BMWs. Yeah. I don’t get it either.)

All’s well that ends well. Except in bed …

So Sandie and I were all hot and bothered by this point — by the fact that we still couldn’t get her to the actual website. Fortunately for everyone concerned, we figured out a compromise (it’s not what you’re thinking, get your head out of the gutter!) and everyone’s happy.

I got to have fun imagining what my work would be like if you were feeling especially innuendo-centric and/or channeling Groucho Marx. And I sent Sandie her own copy of my Emergency Calming Techniques package, which is a perfect example of how it always pays to make people laugh.

Though I really gave it to her because I actually think Recoding Your Mind doesn’t even hold a candle to the Emergency Calming Techniques. If she’s already impressed, this new level of destuckification will knock her socks off.

Only in the metaphorical sense, of course.

I swear I’m going to stop being such a tease.

Or that was the plan. But then when I was on the Dissolve Procrastination page this morning I remembered that when it first came out (five months ago), I planned to keep the cheap intro newbie launch sale price thing up for three months and then put it back up to the real price.

Which I never did because it always seemed like, Oh, come on, be nice for just a little longer! You can put it back up at the next biggification meeting! And then somehow it got back-burnered.

Well, here’s the thing. The Procrastination Dissolve-o-matic is hot stuff. So hot that your company might not even let you access the page. Because it’s all tingly and spicy and, uh, things like that.

So I’m giving everyone one week to jump on this thing. Yeah, you heard me. Just ravish it six ways from Sunday. Sunday? Okay, fine, we’ll make it a week from Sunday.

And then I’ll be putting the price back up to what it’s actually supposed to be.

The VIP packages all sold out early, of course, but I had so much fun doing them — and people had such ridiculously insanely great results — that I’m doing it again.

Ten VIP packages (i.e. an hour of me zapping you with yummy magic procrastination-dissolving zappiness) for people who like to go all the way. I’m guessing these won’t last more than a couple of days, but give it a try.

That’s it. Send me mad fanmail.

Or socks. Tell me stories. Make me laugh. I’ll be back to my serious yogacentric self tomorrow probably, so enjoy the goofiness while it lasts.