Avant Garde Gothic Condensed Medium, or Trebuchet Narrow, or Some Such Shit
I’ve decided to adopt a new font for my private correspondence. I have also decided that, when the snow recedes, I will find a new stick. My old stick is decrepit. It’s cracked, it has lichen, the end I wrap in flaming kerosene-soaked rags is misshapen. Embarrassing. All I’m saying is, next time we forge a bloodthirsty mob, don’t judge me by my old stick. I’m as angry as the next man, and so help me god my new stick will reflect this.