When I was a little kid, I loved to get mail. Getting mail was rare, but it almost always contained a nice card or money, so it felt like my birthday. Heck, it was my birthday.

But now I get mail almost every day, and it almost never contains money. Because of this, my enthusiasm for mail has reached an all-time low, and I even considered installing a shredding machine directly into my mailbox, but apparently that’s against federal regulations.

Getting mail has pretty much been downgraded to a chore because all I ever get is junk, up to 90 percent of which is Discover Card applications. I find this disturbing because 1) I can’t afford to be paying off any more credit cards, which they should know because 2) I already have a Discover Card.

One of the main reasons I signed up for Discover Card in the first place was so they would stop sending me applications (and so I could get a free T-shirt), but they keep sending me their applications anyway.

Are they not getting my checks? I send them money every month so I assume they’d figure out that I already have one of their cards.

I know if someone sent me a check every month I wouldn’t forget about them (if you are doubting me, send your checks payable to Peter Borchers at 316 S. Walnut Ave., Ames, IA, 50010)

Maybe they’re just hoping I sign up for another Discover Card so they can send me two bills for everything I buy. But with the incredible 1 percent cash back I earn on every purchase, that’s almost a better deal for me than it is for them.

Despite this, every so often I get something in the mail that makes putting up with all of the junk worthwhile. Just last week I received a letter from a Greg Montoya in Lewisville, Texas. In the letter, Mr. Montoya wanted to help me make millions with his Step-by-Step Wealth Building System. To my surprise, included with the letter was a genuine $1 million bill.

This is the first $1 million dollar bill I have ever received. For those of you who have not had the pleasure of owning one yourself, on the front is a picture of the Statue of Liberty, the back is a picture of the Jefferson Memorial and it is printed at the official Bank of Millionaires in Atlanta, Georgia.

As I said before, getting money in the mail is rare, especially $1 million, so I’m guessing this gift was some sort of mistake. But mistake or not, I’m keeping the money. Unfortunately there aren’t too many vendors in Ames who are willing to break a $1 million bill so it is essentially worthless unless I want to buy a big-ticket item such as a Batmobile (which I am considering).

With the exception of $1 million dollar bills, now that the Unabomber is safely locked away there is nothing better to receive in the mail than a package. Naturally, I was thrilled to find a package waiting for me in the mail the other day.

The package was addressed to Current Resident so I, being the Current Resident that I am, immediately ripped it open. Image my surprise when I found out that I was the new owner of a free pack of new Always Maxi Pads—with flexi wings!

If TV commercials have taught me anything, it’s that the function of a maxi pad is to absorb the various blue liquids that women keep stored in beakers.

I’m not really sure why women do this. It seems like a wasteful activity to me, but the maxi pad/tampon business is a multi-million dollar per year industry.

In fact, it is such a big business that discount stores devote entire aisles to these products.

Believe me when I way this; nothing creeps a guy out more that accidentally walking down the feminine hygiene aisle and suddenly finding himself surrounded by thousands and thousands of tampons.

It’s part of a whole other world that us men would rather assume didn’t exist.

Unfortunately, once a month you women go out of your way to make damn sure we don’t forget. (Not that I can blame you.)

But on behalf of all guys everywhere, I beg you women out there to never, ever ask your husband, boyfriend or son to buy tampons or maxi pads for you. You may say it won’t kill us, but there is no documented evidence of that.

On that note, I think this would be a good time to change gears. As you know, our basketball teams are the top seeds in the Big XII tournaments this weekend. Those of you who didn’t know that should be expelled.

This is probably the best chance this university will ever have to prove to the rest of the country that we exist. Why not be a part of it? Quite frankly, I’m a little bit disappointed in those of you who aren’t heading down to Kansas City this weekend.

So cancel your trip to Mexico. You can always pick up some Taco Bell on the way to the game. Let’s rock Kansas City as we watch the Cyclones prove that the words “Iowa State” in the polls wasn’t just a typo.

Don’t worry if money is a problem, this road trip’s on me and my $1 million bill.

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Peter Borchers is a senior in advertising from Bloomington, Minn. See you all in Kansas City!