What the hell is The Ryler Society?
“I can’t believe I’m reading this.”
Back in 2005, the The World Wildlife Federation sent me a bunch of free stationery with my name on it. From-the-desk-of notepads, address labels, the whole shebang.
It was glorious. Except for one tiny detail… a typo. Where it should’ve said “Tyler Riewer,” every single item read “Ryler Riewer.”
“From the Desk of Ryler Riewer…” “Ryler Riewer, 214 D Street…”
Instead of throwing it all away, I embraced my new alter ego and built a quirky club for other people who weren’t afraid to laugh when the joke was on them.
It was called The Ryler Society — or RySy for short.
For several years, I mailed little handmade and home-printed humor zines to friends and family. The RySy Read-Along was packed with surly weirdness: “Things you never want to overhear in a public restroom.” “Stripper or Kentucky Derby Horse?!” You get the idea. There were membership cards and buttons. My parents were proud.
And then it fell by the wayside. Until today.
After months of Donald Trump, terrorism, sad news, and bad dreams, I find myself back where I was a decade ago… craving a world that laughs more. Craving a community to laugh with. Craving enough good to outweigh the bad.
That’s why The Ryler Society exists. To remind us all that life is funny and short and we can’t take it too seriously.
And I sure as hell hope it makes you laugh more.