Thursday, February 16, 2006

Acute Mametitis

Tom Blister, Woundup Corp. CEO, here, folks...

Thought I'd take a minute to check in again. Forgot a few things by the ol' computer terminal here. Who's computer is this anyway? There's a picture _ some broad with glasses. HEY KRAPUTNIK. YOU WOULD GO OUT WITH A BROAD WITH GLASSES. Must be a real minx _ in the boo-dwar. Hey, who am I to judge? My last wife had a prosthetic nose. She used to take it off at night...

Okay, I found what I was lookin' for. My roach clip. You don't think I stopped getting high, do you? Once in awhile. It calms me down. Louis Armstrong used to smoke it everyday. He also made tapes of conversations he had with people in his home _ now is that a pothead or what? Sounds like Nixon.

While I'm here, I just want you to know, that as readers of this site you will not... never... be subjected to spam e-mail. I just had my own address _ my G-mail address, which had previously been untouched by those bastards... I started getting spam on it. And you wanna know who's responsible? The New Yorker. That's right: the NEWFUCKYORKER. Bunch of little fairies. I only bought that thing cuz my ex-wife wanted it. Put it on the coffee table. I read Barron's _ Forbes... Fortune. C'mon. Fuck. I sent them a, uh, customer service question, and the bastards sold my bloody address to INCREASE YOUR WANG SIZE. Listen to me, folks, if I wanted my wang to be bigger _ and I DON'T have to worry about that shit_ if I wanted it to be bigger, I WOULD BUY A BIGGER WANG. I'm loaded.

All right. That's enough. HEY KRAPUTNIK, YOU CAN HAVE YOUR COMPUTER BACK. Fucking fairy. Broad with glasses. Fuck. See you at the library, jagoff. Heh.

No comments: