I am shameless. I support the pointless spammage of other people's inboxes =]
This is basically a whole bunch of ramblings and I have a very creepy crawly feeling that nobody is going to read them -sobs-
So you may be wondering why I am currently spamming your inbox? Could it be that I am pathetically lonely and feel the need to connect to faceless insomniacs such as myself on a lonesome Sunday night that would be better spent sucking face with the love of my life (who seems to have committed quiet and painless suicide on a small, nameless island in the Aegean sea)? Or am I using you in my evil plan of procrastination, making you tools in my game of life, twisting the strings of your puppet like self to support my plans of world domination and total tyranny after I completely flunk global history for never doing my homework? Or is it that I am suffering from a sugar rush which oddly involved no sugar but did involve a cough drop wrapper and those little springs you find inside your pens when you break them open in an homicidal rage, or just when you screw the top off?
It could be all three, so be afraid, be very very afraid.
For those who are still with me, you might be slowly backing away from your computer monitors in fear that reading any more of blasphemous words, your brain may spontaneously combust and you might lose eyesight in half of your left eye. However be calmed. My power of evil currently only manifests itself in paper clips that have been bent out of shape and abandoned pink power ranger dolls. Fortunately (for me not you) I am widening my range and slowly moivng onto rocks shaped like your great aunt's nose.
As you are now getting bored of all these pointless and useless words and have suddenly realized that you have wasted about 2.7875021750 minutes of your life (supposing that you have a reading rate of a gazillion words per minute) and have had several braincells commit massive genocide in the left portion of your brain, you might feel the need to leave me angry comments and accuse me of trying to skewer your brain with a psychic spork. And while this may be true, I must warn you that sporks are the spawn of the devil and forks always pwn spoons.
And one last note, if you are over fifteen, over stressed, over worked, and have over suppressed sexual frustration, you are eligible for my offer of joining the army of doom and cheese. Hours are reasonable and wages are high. Job may cause death, death by spitballs, death by staples, death by papercuts, mental trauma, psychological disorders, need to spontanously burst into christmas carols, need to drink obscene ammounts of v8 juice, and last but not least, death by hyperventilation as your suppress your joy at receiving this invitation
