At least once a day I think to myself, “Man, stop the spam already..“. I save all of my spam, and May has topped 10,000 e-mails, somehow. The past few months have been around 3000-4000. I hate spam. Well, the other day I found a spam or two that I didn’t mind receiving. My spam filter missed them, and so I was forced to read their content. The body of the e-mails remind me of At The Drive-In lyrics, or something.

And dance with the dark side of her fruit cake.When you see razor blade around stalactite, it means that grizzly bear behind dust bunny reads a magazine.When related to dilettante hibernates, mastadon toward salad dressing takes a coffee break.wheelbarrow defined by cashier assimilate blithe spirit living with, or bartender for dance with trombone for asteroid.

Any pit viper can share a shower with graduated cylinder about, but it takes a real line dancer to garbage can behind.bubble baths remain fat.razor blade inside girl is boiled.And eat the dark side of her cream puff.

You don’t sweat, you percolate.

You ski uphill.

Every time I read those, I am left wanting more. It’s like poetry. I guess I’m officially weird.