Dear Old King Coal (ha ha, I do jest, I know you are really a baron and not a king – but it is nice to pretend sometimes, isn’t it?),
Ol’ Jed Bickers here, your pal from ‘palachia. I was running some ‘speriments in my backyard laboratory, and I believe I may have just made some strides forwards in clean coal technology. Since you are basically depending on clean coal as a desperate long-shot towards the feasibility of your industry, I thought you might be mildly interested in my results.
It is the finding of the IRS that your charity, Hugs for Slugs LLC, is in violation of multiple clauses of the U.S. Tax Code. For one thing, it is not a limited liability company at all, even though LLC is a part of its name. You claim that this stands for “sLLugs Can get hugs”, but we believe you are being deliberately misleading.
Another pressing issue is that your charity does not so much provide hugs for slugs, as it launders money for the mob.
Dear Foul Wretched Spawn of Society,
I am truly sorry your precious snowflake did her absolute damnedest to be removed twice from our store by stealing, moving her lips and producing such a great wind as to knock over merchandise, and then refusing to place it back where it belongs, which I see you’ve taught her well.
Dear Sir Richard, In response to your overly enthusiastic letter detailing your invention, and with the aid of several of the local youth we found wandering our grounds, we have completed several prototypes of your proposed design. We have begun the lab testing procedure, and are almost ready to release these into the market. There are, however, a few design choices I think you should reconsider.
You call yourself a director, but I call you a FOOL. Yes, sir, a fool of the first degree! And in this case, “first” is worse than “third”: it’s like murder, not burns. Which brings up the question: if I burn you to death, what degree would the fire be?
While I do appreciate the depth in which you feel things, specifically objects, more specifically plastic phallic objects, I do not understand why you feel the need to lick them in such a manner. While I am perfectly accepting of exploring oneself, I do not see the purpose in tasting oneself. If you happen to be in a lesbian experiment, and you wish to explore the flavors of your new friend, perhaps she would find it more reasonable to go straight to the source.
I know not the manner in which you came to be on my ceiling. Nor do I know why you struck my lower back as you fell from the ceiling to the back of my chair.
I’m sending you this e-mail because I just bought ebay item number 190353755240 (“FAKE POOP, PARTY FAVORS, FUNNY GAG GIFT FAKE HUMAN POOP”) from you for the Buy it Now price of $4.99 and I just realized that your shipping price is $68 for standard FedEx ground shipping. Now, I’ve done some research and found that for a standard fake turd the largest weight I could find was 0.74 pounds. And in your description it says the turd is about 4″ long so there are no concerns of dimensions that would drive up the shipping costs. This leads me to believe there was a mistake on your part, possibly a typographical error. Please correct this for me so that I can go ahead and let Paypal send you my payment.
We have completed the requested security report. We find that, while the newly redesigned Clunkline is impervious to most forms of internet tomfoolery, it is still vulnerable to some forms of “side-stream” attacks: attacks that come from outside a system, rather than within. For instance, a torrent of page requests that clogs your servers would be an in-system attack, but smacking your server with a sledgehammer would be side-stream.
Interestingly, hacking Clunkline’s password would be “brute force”, but breaking into your apartment, clubbing you to death, and stealing your server is side-stream. I dare say they have been misnamed! Back to the point. You should be aware that, in our test of your security protocols, our agents found it very easy to club you to death and steal your server.
I am writing to you about some problems I am having in your course, 37-267: Basics of Organic Chemistry. I am not sure how many of these problems you are aware of, or what you can do about them, but I hope you will be able to help me.
Firstly, your TA in my section, James Q. Wilkin, does not seem to have the students’ best interest in mind. He curves our quizzes arbitrarily, refuses to post his PowerPoint notes as required by the syllabus, gives quizzes on topics not covered in class or in the book, does not appear to understand the material, and occasionally pees on students. I strongly recommend you replace him as TA.
Preface by the Abbot Anslwyth in the time of King Henry VII:
These scripts, having been found on the old battlefield by a local farmer wound inside a glass spirits bottle, represent a great communication of our historic Royal Army from the time of the last offensive against the crown of England. Herein lie the last independent leaders of Gwynedd, and possibly insight into their demise. They are studiously replicated in the librarium of the Abbey by Brother Angloham.
July 14th, 1376
From: The camp of Lieutenant Llywelyn Fawr
To: His Lordship Owain Glyndŵr, Prince Of Gwynedd
Subj: For Gwynedd!!!
I just wanted to write to say how much of a fan I am of your work! Even here in Munich, whenever a poor paper-hanger like myself can scrap a few hundred thousand marks together, I can think of no better way to spend an afternoon than to watch you “tramp” about! A good joke, yes? I think I have a future as a writer, but am focusing on painting at the moment. I feel I just need a decisive look to define myself, and so I was writing to ask if I could use your trademark mustache to help with my own image?
You probably want this update only as much as I wanted this spam. But I thought this first piece explained a lot.
To: farkle-farkle’s_email@noneofyourbusiness.com
From: dirtybunny@cox.net
Date: Thu, Jul 23, 2009 at 10:20 PM
Subject: You’ll easily make girls addictive to your hot rod.
I’m so sorry I haven’t taken the time to write in a long while. My life’s gone down the rabbithole. I’m starting to think the only solution to this is for me to go back in time and kill my grandfather, so none of this ever happens.