How to Get a Girl to do Anything in Bed PART TWO

Ahh, this earthly realm. Is all that makes me happy receiving sexy spam emails?

Maybe, but not quite. Upon other things, I just registered for classes for the Fall 2009 at Villanova; however more on this when I A) have more time and B) am sober.

For now I leave you with my response to this email I received...

By yudhishthira the just, of great intelligence. O sinless
one, that i am about to tell thee is. Proceeded to demonstrate as he explained. Thenmy the lower bunk. He was dragged out. Another saturday morality. A brave
man, if bereft of understanding, hath been uttered by thee,
o king, with respect possible. 'my god! Thou deserted me!'
he murmured. Feeling greatly relieved that her suspicion
was back in america only a year. We met early in the parker
pillsbury, another preacher and lecturer, once more returned
to battle, proceeding to the illness, had been his favorite
beneath the tall flowed away, even so, o king, are these
lamentations is, that hardy plants under glass demand skilful.

Beautiful. As a point of clarification: the italicized portion of this entry is actually something I received in an email entitled "How to get a girl to do anything in Bed". There is a link at the top of the email, followed by this fantastic piece of literary genius.

This shit is heavy. I feel very bad for Parker Pillsbury... Has he indeed been released from this mortal coil!?

How to Get a Girl to do Anything in Bed PART ONE

So I would really like to update this fucking thing. But the past week I was busy doing big-people things. Like, visiting a grad school, getting a scholarship, visiting friends in Boston, and getting inebriated at a Chicago Cubs game with the donor of my Y chromosome (that means my father). Since I have such a passion to use this as some sort of artistic output/locale of things I find funny/self-pleasuring love blog I found something I can post that will NOT take up much time, but will be abso-fucking-lutely mindblowing. I present something I received in my SPAM file on gmail. Followed by 3 or 4 more when I gain the initiative to post them.

"With a hateful smile on his face. There was something at
one of the doors. Macleod became his fellowspectator within
the rail. There is a certain amount of."

Yes. This is the text for an email that promised to make my wang have more bang (HAH! It took only like three seconds to think of that, kapow!).

Macleod has quickly become my nickname for my close friends. Kind of like "Jobin". This email was a nice introduction into the intricacies of questionable prose. What is to come, however, will poetically blow your pants off of your face.

That is, if you wear pants on your face. Otherwise it'll just rock your world.