We met in the airport and you droned on about typing like the relentless little spamming entrepreneuse that you are. Didn't you see my hands? Do you really think typing is for the likes of me? I cut all of my letters out of newspapers and glue them down with blood and semen. Earning a few extra pounds from working at home would be a distraction from my real interests. I can grip scissors, knives, rocks, I can carve manifestoes in flesh - your offer is unwelcome.
3 comments:
Oh Anna, how kind of you. Unfortunately all of the bags I use are made from flayed scrotums, so your cheap shit won't really cut it. If you ever move into inflated offal, though, I'm your man.
In the meantime, as I don't wish to be distracted whilst wielding sharp blades, I'll just put the letter-recognition spam-filter back on, eh?
How offal! I think this is the same woman who was bugging you forever at the airport at 3am. No offense to any bugs who may be weeding this. But her haircut seems so similar, that seductive, icy barrier.
I think you are destined to be stalked forever by InaneImports.
Luckily, your protection has arrived. I see that the word- verification for this comment I'm making is 'bzteyz.'
Obviously there's room for personal interpretation of that, but it could be suggesting that she can only be combatted by you continually having Beast Eyes.
Beast Eyes and now, apparently, a Cock Book (kocbwkk). I also recommend the snarling from beyond the grave orchestrated by the demonic wheelchair-bound figure to the right of the word verification box. If you listen to it backwards it plays heavy metal records.
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