Summary of my Last Year on the Internet...

[Timberwolf]

via email...enjoy...

I NOW HAVE TO:

1. scrub the top of every can I open.

2. I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny Brown) who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time.

3. I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program.

4. I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me, and St. Theresa's novena has granted my every wish.

5. I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.

6. I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day.

7. I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an email to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes.

8. I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains.

9. I no longer can buy gasoline without taking someone along to watch the car so a serial killer won't crawl in my back seat when I'm pumping gas.

10. I no longer drink Pepsi or Dr.. Pepper since the people who make these products are atheists who refuse to put "Under God" on their cans .

11. I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer.

12. I can't boil a cup of water in the microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face...disfiguring me for life.

13. I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be pricked with an infected needle.

14. I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me.

15. I no longer receive packages from UPS or FedEx since they are actually Al Qaeda in disguise.

16. I no longer shop at Target since they are French and don't support our American troops or the Salvation Army.

17. I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore, and Uzbekistan.

18. I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now have their recipe.

19. I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because a big brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant death when it bites my butt.

20. I can't ever pick up $5.00 I dropped in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a sex molester waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.

21. I can no longer drive my car because I can't buy gas from certain gas companies!

** If you don't send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large duck will land on your head at 5:00 PM this afternoon and the fleas from 12 camels will infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician...

Have a wonderful day....

[DoctorDoom]

But wait! There's more!


The Ultimate Virus

There is a computer virus that is being sent across the Internet. If you receive an e-mail message with the subject line "Free Money," DO NOT read the message. DELETE it immediately, UNPLUG your computer, then BURN IT to ASHES in a government-approved toxic waste disposal INCINERATOR.

Once a computer is infected, it will be TOO LATE. Your computer will begin to emit a vile ODOR. Then it will secrete a foul, milky DISCHARGE. Verily, it shall SCREECH with the tortured, monitor-shattering SCREAM of 1,000 hell-scorched souls, drawing unwanted attention to your cubicle from co-workers and supervisors alike. After violently ripping itself from the wall, your computer will punch through your office window as it STREAKS into the night, HOWLING like a BANSHEE. Once free, it will spend the rest of its days TORTURING household PETS and MOCKING the POPE.

Some filthy, disgusting miscreant ... some no-good, low-down, good-for-nothing DIRTY SNAKE, in twisted pursuit of his own sadistic dreams, is sending this virus across the Net via an e-mail entitled "Free Money." What is so terrifying about this virus is that you do not even to have to open the e-mail for it to activate. In fact, you do not even need to RECEIVE the e-mail. You do not even need to OWN a COMPUTER. "Free Money" can infect even minor HOUSEHOLD APPLIANCES.

How it does this with straight ASCII code is, frankly, a matter of some debate ... but BELIEVE YOU US, if this weren't a SERIOUS situation, we wouldn't be discussing it in ALL CAPS.

So for the LOVE OF GOD, forward this e-mail to all those you claim to care about, all those you purport to love. Don't do it later! Do it Now! Now! Now! NOW! NOW! NOW!

<hr>
Virus Alert

READ THIS:

Goodtimes will re-write your hard drive. Not only that, but it will scramble any disks that are even close to your computer. It will recalibrate your refrigerator's coolness setting so all your ice cream goes melty. It will demagnetize the strips on all your credit cards, screw up the tracking on your VCR and use subspace field harmonics to scratch any CD's you try to play.

It will give your ex-girlfriend your new phone number. It will mix Kool-aid into your fishtank. It will drink all your beer and leave its socks out on the coffee table when there's company coming over. It will put a dead kitten in the back pocket of your good suit pants and hide your car keys when you are late for work. Goodtimes will make you fall in love with a penguin. It will give you nightmares about circus midgets.

It will pour sugar in your gas tank and shave off both your eyebrows while dating your girlfriend behind your back and billing the dinner and hotel room to your Discover card. It will seduce your grandmother. It does not matter if she is dead. Such is the power of Goodtimes that it reaches out beyond the grave to sully those things we hold most dear. It moves your car randomly around parking lots so you can't find it. It will kick your dog. It will leave libidinous messages on your boss's voice mail in your voice!

It is insidious and subtle. It is dangerous and terrifying to behold. It is also a rather interesting shade of mauve. Goodtimes will give you Dutch Elm disease. It will leave the toilet seat up. It will make a batch of Methamphetamine in your bathtub and then leave bacon cooking on the stove while it goes out to chase gradeschoolers with your new snowblower.

It cannot do anything to you. But I can. I am sending this message to everyone in the world. Tell your friends, tell your family.

<hr>
The Ultimate Urban Legend

I was on my way to the post office to pick up my case of free M&M's (sent to me because I forwarded an e-mail to five other people, celebrating the fact that the year 2000 is "MM" in Roman numerals), when I ran into a friend whose neighbor, a young man, was home recovering from having been served a rat in his bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken (which is predictable, since as everyone knows, there's no actual chicken in Kentucky Fried Chicken, which is why the government made them change their name to KFC).

Anyway, one day this guy went to sleep and when he awoke he was in his bathtub and it was full of ice and he was sore all over and when he got out of the tub he realized that HIS KIDNEY HAD BEEN STOLEN. He saw a note on his mirror that said "Call 911!" but he was afraid to use his phone because it was connected to his computer, and there was a virus on his computer that would destroy his hard drive if he opened an e-mail entitled "Join the crew!"

He knew it wasn't a hoax because he himself was a computer programmer who was working on software to prevent a global disaster in which all of the computers get together and distribute the $250 Neiman-Marcus cookie recipe under the leadership of Bill Gates. (It's true - I read it all last week in a mass e-mail from BILL GATES HIMSELF, who was also promising me a free Disney World vacation and $5,000 if I would forward the e-mail to everyone I know.)

The poor man then tried to call 911 from a pay phone to report his missing kidneys, but a voice on the line first asked him to press #90, which unwittingly gave the bandit full access to the phone line at the guy's expense. Then reaching into the coin-return slot he got jabbed with an HIV-infected needle around which was wrapped a note that said, "Welcome to the world of AIDS."

Luckily he was only a few blocks from the hospital- the one where that little boy who is dying of cancer is, the one whose last wish is for everyone in the world to send him an e-mail and the American Cancer Society has agreed to pay him a nickel for every e-mail he receives. I sent him two e-mails and one of them was a bunch of x's and o's in the shape of an angel (if you get it and forward it to more than 10 people, you will have good luck but for 10 people only you will only have OK luck and if you send it to fewer than 10 people you will have BAD LUCK FOR SEVEN YEARS).

So anyway the poor guy tried to drive himself to the hospital, but on the way he noticed another car driving without its lights on. To be helpful, he flashed his lights at him and was promptly shot as part of a gang initiation.

Send THIS to all the friends who send you their junk mail and you will receive 4 green M&Ms - if you don't, the owner of Proctor and Gamble will report you to his Satanist friends and you will have more bad luck: you will get sick from the Sodium Laureth Sulfate in your shampoo, your spouse/mate will develop a skin rash from using the antiperspirant which clogs the pores under your arms, and the U.S. government will put a tax on your e-mails forever.

I know this is all true 'cause I read it on the Internet.

<hr>
Billy nobody

I know you all are very caring people:

I am a very sick little boy. My mother is typing this for me, because I can't. She is crying. Don't cry, Mommy!

Mommy is always sad, but she says it's not my fault. I asked her if it was God's fault, but she didn't answer, and only started crying harder, so I don't ask her that anymore.

The reason she is so sad is that I'm so sick. I was born without a body. It doesn't hurt, except when I go to sleep.

The doctors gave me an artificial body. My body is a burlap bag filled with leaves. The doctors said that was the best they could do on account of us havin' no money or insurance. I would like to have a body transplant, but we need more money.

Mommy doesn't work because she said employers don't hire crying people. I said, "Don't cry, Mommy," and she hugged my burlap body. Mommy always gives me hugs, even though she's allergic to burlap, and it chafes her real bad. I hope you will help me. You can help me if you forward this e-mail.

Dr. Van Nostrem from the clinic said if you forward this e-mail then Bill Gates will team up with AOL and do a survey with NASA. Then the astronauts will collect prayers from school children all over America and take them up to space so that the angels can hear them better. Then they will go to the Pope, and he will take up a collection in church and send the money to the doctors. The doctors could help me better then. Maybe one day I will be able to play baseball. Right now I can only be third base. Or maybe just use my lungs and heart, when the doctors make them. The doctors said that every time you forward this letter, the astronauts can take another prayer to the angels.

Please help me. Mommy is so sad, and I want a body. I don't want my leaves to rot before I turn 10. If you don't forward this e-mail, that's OK. Mommy says you're a mean heartless shithead who doesn't care about a poor little boy with only a head. She says that if you don't stew in the raw pit of your own guilt-ridden stomach, she hopes you die a long slow horrible death so you can burn forever in hell. What kind of person are you that you can't take five f**king minutes to forward this to all your friends so that they can feel guilt and shame for the rest of their day, and then maybe help a poor, bodiless nine-year-old boy?

Please help me. This really sucks. I try to be happy, but it's hard.

I wish I had a kitty. I wish I could hold a kitty. I wish I could hold a kitty that wouldn't chew on me and try to bury its turds in the leaves of my burlap body. I wish that Very much.


Thank You.

Billy 'Smiles' Evans, the boy with just a head. And a burlap sack for a body.