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more like space greatest hits :: fearful spammetry

please just let me whine at you a little; oh god i am so sick!!!! why am i even here? not just on this business trip, i mean on this planet. i can't even remember the last time a cold got me this bad. this is a phlegm-festival straight from satan's nostrils. also i coughed up blood earlier. not because there's anything terribly wrong, it's just that i've coughed so much that bits are starting to come loose. i'm supposed to go to a client dinner tonight, which i predict will result in us losing several accounts and a couple of lawsuits.

here's a poem i wrote from bits of email spam.

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spam mail is useless you say? NOT SO! for instance, it can be used to create new and interesting things, such as this little poem i threw together entirely from the bung in my spam filter...

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What stops loving
It’s about you or no?
Your loads of pleasure
Accumulator of your desire
Become virile like a rabbit
Make her your rod’s slave
You’ll surprise her with your hulk
Blow her with your hormones
Become a perpetuum mobile of love
This is, indeed, to ride like an angel in the whirlwind and direct the storm:
like an angel whose mercy is equal to his power.

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Hey, why do you not write?
Please answer me
It’s about you or no?
What stops loving
Stop night fails!
Nothing heals better
Set your wife on fire
Uplong our dignity
Please read
I am very unhappy without you

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Why do you cost me?
Economy in crisis and you
We care about your body
Natural to his age, nay his fortune and his blood, on the altar of our liberty.
STOP your pain NOW
Buy cheap Vicodin (hydrocodone)
Be active and want more girls
Get maximum form love
It’s about you or no?
I keep coming upon such thoughtful gifts which you sent to us
Your private video here

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Comments

as long as you're here, why not read more?

wrong turn

as some of you are aware, i have a long-term project building a family tree. this has led me to some really interesting discoveries, like the fact that i am partly descended from crazy cat people, including the patron saint of crazy cat ladies, that a progenitor of mine once defeated a french naval assault with an army of scarecrows, that my well-established scottish roots are just as much norwegian as scottish, and that a relative of mine from the early middle ages let one rip with such ferocity that that's basically all he's remembered for. but this week, while i was in the midst of adding some newly obtained information, i found that some of my previous research had gone in an unexpected direction: the wrong one.

where possible, i try to track down stories of my better-known relatives and in doing so this week, i realised that i couldn't connect one of my greatĖ£ grandfathers to his son through any outside sources. what's worse that i found numerous sources that con…

dj kali & mr. dna @ casa del popolo post-punk night

last night was a blast! a big thank you to dj tyg for letting us guest star on her monthly night, because we had a great time. my set was a little more reminiscent of the sets that i used to do at katacombes [i.e., less prone to strange meanderings than what you normally hear at the caustic lounge]. i actually invited someone to the night with the promise "don't worry, it'll be normal". which also gives you an idea of what to expect at the caustic lounge. behold my marketing genius.

mr. dna started off putting the "punk" into the night [which i think technically means i was responsible for the post, which doesn't sound quite so exciting]. i'd say that he definitely had the edge in the bouncy energy department.

many thanks to those who stopped in throughout the night to share in the tunes, the booze and the remarkably tasty nachos and a special thank you to the ska boss who stuck it out until the end of the night and gave our weary bones a ride home…

eat the cup 2018, part seven :: oh, lionheart

it all seemed so magical: england's fresh-faced youngsters marching all the way through to a semi-final for the first time since 1990. everywhere, the delirious chants of "it's coming home". and then, deep into added time, the sad realization: it's not coming home. oh england, my lionheart.

now, if we're being really strict about things, my scottish ancestors would probably disown me for supporting England, because those are the bastards who drove them off their land and sent them packing to this country that's too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter. and indeed, shops in scotland have sold through their entire stock of croatian jerseys, as the natives rallied behind england's opponents in the semi-final. however, a few generations before they were starved and hounded from the lands they'd occupied for centuries, my particular brand of scottish ancestors would have encouraged me to support england [assuming that national football had even…