Yearend Email Reviewal

Answers to 9 Jan 2017 post entitled ‘Hows Your Shoe Sense? E,C,H,A,J,F,I,B,G,D

 

At the end of each year one should spend a little time reviewing email messages they received over the past 12 months. My thanks to all of those who have sent me emails this past year.

My special thanks to whoever sent me the one about rat shit in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet towel with every envelope that needs sealing. Also, I now have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.

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.

I no longer have any money at all, but 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 or from the senior bank clerk in Nigeria who wants to split $7 million with me for pretending to be a long-lost relative of a customer who died intestate.

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

Thanks to an individual, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an e-mail to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes.

Because of someone’s concern I no longer drink Coca-Cola because it can remove toilet stains.

I no longer can buy gas without taking another man along to watch the car so a serial killer won’t crawl in my back seat when I’m filling up.

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

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.

Thanks to someone, 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 ass.

And thanks to someone for their great advice, I couldn’t even pick up the $5.00 I found dropped in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a sex molester waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.

And I’ve found out that if I don’t send an e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on my head at 5:00 p.m. this afternoon and the fleas from 12 camels will infest my back, causing me to grow a hairy lump. 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.

By the way … A South American scientist, after a lengthy study, has discovered that people with low IQs have infrequent sexual activity and always read their e-mails and posts with their hand on the mouse. Don’t bother taking it off now, it’s too late.

Keep your fork

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