Hundreds Of Owls

I just bought some stupid thing on Eggslist today. That website is full of jerks. Everybody writes advertisements that are so bossy and rude. They always tell you not to low ball them or they spell things wrong and act like it,s the right way. Big jerks. They only good part of that website is the casual encounters section.

Once, I put an ad on there looking for a woman who would let me spit in her face, preferably in front of her children, for twenty dollars. Sweet deal, right? I thought so, but the only responses I got were from African princesses who,s emails were all very long-winded and misspelled about how their fathers had just been wrongly jailed and how they needed thousands of dollars to return him to the throne. Return Him To The Throne would be a good metal band name. I was so expecting throngs of Light Rail mommas to read my posting on their way to the food bank on their stolen 2002 blackberries and make a quick stop at my front door so I could cover their open sores with an American Loogie. They would then thank me for my kindness and walk away holding their stunned daughter,s hand.

Void - Condensed Flash
So the email correspondence I had a few hours ago with the goon I was buying my drugs from online was disheartening. Call me old fashioned, but I remember a time when people could construct coherent sentences and ideas. Apparently, those days are well and gone. Here is a little taste of what my new friend Mark Wroblewski and I wrote to each other.

First, like any destitute young gentleman, I asked if I could purchase his wares at a price well below what he was asking. He responded with -

ye. i need 60 for it. i live in midtown, u can come pick it up. txt me 412-370-7307

I then attempted to arrange a time for us to meet up for the drug deal. He responded with -

ok. it would be better if u could come like now...i mite be busy later, i can bring it to you if yr in midtown or downtown or werever.

I obliged and told him we could meet ,,like now,,. He responded with -

ye that works. i live rite by there. il c ya in an hour

It seems that the more he was forced to interact using the written word, the further he digressed into a state of txtual childhood. It just got crazier from there. When I actually met the guy he spoke the same way. He said ye instead of yes or yeah. I didn,t get it. He just kept telling me about his new guitar and how cool it was. I quickly backpedaled to the safety of anywhere that wasn,t near his weird, patchwork facial hair. I hate that guy. The drugs he sold me were all sticky.

R.I.P. Richard Dunn