From my Spam folder....
Like this doggerel:
"Might seem good argument gives income developer invested.
Mistake always entitled long?
Describes less anyway closed, source, mind binaryonly.
Released, april whats new. Attacking ships cargo kidnapping murdering.
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Still pursuing customers signals exhausted customer! Former corporate hacker turned student eeye digital? Sorry, economics imagine sells low everytime. Hasnt language change expertise, gnulinux often needed.
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Almost seems to make sense, huh?
Or how about this:
"Thanks pm sorted problem elsewhere exactly.
Protocol running disparate, servers failsafe manner queue temporary storage. Where, you are open an try.
Put working day, days weeks month months year oldest.
Not really, sure what situation or where you. Just doesnt seem, properly, vmsgbox above.
Regardless, whether, doing missing something here thanks pm sorted.
Which be sent conditions permit.
Multiple operations wrapped single thus ensuring either none.
Reply powered by phpbb copy group. Com, properties achieving functional parity win api function calls.
Take effect msdtc access history see references external, linksedit.
Open an try this code".
But sometimes, it's (disturbing) stuff like this...
Oh, you don't want to read this is you like the horsies....
"I remember standing with Stanley in the late afternoons, a sandwich in hand, in front of the veterinary's which was just opposite my home. It always seemed to be late afternoon when Dr. McKinney elected to castrate a stallion, an operation which was done in public and which always gathered a small crowd. I remember the smell of the hot iron and the quiver of the horse's legs. Dr. McKinney's goatee, the taste of the raw onion and the smell of the sewer gas just behind us where they were laying in a new gas main. It was an olfactory performance through and through and, as Abelard so well describes it, practically painless. Not knowing the reason for the operation we used to hold long discussions afterwards which usually ended in a brawl. Nobody liked Dr. McKinney either: there was a smell of iodoform about him and of stale horse piss. Sometimes the gutter in front of his own office was filled with blood and in the winter time the blood froze into the ice and gave a strange look to his sidewalk. Now and then the big two-wheeled cart came, an open cart which smelled like the devil, and they whisked a dead horse into it. Rather it was hoisted in, the carcass, by a long chain which made a creaking noise like the dropping of an anchor. The smell of a bloated dead horse is a foul smell and our street was full of foul smells. On the comer was Paul Sauer's place where raw hides and trimmed hides were stacked up in the street: they stank frightfully too. And then the acrid odour coming from the tin factory behind the house - like the smell of modern progress. The smell of a dead horse, which is almost unbearable, is still a thousand times better than the smell of burning chemicals. And the sight of a dead horse with a bullet hole in the temple, his head lying in a pool of blood and his asshole bursting with the last spasmic evacuation, is still a better sight than that of a group of men in blue aprons coming out of the arched doorway of the tin factory with a hand-truck loaded with bales of fresh-made tin. Fortunately for us there was a bakery opposite the tin factory and from the back door of the bakery, which was only a grill, we could watch the bakers at work and get the sweet, irresistible odour of bread and cake".
....Hmmm.... The irresistible odour of bread and cake and long discussions which usually end in brawls.
Sign me up!
So Ed, how's the wife?
PS. Seems like the ol' Science Monster banned my IP range........ Whatever it was, I didn't do it!
PPS. I've got some cool Kirby stuff prepped for tomorrow or Friday to make up for the above.