It’s Tuesday morning and I can’t think of anything to write about except for the fact that my desk is finally clean. I can in this morning with zero crap from last night, but that’s boring. Yawn. Instead I have some questions that I want answered.
Why am I calling it writing when I’m actually typing?
Why haven’t Paris Hilton and the rest of her bimbo friends (past and present) been sterilized so they can’t pass on the stupid gene?
Why am I receiving over 100 pieces of spam a day?
Do I really need my penis to be bigger?
Why do I need to use the Internet to buy prescription drugs from
Do I really need to buy real estate from
Does George W really think he’s fooling anybody?
Who thought up the idea of fruitcake?
Will Sony ever get its head out of its ass?
Why did Angelina Jolie never response to my marriage proposal?
Will the RIAA ever learn that suing their customers is a BAD business model?
Will I ever come up with anything profound to say?
My 2 Bytes.
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