heard it through the grapevine
Another day, another scam.
I first heard of Word-of-Mouth this morning, at Laurenceís place. Then I started receiving emails from the same URL as Laurence, emails telling me that someone was looking to spread gossip or search for information about me and I can find out just what that gossip is for only $19.97!. Then Kevin over at Wizbang wrote about it, and explained the scam.
Now, Iím not going to fall for this and pay someone to find out what people are saying about me. I get that for free by going to certain blogs. But it does leave me quite curious. Just what are people looking for and, more importantly, what kind of gossip are they spreading about me?
Well, donít go dropping good money that can otherwise be spent on Nigerian consulates who offer you fortunes or a bigger penis in ten days. Iím sure you heard all the rumors as it is, and you donít need some scam website to confirm them for you for cash. Iíll confirm every rumor for you, and then you can put your wallet away and get the added benefit of not having to rummage through certain blogs and the ensuing comments to get to know the real me. Itís like free beer - free foamy, watery, tap beer. In a dirty glass.
I am really a 250 lb midget who moonlights at a circus, doing double duty as both the bearded lady and the one who steps in lion shit so the clowns can point at me and laugh. Makes the kids laugh like crazy. I spend my days offering sex to strangers in order to combat my deep-seated need to feel loved, even if that love is only physical. Once in a while you can find me in a seedy neighborhood bar, throwing darts and playing Tammy Wynette on the jukebox. I drink Tanqueray, straight out of the bottle. I donít really have any kids. Sometimes Iíll go to an orphanage to see if thereís a kid I can take out for the day, then weíll go stand in front of Penn Station and panhandle. People canít resist a begging kid, especially a five-year old orphan in a wheelchair, holding a sign that says ďMy daddy is Carson Daily and he wonít give me any money, but he bought that Tara Reid whore her tits.Ē On Saturdays I drink the blood of the small kittens I sacrifice. Sundays are a day of rest, so youíll find me on my back, making some extra money, usually behind the 7-11, where the drunk old men hang out. I roll them for money when Iím done with them, then blow it all on Mountain Dew Slurpees, topped off with whatever leftover liquor I can find in my motherís garbage. I used to run guns for Castro, I slept with Noriega and Imelda Marcos (but not at the same time), I have ties to a militant group on the Island of Misfit Toys and I voted for Nader in the last election.
There, now put the ten bucks back in your wallet and back away from those other comment sections. The truth has set me free.