From: U8fyh3jd92jv@yahoo.com
Subject: My Dick

Boy, let me tell you, if there's one thing in this world that I am grateful for, it's my enormous penis.

It's like, many men will spend their entire lives in pursuit of what I was given from the outset. I don't blame them, having a giant schlong is the most important thing in the world. You may think you're happy with what you've got, but you don't know happiness until you've held an incredibly huge tube of man-flesh in your hands and known that it was yours.

You wouldn't believe how much easier it makes my life. I don't feel compelled to buy ridiculous sports cars, outrageously expensive designer clothes, or a large collection of weaponry in order to make people believe I'm packing at a magnitude proportial to my purchases. I don't need to waste time picking fights with strangers, harassing animals, or invading foreign countries in an attempt to increase other's perception of the size of my unit.

No, there is no need for me to advertise in such a manner. My wares sell themselves. People can sense it, much like dogs can sense fear. Men gaze in awe or spit and curse in jealousy as a stride amongst them. Women moisten themselves immediately upon hearing me speak, knowing that it is the voice of a man with a tremendous weiner.

And speaking of women, I've got to tell you that ladies love the monster cock in the sack. Many men think that they may satisfy their wives or girlfriends or hookers (another inconvenience with which I do not trouble), but they're dead wrong. True female satisfaction only comes from having over a foot of warm flesh crammed into them. Women may not like to admit this, but the honest ones wil tell you that it's the truth.

Now, I can't be sure, but I'll bet that you may not have such a ludicously gargantuan chode. You may be asking yourself right now, "What is the point of living with my tiny, laughable penis? I was not born with such magnificence, and am thus rendered an innefectual embarassment of nature." Fear not, my friend. You too can have all the happiness you've ever wanted. Simply click here to turn all that soon-to-be-useless money into what you're really longing for: dick.

And if you're already hung like a donkey, and are having trouble finding others like yourself with which to share the big dick experience, click here.

(With help form POE.

Today I heard the phrase "next-level porn".

I have to wonder.

I watched a little TV tonight, and I just have this to say:
Celebrity Justice is actually a show? I mean, like, this is real? This is what we've come to? Wow, that's really amazing. That's really really amazing. I mean, I've heard of Joe Millionairre and Elimadate and even seen an episode of Fear Factor, but I mean wow, really.

When I'm 50+, if anyone gives me crap about still playing video games at my age, I'm just going to say, "Do you still watch television? Then I wouldn't talk." That'll show 'em.

I'm currently reading a book about the links between scientific genius and mental disorders like Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. Apparently the two are often found together, and Schizophrenia lends itself to great artistry. Man, I wish I had a mental disorder. I wonder what kind of greatness is linked to incessant whining?

Dial-up is in effect, baybee!! Running 24.4 at 640x480, it's like 1995 all over again! Ah yes. Well, here's my observation for today:

People down here still use those little United States flags that clip onto your car windows. One on each side. See below for previous days reports.

One interesting thing about being stuck here is the fact that my social group is now pretty much limited to my co-workers. I'll certainly be visiting with my SoCal friends soon, but I'm expecting 60-70 hour work weeks, and then I'll return to the hotel suite where me and my fellow professionals are staying. So of course I'm interacting solely with gamers at this point.

This leads to activities which only a group of gamers stuck in a Homestead Suites would resort to, so as watching The Last Starfighter (the finest CGI 1984 had to offer) and making a noticeable dent in the booze collection I hauled down with me. Now that Alex kid in the film was hard. core. Granted, that Starfighter game was the only thing going in their trailer park. I mean, did you see how everybody and their grandma came running when he finally finished the game? That was because they didn't even have the NES in 1984. But at least they gave Alex the appreciation and respect he deserved for being able to defeat the entire Kodan armada on one quarter. And for his efforts, he received the honor of being shot at by aliens in a distant galaxy while a robot made time with his girlfriend. What a cool dude!

In my quest to be as colossal a bad-ass as Alex, I've recently embarked upon a journey of personal growth and self-discovery. I've been validating my hardcore-ness by taking self-inflicted retro-gaming challenges, finishing all those games I never got a chance to back in the day. So far I've managed to finish the original Contra without continuing, plough all the way through the original Rygar in a single sitting, finish The Legend of Zelda's second quest, and make it 2/3 of the way through Mike Tyson's Punch Out! without so much as glancing at a walkthrough. I've got my Genesis with me here at the hotel, and I'm hoping that before I ship back home, I'll have finished Contra: Hard Corps and Sonic 3. I know it's a daunting task, but what can I say? I'm a baller. If I were a 10-year old in 1987, rest assured that the fact that I can get through Contra without continuing would earn me mad playground props.

Kids these days (Yes, I realize that once you use the phrase "Kids these days" in a non-ironic manner, you are officially an old fogey) really don't have appreciation for how difficult games once were. These days you have crap like Memory Cards (8MB) for PS2, and some PC games let you save wherever you want. Wherever you want! Back in the day we fell down on our knees and thanked the lord if our NES cartridge had battery backup. For most games in those times, "saving your game" meant leaving it on pause overnight! We didn't have GameFAQS, we had to actually talk to other kids at school and learn that you had to punch Bald Bull in the bellybutton. Rapscallions these days don't know how easy they've got it!

Okay, my dentures are becoming dislodged. I sound liek frickin' Cranky Kong. Time to take another crack at that consarn Red Falcon.

(P.S. OMG!!! I've discovered that if I leave the bathroom door open while I take a leak, I can watch the television in the mirror while I'm draingi the lizard! This kicks so much ass!!!11)

Hello,

I am now living in Irvine, working on a project about which I can tell you nothing, sorry. I will, however, try to keep this thing updated with whatever thoughts or tales of life experience, if I have any free time for thinking or having life experiences.

The drive down was quick, save for a brief bout with stop-and-go-ness on 405. So, I consider waiting in traffic very analogous to waiting in line for an event, such as a ride at Disneyland or a movie, and if I'm waiting in line for an event, I expect the payoff at the end to be worth the wait. Thus, if I'm waiting in traffic because of some accident that everyone needs to slow down for, I expect the accident itself to be pretty spectacular. For the amount of time that we waited in line, I was hoping for at least and upside-down car, half a car, or a car on fire. We did get to see a sideways car, which is pretty cool, because when you think about it, that's probably rarer than an upside-down car, and much better than no accident at all.

I'm currently writing this on my poor computer, stripped of peripherals and internet connectivity (and somehow now stuck in 640x480 resolution), and planning on transferring the text via disk to work, where I can post it up really quickly as I check my e-mail. I'm not sure if I should sew the diskette to the inside of my sleeze or if I should tuck it into my pants waist at the small of my back, they rarely look there. I know, I'll do one of each.

I've just returned from racking up the largest sushi bill I have ever seen 4 people accrue from a place at the Irvine Spectrum. A word on the Irvine Spectrum: Bling. We're on the company's tab, though, so it ain't no thang, bring on the $15 jalepeno rolls! I know it's gross, but it's the most expensive thing you got! How about you write my family name on hundreds of pieces of rice, roll it around a piece of dolphin and then wrap that in the deed to Hearst Castle? How much would that cost? (or diamond-stuffed lobster?)

My suite is pretty nice. I get a little kitchen with a hobbit-sized fridge (it's great, it's just like a 3/4-scale regular fridge, so I feel like 8' 4" when I walk up to it. When I win the lottery, all the stuff in my house is going to be this size! (Except the toilet and the TV)), and a range and a plastic plany and all that. The bathroom has a mirror behind the toilet, so that one may watch oneself urinate, which is great, because I'm really into that. Best of all, I'm the only one living here, I can take go #2 with the bathroom door wide open, jump on the bed in my underwear or whack off at the TV.

And boy can I ever whack off at the TV! I get, like 20 whole channels! And some of them even have shows that I've heard people talk about! I'm kind of scared, though, because I just know if I start watching these things, I'm going to want to get cable when I get home.

Oddly enough, the TV does not have any RCA jacks, only coaxial! Fortunately, I brought my Sega Genesis. By now my co-workers have probably encountered this problem with their next-gen Xboxes and PS2's and cannot play anything until they buy a converter, but I can play Sonic the Hedgehog ot my heart's content. Who's laughing now, I ask you?

On the minus side, I'm going to really miss all of my friends, and Ami, and my family, but not San Jose... Sorry San Jose, but you suck.

Oh, and the drapes are printed with a pattern of grapes, apples, cherries and magnolias. Why the fuck would anyone want fruit salad drapery? I guess they match the green, gold, navy blue and fuschia bedspread. Gag. Is there some rule that hotel rooms must be composed of godawful printed fabrics? Is it somehow cheaper than just white or blue-grey (which would be my choice, the carpet could even stay.) fabrics?

Jeez, I'm complaining about the drapes. Okay, time for bed.