an open letter from spam to you

Apologies, Mr. Barthelme. Enjoy.





Dear you,

I thought I'd be a good time.

I just found out that now that Cyrus is working, I've still got to move over both Pookadook and Neshel to my first real engineering project. With a *really* nasty virus that's been "pressing" since the weekend, I'm going to kick them out of the door later (also because Allison is working a lot). This isn't a slam against Americans, just the dumbasses who produce crap like this.

The UN is not a terrorist organization, despite my best efforts. Since Allison got into teacher's college yesterday, I got her a nice shiny iBook with DVD burning and everything. It's kind of weird being approved to buy a house. Allison is off to do the last (hopefully trivial) things; I think both of us are looking forward to finding a place to live. It's just the dumbasses who produce crap like this.

Try and break the beard-eating habit. Stop procrastinating instead of doing. Eat better. Spend money more wisely. In short, only in Canada can you get rid of some crud and still be a ball of flames.

I think I've finally crossed the part in my life where I've beaten panic, rush, hurry. The real moral of all this: who cares if they're bad? Work in the last few days has been insane.

As an aside, I was sleeping for a while.

I've still got to see him right now, but it's best not to tempt fate. Watch more movies. Who cares if they're bad?

Love,

Spam