Sometimes I just have to share what pops into my inbox while you guys aren't watching. I love this e-mail, personally. From now on, I'd like to be known as just "B." That's even better than just one word names; that's taking it to the next level - just a letter.

The subject line was "Insane Happy Happy Hour."

Yeah, ok...Maine sucks at life. However, look at those fucked up accents. They're hair is lame too. I don't think there's any zinc or vitamin E in lobster. Pretty sure now.

I just look at em (y'know, cuz I can see Maine from my apartment) & say,"Go on. Keep breeding." They're making exponentially more mo's right now. RIGHT NOW, B.

In a bizarre turn of quotationalism, I would like to call upon the ghost of Marilyn Manson, who said,"It is your world in which we grow, and we will grow to hate you."

They're making babies with a combo of piss and vinegar in lobsterland, and it's only a matter of time before those biggots will have to eat their hats and marry off their many many gay children. Unlike the 50s, they won't exactly be moving to California anymore, will they? I think prop 8 made a bigger, badder, stronger monster.

In summary: At least everyone is mad as hell.

*bow* thank you for your time,

Your Local Recruiter

Yeah. What he said.