The Blonde Spammer

Ok, let's start by saying it's marketing not spammimg. Got it. Say it out loud and slow...MMAARRKKKETTTIINNGG! Marketing is a skill, spamming is not. Now let's move onto the need to market online if you have a small business. Unfortunately people don't have ESP and without, you guessed it, MARKETING, they wouldn't know you exist.

So here's the scenario:
I was marketing my husband's business via email through my contacts. Each email contains a notation, for those stupid fucks who don't know the difference between spamming and marketing. It says, send me a stop message. And you guessed it...I"LL STOP. Really intricate here.
So one of my contacts messages me, a long dramatic litary of shit that ruined his day because I spammed him. God, it was lengthy, made him late for the doctor, ran out of gas, killed his dog...on and fucking on. I failed to look at the email address of the sender, as I am really busy WORKING. So I simply replied: You Sad Sap Son of a Bitch, you were late for the doctor because you don't give a shit whose time you waste, you ran out of gas because you are so consumed with road rage that you barely look at the gas gage, and your dog didn't die, he committed suicide as I would have done the same thing if I had to listen to your bullshit all day. Fuck Off your not worthy of my contact list!

After the message was sent I realized it was my dad's email address- YIKES!

Little People Being Used By Riverhead Town Police

So I pull out on the highway in Riverhead. Ahead I see the first signs of a police check point, maybe a mile away. So figuring I had plenty of time before they could see me I put on my seatbelt. Then confidently pull up to the checkpoint. The officer stuns me by asking me to pull over to the side of the road. Then begins to tell me that they saw me put on my seatbelt at the beginning of the checkpoint. I had to know, how did they do that. So I drove back down the road and pulled over to the side and watched. I'll be a son of bitch if a midget didn't jump out of the woods, dressed in uniform, with a polaroid camera. That little bastard ran to the checkpoint a mile away to give the officer in command the pictures. Is that legal, can I use height discrimination to get out of the ticket?


Anyone recognize him? Twenty five dollars or a bag of dope to whoever gets me an address!

UNDER CONSTRUCTION: Please Be Patient

Yes this will take me some time. I mean between writing, mothering, and running the Meth lab I am swamped. So pull the G-string out of your ass, sit back and have a beer, the site will be up soon.