Why stop there ! I'm going to get someone to wipe my ass, too.

It's be kind of annoying.

I never shave anyway. Hair only really grows on a small area of my front lower shins.

fuck no, pussy waxing is enough!

I prefer pussy whipped, bikini kill album. Now enough.
Joke end. ¬ ¬

pretty sure u have my number. offer ends soon.

I've got dibs on pussy waxing.

smoking (nicotine cigars) and listening sy

Secured tickets to pixies five mins ago. Brisbane and Sydney. Thank-you.

lucky boy :(

Hey! Like yr sig!

you are

What if she was ?

pinky swear.

I'll never tell.

You did !

I LIKE KILLING PEOPLE BECAUSE IT IS SO MUCH FUN IT IS MORE FUN THAN KILLING WILD GAME IN THE FORREST BECAUSE MAN IS THE MOST DANGEROUE ANAMAL OF ALL TO KILL SOMETHING GIVES ME THE MOST THRILLING EXPERIENCE IT IS EVEN BETTER THAN GETTING YOUR ROCKS OFF WITH A GIRL THE BEST PART OF IT IS THAE WHEN I DIE I WILL BE REBORN IN PARADICE AND THEI HAVE KILLED WILL BECOME MY SLAVES I WILL NOT GIVE YOU MY NAME BECAUSE YOU WILL TRY TO SLOI DOWN OR ATOP MY COLLECTIOG OF SLAVES FOR MY AFTERLIFE EBEORIETEMETHHPITI

that is from the zodiac killer

I am the zodiac, bitch. I knew that, but it took me probably eight fucking hours to type the following.

Some people say that they dissected his mails wrong, because there's still a bunch of stray words/letters. The leftover letters are like poor kids at the end of the alphabet when all the classes are full. Oh, hey, Lil Jonny Zebroff. Go learn at a snails pace, and be stuck in the same room as your arch nemesis. [expansion of thought derailed : circuits closing]

Beware the very slow old guy coming at you while you lay around on a blanket blaring supertramp. I'm only warning you once.

there are two viable explanations.

either the cops are even dumber than i thought or there is no zodiac killer.

The killer must have morphed identities. Perhaps he is Jeff Goldblum.

am deeply hurt by your calling me a wemon [sic] hater! I am not. But I am a monster. I am the "Son of Sam." I am a little brat. When father Sam gets drunk he gets mean. He beats his family. Sometimes he ties me up to the back of the house. Other times he locks me in the garage. Sam loves to drink blood. "Go out and kill," commands father Sam. Behind our house some rest. Mostly young — raped and slaughtered — their blood drained — just bones now. Papa Sam keeps me locked in the attic too. I can't get out but I look out the attic window and watch the world go by. I feel like an outsider. I am on a different wavelength then [sic] everybody else — programmed too [sic] kill. However, to stop me you must kill me. Attention all police: Shoot me first — shoot to kill or else keep out of my way or you will die! Papa Sam is old now. He needs some blood to preserve his youth. He has had too many heart attacks. "Ugh, me hoot, it hurts, sonny boy." I miss my pretty princess most of all. She's resting in our ladies house. But I'll see her soon. I am the "Monster" — "Beelzebub" — the chubby behemouth. I love to hunt. Prowling the streets looking for fair game — tasty meat. The wemon of Queens are prettyist of all. It must be the water they drink. I live for the hunt — my life. Blood for papa. Mr. Borrelli, sir, I don't want to kill anymore. No sur, no more but I must, 'honor thy father.' I want to make love to the world. I love people. I don't belong on earth. Return me to yahoos. To the people of Queens, I love you. And I want to wish all of you a happy Easter. May God bless you in this life and in the next. And for now I say goodbye and goodnight. Police: Let me haunt you with these words: I'll be back! I'll be back! To be interpreted as — bang bang bang, bank, bang — ugh!! Yours in murder, Mr. Monster