God Made the Earth in Seven days... allegedly

You know what I hate? More than you ,the reader, obviously. I hate chain mails. Much as I believe in good and bad luck and fate, I don't believe that an email has been bestowed with the gift of deciding which you should be allocated. Many, however, do not share this same belief apparently. Otherwise I would not be inundated with emails about little Timmy whom Microsoft has agreed to sponsor through his leg operation provided the email reaches every single one of the contacts in your address book.

I don't mean any disrespect for Little Timmy. I mean, well done to the little guy managing to persuade microsoft to sponsor his leg operation, and having the tenacity to ask them but IF, and this is a gargantuan "if", this was real, would there not be a website about his appeal or even a link to donate money to the "give Timmy back his legs" appeal?? Hell, if there was I'd donate right now, so sorry Timmy.

YOU HAVE JUST BEEN SLAPPED!! you must forward this slap to at least 25 other people in the next second to escape the curse. If you forward this to 30 people you will have good luck for the next week. If you forward this to 40 people your crush will fall in love with you. If you forward this to 50 people you will marry your crush. If you send this to all of your contacts you will never die.

I mean seriously, who can take something like that at anything more than face value? It doesn't even worth elaborating on, so we skip this one.

My favourite chain mail:

Jessica was hired by the Henderson's to babysit for them one night, so she was sitting downstairs in the living room watching TV whilst Timmy and Jimmy (I'm sorry Timmy) slept upstairs. After hours of tedious television Jessica wants to go and watch the Cable which only works in the parents' room (?!). So Jessica goes to their room and phones Mr and Mrs Henderson who are out enjoying a fabulous night at Chez Dave's. They tell her "That's fine Jessica, but don't wake the boys" so she asks "Ok, but can I move this freaky clown statue from your bed?". After that the Henderson's are quiet, then they say "Jessica, get Timmy and Jimmy, leave the house and go to the police, don't look back."
Later, the Henderson's return home, to find Jessica and Timmy and Jimmy murdered on their bed, with their faces painted like clowns. If you do not forward this to (x) people within the next (Y) minutes you will wake up at midnight to see the clown standing over you with a knife.



My deepest concerns are for the poor clown murderer. I mean, he's got to sit there tracing every email, ensuring that everyone forwards it within a specific time or else he has to somehow traipse across the globe to stand beside X amounts of beds with a knife at midnight exactly. I mean, is the clown endowed with similar powers to Santa Claus? Does he ride in a sleigh pulled by maniacal circus midgets? I guess we will never know until we find that poor clown, but I'm betting that in the not too distant future he will just give up and go back to the circus.

I mean, who would blame poor Cashew here for going out of his head one night (perhaps after a few too many pies to the face), and hiding in a house full of teens and preteens to leap out and murder each and every one of them?
Not me. Not me.




I'll tell you the kind of email I can get behind though. The "....in my pants" email. Heard of it? It's the sort of email where you open it whilst listening to music, and it tells you to put your name beside whatever song you're listening to followed by in my pants. Which can be quite funny.
e.g.
Ruairidh - Let me entertain you in my pants.

Try it, it works with almost any song. It has caused me many a mirthful moment.


As you may have noticed I have run out of steam, and hence I shall end this post with these words of wisdom:

EVERYONE HATES FORWARDS, THEY DON'T BRING YOU GOOD OR BAD LUCK, SO DON'T EVER SEND THEM!! (except if it's the "in my pants" one, that's funny)

RuArx