Evil Email

I hate chain mail. After much ranting and shouting, I thought that I'd finally made all of my friends realise the depths this. 'It's worse than junk mail,' I told them, 'because it's your friends filling your inbox with crap. Friends that should know better.' Most of my friends got the point, all but two of them. The first continues to forward the crap because he finds my reaction to them hilarious . . .

(when he sent me the one about Bill Gates giving you some money for everytime you forward the email on, I replied with a long rant detailing why every sentence in the mail was basically bullshit. It was a university lunchtime when I didn't have very much to do, and I'm since regretting doing it as it sparked off a load of 'let's see how he reacts to this' emails)

. . . the second now only forwards the guilt trip ones. You know the type. They're the ones that go along the lines of 'here are fifty reasons friends are great, next to some pictures of bears holding balloons that will take about an hour to download on your machine, and if you don't send them to everybody in your address book then you are an evil bastard who will never be loved'.

And I fall for it everytime. I open the emails because I naively think, ah, this might be worth reading, surely my friends know me well enough not to send me crap. I should know better. One of the emails was entitled 'Nice things' for fuck sake, as if that wasn't a big enough clue.

Okay, rant over. On with the writing journal.

Don't throw in the towel 'cos there's a place right down the block
Where you can drink your misery away

Wednesday: started a review, sunbathed (hey, it's summer, and I'm getting fed up sitting at my computer).

Thursday: finished one review, started another. Once I get this one done I'll have hit my month's tally.

Friday: nothing.

Later.