Hey kids.

Just to clear things up from last time. When I said "Hey spiny anteaters," I was playing with the idea that spiny anteaters are echidnas. Which sounds kinda like kids. Which is how I usually greet a whole load of people in a mass e-mail. Hmm. Vegetarian Spiny Anteaters would have been better...

Anyway, I have decided to come out of retirement (ten days without typing shite was just too much) and continue with my weekly e-mail stint. There are better reasons.

However. There shall be a new shiny feeling to these beautiful messages from beyond, 'cos the last few of the old run were getting kinda too deep and evil (if you actually bothered to read the white text [if you didn't go back and find them and press Ctrl+A. Go on. You know you want to.]). Honest. I'll even limit the number of exclamation marks and everything.

So Rees goes in for the sending of humorous junk he rips out of books to amuse us all. Drinkwater specialises in the online-diary thang, detailing his every move and what he's eaten etc. In ye olde days I tried to go for the deep and meaningful, kinda (imaginatively spelled) warped e-mail which made you think, This guy has got way too much time on his hands.

I'm gonna leave old Durem town, I'm gonna leave old Durem town.

Hmm. I don't think that's how you spell Durem, but since I'm just typing what I hear upon the creatures of the night, it really matters very little.

Welcome to some of you who have never received my lovely scripts before. Alex is a friend of Ian's (just in case you didn't know [not you, you know]). Patricia ... wait a minute.

I've gotta leave old Durem town, I've gotta leave old Durem town, ....
he was leaving, he was leaving..
in 1944

Hmm. It's those pesky creatures. They keep playing the music and I keep trying to type it down to remember it. If anyone knows how to actually spell Durem please eat it.

Anyway, Patricia is a stranger to these lands (of my email) who shall soon be leaving. Vicky is someone Gareth knows. Neil's some guy who's writing a film. Hoom. There are more. Many so. Thing is, is, is, is I was sending out the old carp to some people but they complained that the butterflies weren't fresh enough. So I've added more of you to the list of complainees. Now renamed The Unusual Suspects (I being so original it hurts).

Yes.

If you don't watch Jam, you wouldn't appreciate that. Watch it and thou shall.

White text? I've given up on it. Some of you figured it out but others didn't. And when all the important things you have to say are hidden from view it does tend towards the pointless. Endless. Reading The Wake at the moment. Sweet.

As well, to let you parishioners know, I have finally got around to registering www.megasad.co.uk for my website. Those of you who never went there / never heard of it can now go there if you so desire. Dozy. Lingering Pain. Paint. Plants.

Hoom.

Little more to say / much too much to say. Either way. Pretentious prat.

Later,
Caleb

PS - For those of you that breathe anew yet do not wish to read this news. Let me know and you shall be made usual.

PPS - Upon reading that which I have written I realise how shite it is. Bare with it and it will improve. Probably.

PPPS - Those of you in the CC box. I can't be arsed to add you to the list unless you want this junk on a regular basis. Let me know if you do, else you shall have to live without my teachings. What a hardship.