Dear All
My thanks to all those who have sent me emails this past year....
I must send my special thanks to whoever sent me the one about rat poo in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet towel for every envelope that needs sealing.
Also, I now have to scrub the top of every can or bottle I open for the same reason.
I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time.
I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the£15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program.
Or from the senior bank clerk in Nigeria who wants to split £7 million with me for pretending to be a long lost relative of a customer who died intestate.
However, I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me, and St. Theresa's novena has granted my every wish.
I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants, even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day.
I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward e-mails to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes.
I no longer drink Coca-Cola because it can remove toilet stains.
I no longer buy petrol without taking a friend along to watch my car in case a serial killer crawls into my back seat when I'm filling up.
I no longer go to shopping centres because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me.
I no longer answer the phone because someone will connect me to a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls on it to Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore and Uzbekistan.
I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because a big brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant death when it bites my bum.
I can't even pick up the £5.00 I found dropped in the car park because it was probably placed there by a sex offender waiting underneath my car to grab me.
Now, if you don't send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhoea will land on your head at 5:00pm this afternoon and the fleas from 12 camels will infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump.
I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbour's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician.
Oh, and by the way ... a South American scientist, after a lengthy study, has discovered that people with a low IQ, who have infrequent sexual activity, always read their e-mails with their hand on the mouse.
Don't bother taking it off now!
