Friday, December 29, 2006

O! Spam, How I Love Thee

Some days, I love my spam:

The young man stopped to look at it and a hand, sudden and
and unlocked my handcuffs.
She lowered the small, coin-sized communicator as I stalked towards
to the journalists. Nor had the map even hinted at the many levels
administer it. However there was an accident in transit. Sweat
and the Paradisians I guess, basically, I know absolutely nothing.
assume that he did not.
hope. The door opened and there was a hiss, rumble and clank behind me
There, Steengo said, tapping the paper. Weasel wording. That
with this because I fell deeply asleep.
zonked me? I counted on my fingers. Just about eighteen gone, which

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