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From: Dr. Tatas del TT's 12/9/99 - 1:53:34 PM - 216.198.7.130
My credentials are obvious, we all can see the "Dr." typed in the From: box, I think everyone except a real "jerk" would automatically know I'm not just some freelance boildoctor from Quack University with a degree in Free Clinic Science, I been tested for HTML by www.bloodclot.com, a Jamaican speed lab posing as a blood testing print shop in the heart of downtown Jasper, Tx. You've never seen so many fax machines at once, flooding the Net with hilarious e-fax copies of some killer Xeroxed office humor. In one grueling 5 hour stretch, my staff sent out close the 240,000 faxes of the Happy Fisherman, have you seen it? It has a smiling guy dressed like a fisherman, fishing from an inner tube, and under the surface of the water you see he has no pants on, and there's no fish on his hook, but there IS a fish on his dick, but he's not in any big hurry to reel it in. Underneath the picture it is handwritten in block capitals:
THE HAPPY FISHERMAN
he ha he man, this mailing list technology is such an ideal medium for transmitting really funny stuff, like The Happy Fisherman... oh, ha ha ha What REALLY cracks me up is when I think of how we looked thru the digital yellow pages, and we saturation-faxed every single Phillips 66 station we could find in the US, Canada, and Mexico. Within 5 to 7 minutes, we started receiving early warning bottleneck faxes about an overwhelming load of incoming Happy Fisherman Xerox's sent right at rush hour, quickly bringing AOL to its fucking knees! With their servers temporarily choked out of service, we went chat room by chat room, and any person we met, we gave 'em a free copy of the cartoon, and a brochure that explains in great detail how fucking funny the joke is, and it offers suggestions to help kids who wanna create their own office humor fax websites.
So, in walks this woman, we'll call her large, and she proceeds to download massive quantities of huge titties out of a virtual digi-bra that pumps out a fresh pair of tortooga's every few seconds. And, faster than you can say, Google-Bolton-Weinershnitzel-Guggenheim-Schwartz, a little java applet runs so the nipples look like tuning knobs. Most of my clients are middle aged spinsters who have inflamed labial Bolton CD syndrome, which is caused by listening to Bolton CD's and rubbing their clits till they bleed.
I teach them how to masturbate to the much healthier Dr. Popeye X mp3's, it not only heals the clitoris, it actually builds a little protective football helmet around that lil' sucker! This perfectly accommodates those sensitive little flip flappers to the rough and tumble slime-slap of the PPX mp3's. Wallow in the synthetic underbrush of TOMORROW NEVER KNOWS, or start your own Anti HEE HAW Fan Club while listening to DONKEY LADY. If you feel like it, smirk knowingly when the chorus of PUNKYDOODLE SUCKA comes around for the umpteenth time. Its almost unlimited how much time you can spend listening to the same mp3's over and over. Recharge your dwindling stash of mp3's you can actually tolerate hearing, check out the PPX titles at http://www.popeye-x.com/music/studio2.htm.
