From: TB
To: worker3116@gmail.com
Date: Apr 28, 2007 4:09 AM
Subject: I am done, and clearly “a threat to myself.”

i. I’m Tired and Bored of my “viral marketing” if you will.

ii. You’re assholes.

iii. I have nothing better to do, and nothing to “live” for.

iv. You think I’m bluffing? Good for you. I’ll PROVE to you that I’m not by setting myself on fire tonight, dickheads. I’m not retarded. You guys’re stricken with moral downsyndrome. You’ve no clue what I’m talking about cause you don’t read The Bible or the Tao Te Ching or The Lotus Sutra or the Koran, Torah, etc. Whatevs. You guys’ve no clue. Instead: you’ve got your magazines and your harlotry and your MySpace and your let’s ignore this homeless person and starve Darfur and Asia and genocide the Native Americans, Jews, Tibetans, etc. and whatevs.

Therefore, here’s a reiteration:

I’m killing myself tonight. Your bullshit world can spiral into apocalyptic mass extinction without me. See you dumb bitchass robots in the “next world,” if you will. The Whore of Babylon is setting herself on fire tonight in Times Square. She’s gonna be the best martyr ever. Cause I, Daniel, have judged her sins. They’ve reached to heaven. My father’s not stupid. She’s going to Hell just like the rest of you harlots. So watch out for May Day assholes. Cause Trinity is through with your assbackwards Satanic civilation. NEO is coming with clouds (surprise/Revelation). What did He say? “Take this all of you and eat it. This is my body; do this in remembrance of me.” He meant the breaking of bread/money and sharing w/your disciples/neighbors part. Not the gluttonous eat a cardboard wafer drink His “blood” like a vampire burn thy martyr psychiatrically hospitalize thy prophet rape thy children be the Second Coming of Hitler kill/torture everybody worship money and CRUCIFY ME? Did you honestly BELIEVE that Our Father would let you get away with that? Huh, Satan? Will the Son of Man find Faith on Earth when He returns? Apparently not. You didn’t believe T(he) B(aptist) after she reiterated the message a bazillion times in your marketplaces. So now The Bible will become absolutely literal for you retarded Satanic money-worshipping retards. TB is bored of your bullshit. The Whore will set herself on fire, because the only sin she’s not committed is murder, and she would never kill another. T(he) B(east) is going to perdition forever. If this is what it takes for you To Believe, then so be it. For my G-d is just. He is kind, compassionate, loving, forgiving and gave the Whore everything. He’s a Wandering Jew. So therefore the Whore will be in TIMES SQUARE dripping with gasoline this evening. Then you’ll see your Revelation and on Judgment Day, He will Come, for you did not listen. On May Day. “Whatevs,” says the Whore, “I was gonna die anyway.” … REVELATION, anyone? “And in her was found the blood of saints and martyrs.” …

P.S. She forgives and loves you. Also, forward this to everyone you know.

P.S.S. Your true mental illnesses:

* 1.1 Lust (Latin, luxuria)
* 1.2 Gluttony (Latin, gula)
* 1.3 Greed (Latin, avaritia)
* 1.4 Sloth (Latin, acedia)
* 1.5 Wrath (Latin, ira)
* 1.6 Envy (Latin, invidia)
* 1.7 Pride (Latin, superbia)

P.S.S.S. For those of you who don’t study or read EVER, “Nirvana” means “Extinction.” Whoa Tara Boddhisattva, etc. Whatevs? Good. I’m not bluffing. And when I do set myself on fire, you bitches’ll be like, Holy shit she wasn’t kidding at all whatsoever. So take that, and eat it, assholes. I’ve tried killing myself before, right? Remember THAT hospitalization after having mainlined $100 worth of heroin and waking up the next day? Ask Dr. Hasan. Have fun, kiddies … and see you in Hell.

From: worker3116@gmail.com
To: TB
Date: Apr 29, 2007 2:40 PM
Subject: Re: I am done, and clearly “a threat to myself.”

UNSUBSCRIBE

For the past ten years (Jesus Fucking Christ, I just broke a hip typing that), China Jet and I have been having the same argument. His position is that there used to be a cartoon about a boy who turned into a sports car whenever he got warm. My position was that there was never a cartoon about a boy who turned into a sports car whenever he got warm.

FUUUUUUUCK.

In my defense, the example China Jet always used that was so ridiculous was that the boy turned into a sports car when he was in a hot tub, which if anyone can find that clip on YouTube, Carl Kassell will record the outgoing message on your answering machine.

So, China Jet, I am sorry. You were right all along. I feel almost as bad about not believing you on this as I felt that time that The Shark and I told you to drink Palmolive and you did and then we were like “Why would you do that?” and you were like “Because you guys are my best friends, and I trust you, and I wanted to prove that,” and we were like “But you drank Palmolive,” and you were like, “Yeah, I wish my best friends weren’t such assholes.”

I was reading this article [LINK] about toygers (half cat, half tiger, three quarters “clever” nickname), which I will admit are pretty sweet. But a big part of the article is about how when toygers become available for ownership, they are going to be the most expensive, most elite status symbol pet ever.

WRONG.

I recognize that I don’t have any taste, money, or intelligence, but even I know that this is bullshit. Sure, the nouveau riche will be all about the toyger, but old money is still on REGULAR MOTHERFUCKING TIGERS. “Oh, that’s a really cute little toyger you have there in your Dooney & Burke bag. I love it. So cute. Oh, this old thing? THIS IS JUST A FUCKING TIGER ON A DIAMOND LEASH WITH A COLLAR MADE OUT OF THE GOLD-PLATED HEADS OF TOYGERS.”

When a toyger goes to a party, everyone wants to play with it. When a tiger goes to a party, everyone SHUTS THE FUCK UP.

Note to the guy I saw on the train this morning with what can only be described as a bright orange “rape whistle” strapped to his backpack: haha, you got raped and now you are scared.

Tonight at Mo’s at 9pm: Ritalin Readings! Lineup:

This show’s vague theme is “Marry/F**k/Kill” and the 4-minute time limit per reader will be enforced with supersoakers 99 cent store squirt guns.

Hosted by Lindsay Robertson and me.
Produced by Jon Friedman (The Rejection Show)

Readers:

* Jami Attenberg (Author, Instant Love, now out in paperback!)

* Kurt Braunohler (Comedian)

* Amelie Gillette (The Onion AV Club’s The Hater columnist)

* Chris Mohney (Editor, Gridskipper)

* John Mulaney (Comedian)

* Dana Vachon (Author, Mergers and Acquisitions)

April 24th at 9PM

Mo Pitkin’s House of Satisfaction 34 Avenue A (b. 2nd and 3rd St.) F or V train to Second Ave. 212-777-5660 $6

Advance tickets can be bought here.

Isn’t it weird how Keith Richards murdered all those children in the boiler room of the power plant where he worked only to have the townspeople take justice into their own hands by throwing molotov cocktails at the building, trapping him inside while he burned alive, and then those three dream demons came and offered him eternal life and the ability to kill all the teenagers of Springwood by using nightmares and knife gloves?

I mean, he was in the Rolling Stones, for heaven’s sake.

Chevy Chase sure has been in the news a lot lately. I don’t know about you, but I can‘t wait for(ever for) the release of his authorized biography, I’m Chevy Chase…And You’re Not. It’s kind of weird when a book comes out with a cover that is already haunted by the spectral sticker of the 99 cent bargain bin.

But anyway, today there was a thing on Page Six about how Chevy Chase was abused as a child, which is sad for two reasons. One, it’s not cool for people to abuse kids, at least not physically. There is so much you can do emotionally that what’s even the point of raising your hand to a child? Why all the fuss? But then the second reason it is sad is that Chevy had to suffer all that abuse and still it didn’t make him that funny.

MY REAL POINT THOUGH is this quote:

Chase’s younger half-brother, John, tells the author: “My mother, at her worst, was like an unleashed animal. It was at her hands, in her feral states, that Chevy suffered the darkest of his secret torments.”

“It was at her hands, in her feral states, that Chevy suffered the darkest of his secret torments”? It is nice to see that John Chase has perfect the craft of speaking like a second-rate community college English major writing a book report for “Basic Composition 102.” It’s also nice to get a sneak preview of what looks to be the most bathetic and stultifying piece of garbage since

Dear Monica,

I’m sorry that this has to be public, but I figured that maybe if everyone knew how you had been acting, then maybe you would get it together enough to make what we have mean something again.

First of all, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? We hang out, and it’s totally cool, and then all of a sudden you just disappear for months at a time. And then, when you decide to get back in touch you use MySpace? It’s a real e-slap in the iFace.

“How have [I] been?” Worried sick, that’s how I’ve been. I’m not trying to embarrass you by airing our dirty laundry, I just really want you to be aware how hurtful this whole thing has been to me, and how disrespectful I feel your behavior is to what we have (had?), which, I thought, was really, really special.

And what is all this about a free digital camera you didn’t believe until it actually arrived in the mail?

Also, you are a prostitute.
W.

There is an old-school Hummer in my neighborhood. What? Hey, Gulliver, get the fuck out of
Lilliput. So today, I am walking to the subway and Major Retard is parked on the sidewalk and as I’m approaching this thing that is so dumb, I notice something is hanging from the tail-hitch. Something clearly non-functional. Decorative. It is metal. What is it? What is that thing? OH, I see what it is, it is a pair of BALLS made out of STEEL. Nice. The only thing Lt. J. Ass needs now is a bumper sticker that says “How Is My Being a Piece of Shit? Call 1-800-I-SUUUCK”

Then on the train there was this guy who was yelling at everyone about how in prison you only get two slices of dry toast so why don’t you GIVE HIM YOUR SEAT?

This morning was all about feeling like I am in that scene in Batman Begins where the Scarecrow blows up all that fear cocaine on that island and I am trapped with all these people being like “if you’re going to kill me, just kill me. But do you really have to be a demon with a face made of worms and molten lead?”

I can’t decide which is cracking all the shit out of me more this morning, this picture:

Or these lyrics:

It ain’t no joke I’d like to buy the world a toke
And teach the world to sing in perfect harmony
And teach the world to snuff the fires and the liars
Hey I know it’s just a song but it’s spice for the recipe
This is a love attack I know it went out but it’s back
It’s just like any fad retracts before impact
And it’s just like fashion it’s a passion for the with it and hip
If ya got the goods they’ll come and buy it just to stay in
The clique

If only there were some way to combine the two…

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