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Hello, my name is Bob and I suffer from guilt for not forwarding 50 billion ******* chain letters sent to me by people who actually believe that if you send them on, a poor six year old girl in Queensland with a breast on her forehead will be able to raise enough money to have it removed before her bogan parents sell her to a travelling freak show.

Now, do you honestly believe that Bill Gates is going to give you, and everyone to whom you send "his" email, $1000? How stupid are we?

Ooooh, looky here! If I scroll down this page and make a wish, I'll get laid by a model I just happen to run into the next day!

What a bunch of ********.

Maybe the evil chain letter leprechauns will come into my house and sodomize me in my sleep for not continuing a chain letter that  was started by St Peter in 5AD and brought to this country by midget pilgrim stowaways on the Endeavour.

Fuck 'em.

If you're going to forward something, at least send me something mildly amusing. I've seen all the "send this to 10 of your closest friends, and this poor, wretched excuse for a human being will somehow receive a nickel from some omniscient being" 
forwards
about 900 times.

I don't ******* care.

Show a little intelligence and think about what you're actually contributing to by sending out these forwards. Chances are, it's our own unpopularity.

The point being? If you get some chain letter that's threatening to leave you shagless or luckless for the rest of your life, delete it.

If it's funny, send it on.

Don't piss people off by making them feel guilty about a leper in Botswana with no teeth who has been tied to the arse of a dead elephant for
27 years and whose only salvation is the 5 cents per letter he'll receive if
you forward this email.

Now forward this to everyone you know. Otherwise, tomorrow morning
your underwear will turn carnivorous and will consume your genitals.

Have a nice day.

P.S: Send me 15 bucks and then **** off

**I actually remember the original one of these that I recieved about a year ago having something about an armless legless goatless boy in it. Now that one was great. If you guys have it, send it my way. Cheers**

Hey kids,

Well, its been a while.

It's actually been quite a hectic week in the life of Kitty.

My mother and baby brother are over at the moment and I'm about to walk out. I can't take her constant prying and his constant temper tantrums. And of course, if they're here that means my grandparents are here too and they brought with them my great grandmother. There's no where to f*cking sit in the lounge room, the floor is covered with toys, the tv is so f*cking loud I can't hear myself think and no-one listens to a f*cking thing I say. Not like it's my house or anything. F*ck!

I'm honestly considering moving to Melbourne with my friend Ash in Feb. It's looking damn tempting at the moment.

Meanwhile, I look like a lobster with leprosy. I went to the beach and I'm so damn sunburnt. But it's not even an even red. It's actually pretty funny. I'm hoping I'll go brown. That never happens for me. I've lived out here most of my life but I still can't get a tan. Damn Irish skin.

I'm so f*cking mad at the moment.

My best friend and I don't speak anymore and it's been about a month and I'm sick to death of all the stupid games he's been playing. Plus I want all my stuff back.

Here's a list:

*Bed

*Fridge

*Microwave

*Chest of drawers

*Coffee table

*Clothes

*Jewelry

and a sh*t load of stuff I've probably forgotten about.

If he wasn't so busy with his c*ck buried in his boyfriends arse then maybe he could find the time to get in the f*cking car (that was mine I might add) and get the f*ck over here.

The reason we stopped talking was because I wanted to spend time with him, just me and him. Not a lot of time, just a couple hours a week, but he didn't want to. I believe the exact quote was "I don't have time for you and B****** in my life right now."

We'd been best friends for three years. He's known B****** for 4 months. I think it's understandable that I was hell mad and wanted to break sh*t and get him killed. But the thing that I f*cking love is that B****** has time for me but my supposed best friend doesn't. Now what kind of f*ucked up situation is that?

And A*** not only says he doesn't have time for me, but that I'm emotionally blackmailimg him and trying to guilt him into things that aren't possible or practical. I know the situations he's referring to as well. Apparently what I tried to guilt him into was talking me to the hospital after my Nan had had extensive surgery to save her life. He had my car at this point too. I wanted to got o the hospital and he wanted to go to the drive ins with his boyfriend. I think going to the hospital to see my Nan for possibly the last time ever took precedence. He's just such a self centered little b*tch at the moment.

But it's not just me he's being like that too. He's alienated all off his friends. He hasn't seen any of them since he met B******. When they break up he's going to realise how selfish he's been and that he's got no-one left.

And I hope everyone remembers the way he's treated them.

Right now I would like to add a string of obscenities, just to make me feel better.

He's such a dick **** ***** ****** ******* **** ***** **** *** so ****. ************.

Wow. I can say dick. Dick dick dick dick dick dick! Ha!

This f*cking  heat makes me sick. This f*cking Australian heat that makes you want to take your skin off  it's so damn hot. And believe me, if there was a way I could I would.  

I've got writers block. I think its natures way of telling me I was never a writer. Why can't I make this go anywhere? It goes round and round in circles and never finds a conclusion. The characters run rampant across the pages doing what they want and I can't control them.
I can write perfectly well in my head. When I'm out having coffee paragraphs write themselves in my mind but when I sit down to actually get some work done, nothing. I get a mildly coherant sentence. That's all. I just want to make this work. It's driving me nuts.

Hello again.

Damn it's hot.

I've spent most of my day looking at apartments that I can't afford. Nothing like a really pretty studio apartment that'll set you back $500 a week to bring you back to reality. Maybe I'm asking too much when I want my own bathroom and laundry for under $200. Its a studio for Christ's sake. Technically I'm sleeping in the freakin kitchen.

Damn Sydney house prices.

And now I have to go and get ready to see my ex. Now won't that be fun? This is the post break up bullsh*t coffee appointment where you try to pretend everything's fine and that you still get along famously and try to act like you could still be friends.

*sigh* Why do we bother trying?

 Eww. There was a worm in my rice. Ew ew ew ew ew!!! Oh that is so far beyond wrong.

Well that just topped off my day.

Now to the shower to primp and preen and try to make my hair look like something two alley cats haven't been fighting over.

Wish me luck.

Wow hey... they put little stars to stop me swearing.
I'll get you damn censory thing. I'll put my own damn stars in.

Hey.. try n guess what I'm saying

You ******* ******** ************!!

Just a quick hello.

One day I'll write something worthwhile. Actually, to be fair, I probably wont. I'll probably just complain a lot.

Hey... At least I'm honest.