"There was a point to this story, but it has temporarily escaped the chronicler's mind."

I just got a spam mail beginning with that sentence. Isn't it lovely? Even spam mails have poetic substance now. So you can do something for your intellect AND your penis at the same time. Now I just wish I had a penis. Ok, that's not true.

Well. Well. Well. So much to do, so little time.

I wonder where the point to my story is.

I just bought a bag of happiness. A new game for my Nintendo DS. Fun. Fun. Fun. To repeat one word a couple of times doesn't necessarily make it sound more credible, does it? Anyway.
Go outside! The sun is shining. The trees are full of white and pink and other pastel coloured blossoms. Do something for your serotonin household.

Now excuse me, I gotta work and listen to some more Andrew Bird.





I'm already looking forward to the arrival of my next spam mail.