Today's mail included a free porn periodical addressed to an old roommate of mine. Evidentially, pages 1-25 are supposed to generate in you an increasing amount of horniess, until you get to pages 26-30 and dial 1-900-SUPA-TITS with one hand. (And leave off the last S. That's the S for SEARCH THE FREAKIN INTERNET.)
But how did I know there was a nudie mag in the wrapped package? Because it wasn't completely wrapped. Someone had ripped the top open, and neither of my roommates were home.
There you go. Now you know why the mail arrives late some days.
Do you know what would be fun to to? Sending a fake package with a title like "From your friends at XXXPress!" Then when the mail man sticks his hand in the package, he triggers a device that fires at his palm a blob of glue, a bunch of hair, and a note: "Gotcha! - God."
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