The Email Collection: Volume 5

“Hold on, I’m just reading our monthly email usage.”

Wow, it’s been almost a year since we’ve ridiculed ESP email addresses. I dare say this is long overdue. You know the old saying: Give an ESP an email account and they won’t know how to use it. Teach an ESP how to create an email account and they’ll make it something really fucking stupid. What in the fuck is the point of this? Why would anyone in their right mind have the word “poo” in an email address? On second thought, why is “poo” in there twice? Sometimes I can’t even begin to rationalize the stupidity I encounter. Well I think congratulations are in order. No, what am I thinking, this must be the email of a framing business, right? A nail manufacturing plant? Either way, I’m sorry Mr. Well Hung, but you didn’t get the job. Something about that email address really didn’t say “team player” or “problem solver.”  What the fuck does that even mean? Everyone was wondering who Mike Wagner’s mom was. They especially wanted to know when an email came in. So Mike’s mom created an email account accordingly. Let us be clear that her name heeds no importance whatsoever. We just need to know that she’s Mike Wagner’s mom.  No way I’m answering an email from the Grim Reaper, even if that asshole can’t figure out how to turn on the TV.

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The Email Collection: Volume 4

Winston has his own email address, just drop him a line via the Ask Winston page! Talking in the third person is so cool.

Time for another edition of stupid fucking email addresses. I’m amazed at the ridiculous addresses I encounter everyday. I mean really, who allowed these people to sign up with this shit? Gmail needs a stupidity filter on the sign-up page. Let’s cut to the chase: you have too many fucking kids. For any ESP, I always say one kid is too many, because you shouldn’t procreate. How about we don’t flood the earth with more stupid fucking people, okay? Let’s set the cap at the American Dream rate of 2.5 kids. That means two kids and one midget. Oh shit, I hate when I’m not politically correct. I mean two kids and one leprechaun. No, you’re not pretty, really in any color. Pink, or as tough guys call it, salmon, is not flattering if you’re fugly. Nice try fugly, but you can’t hide behind your email address of lies. I have to admit that I love combo words like “fugly.” Only an inefficient loser would say “fucking ugly” when they could just say “fugly.” Fua! (Fuck + Yeah). Oh shit, that was you?! I always wondered who “The Birdieman” was. Wait a minute, no I didn’t. That email is fucking stupid and doesn’t make any goddamn sense. I’m not sure if you’re aware that a cat baby has a name. It’s called a kitten. Yep, k-i-t-t-e-n. Speaking of that, cats are kind of assholes. You can’t pet them or teach them tricks. All they do is run away, scratch shit, crap in the house, and eat Meow Mix. Furry little bastards.

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