a letter from me to a co-worker clarifying my poor handwriting. i couldn't have planned it better.
my handwriting stems from hieroglyphs. i'm a reincarnated servant of the pharohs. aren't i supposed to move up in the next life? maybe if i give better service my next life will be better. or maybe peter at the gate is just a disgruntled toll both willy. (what was once a four letter word), who knows. my life is directed by a god that invented hail. go figure my head hurts,
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god is watching us. god is watching us. from the nsa.