spam fiction chapters 3 – 8

yes, i’ll get over my fascination with this crap soon but in the mean time here are a few more excerpts pulled from spam emails…

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In fact. angelica compliment That and the droning passage of days with their simple convalescent pattern.

Only had to kill one roommate to do it, too, Paul thought, and donkeyed his shrill, frightened laugh Scheherazade to myself he thought again. Paul wondered, not quite idly, how far Grider Wildlife Preserve was from here. I was good at it. One, however, should be enough. He wrote until dawn was coming up in the east and then fell into bed and slept for four hours. Old enough and bright enough, maybe, to spill some kerosene around a cheap liquor bottle, then light a candle, and put the candle in the middle of the kerosene. cyclic

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but even more, he felt. bungle bugaboo It was a bent and twisted chunk of bobby-pin.

not where she usually sat, however; she sat on its foot and for a moment he saw only her solid, impervious back as she bent over, as if to check on something. Be quick. “Because I don’t want it grinning at me all night. “”Shhhhh! OOO. He awoke time after time in the middle of the night using the big toe of his right foot to scratch thin air four inches below the place where, on that side, his body now ended. So far all speculation centered on three illegal substances: moonshine, marijuana, and cocaine. Beth

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“He dry-heaved again, making a desperate burping sound. armoire beriberi “Someone could have come along and eased the boy’s terror, but nobody did.

She absently tore the rag that was choking him out of his mouth and threw it on the floor. She’ll just think they’re pistachio nuts and gobble them right down. Annie Wilkes was gone. The fourth was their father, Adrian Krenmitz, 41. No fucking way. An awful memory bloomed there in the dark: his mother had taken him to the Boston Zoo, and he had been looking at a great big bird. The gotta which had kept them both alive and it had, for without it she surely would have murdered both him and herself long since was also what had caused the loss of his thumb. Caution

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The lives were shadows. charlie consult Throw them in your trap.

Paul thumbed the thickness of the remaining pages in Annie’s book and thought Ralph Dugan should have checked his horoscope whoops, make that horrorscope the day he proposed to Annie. said Annie surely would be tried on one of the other counts. It’s called Dom P?rignon. I think of your troubles as my troubles, Annie. to begin the book for the first time in years, it was Can You? It was snowing outside, the first real snow of the year, and they said we’d have a foot by the next morning. Nothing else stupid old Annie Wilkes forgot because she doesn’t know how a Mister Smart Guy goes about writing a book. boycott

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lions on either side of him. aversion cryostat It splattered the wall.

Annie pulled the axe free and tossed it aside absently at the jetting stump for a moment and picked up the box of matches. That’s what I’ll say. Well it stinks. No cop. in the woods up there. Over the years Paul had grown more and more resigned to the fact that he could not read stories as he had when he was a kid; by becoming a writer of them himself, he had condemned himself to a life of dissection. He kept thinking unconsciousness would come and relieve him, but unconsciousness declined; instead Hour Thirty came, and Hour Forty; now King of Pain and Pretty Thirsty merged into one single horse (I Got the Hungries had been left in the dust long since) and he began to feel like nothing more than a slice of living tissue on a microscope slide or a worm on a hook something, anyway, twisting endlessly and waiting only to die. counsel

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and now back to our normal programming…

more spam fiction

yet more fiction extracted directly from spam emails:

“When she straightened up she was holding the axe from the shed in one hand and a propane torch in the other. Yes, I know how you get, he thought. and locked it. But that was not so. To its left there was another door. There was a queer interval of silence, and Paul was frightened by what he saw on her face, because what he saw was nothing; the black nothing of a crevasse folded into an alpine meadow, a blackness where no flowers grew and into which the drop might be long. That, and some intellectual curiosity about where she had come from, and why now. collagen”

i kinda want to find out what happens next…

spam poetry

extracted from real email spam…

“No, Annie, he thought, suddenly filled with fury. deducible circumlocution It looked like an octopus”.

brilliant.