Spamming

twerking

I was spamming. Spamming spamming spamming. I was spamming like a bastard. It’s more than just a hobby or a pastime for me it’s a way of life. It’s my overriding passion – kind of like an addiction you might say. Every time I open my mouth I’m not talking I’m spamming. Everything I text or email someone I’m spamming. I spam at home and I spam at work. I spam away on Facebook whenever I get a free minute. I’m at it the whole time – I never take a rest, I never take a break. Even when I think something I’m not really thinking I’m spamming. I have spam thoughts not real thoughts. I have spammified thoughts – thoughts that have been put there by someone else. Viral thoughts. Viral concepts. Viral beliefs. Viral opinions. I’ve gone viral! Lol! If that sounds strange to you it isn’t really. My brain’s been taken over you see. Turned into a production line. I’m a zombie unit dedicated to producing spam. I never have my own thoughts any more, it’s all just spam. My brain’s a nest of spam. A bucket full of squirming nauseating filthy spam. I’m spamming away like a right bastard! I’m spamming like there’s no tomorrow. Spam spam spam. It’s all I ever do. It’s my life-work – spamming away like a right little spammy bastard and spawning other spamming zombie units whenever I get the chance. It’s catching on, I can tell you!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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