2006 - the 700 million dollar man

# 2006 - the 700 million dollar man

From:

North of Jewfish Creek

Dear
Friend and Subscriber,

I work out now with a trainer.

Six days a week. Everyday but Sunday. I do road
work on my treadmill and in the park near my apartment. I
pump iron, endure stretching exercises, let my trainer
torture me with a medicine ball and take more illegal
steroids than Barry Bonds. (That's not true Dimwit.)

A few days ago, after finishing my workout, I went
to a small diner and ate three steak sandwiches. After
that, I was overcome with the desire to hurt somebody. I
mean bloody their nose, blacken their eyes and kick them
in the balls.

You ever have that happen to you? You ever became
enraged for no reason whatsoever? I decided it would be a
good idea to pound on the young musclehead a few feet away
from me in the diner. Then, it hit me. I suddenly
realized that if I went after him, the bastard would
probably fight back!

I hate that part. When they fight back. I'd truly
kick a lot of ass if I could find a steady supply of
people who wouldn't fight back.

Oh well. My mood instantly evaporated. I gave the
musclehead a friendly greeting, tipped the waitress and
left the restaurant with no broken bones or bruises.

What was that all about? I really don't know. I
haven't a clue why that sudden rage overcame me. Plus, I
don 't have a clue why I'm writing about it.

So, I'll stop. I'll go off in another tangent.

Listen, you ever wonder how many people want me to
allow them to write about their product or service in my
newsletter? I can tell you, it's a bunch. Hundreds of
people want to get a recommendation from me.