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Dear dude that sneaks into my room at night and leaves recorded stories

July 22, 2011

I know you’re reading this. You’re tracking my movements, always watching. And you know what? I feel sorry for you. We both know the sooner you show your self the sooner you end up in a Nepalese Death Grip with a side of Brazilian Bone Knots. I have so many friends in the military you have no idea. It takes more than a Hi8 video of a guy with a gambling problem getting skinned alive to intimidate me. And the drawings of those guys robbing the bank meant nothing to me. You know what it communicated to me when all their limbs were sawed off with those blurry insect leg things and their torsos were squirming in that massive puddle of blood? It told me you’re incapable of being a man of action like myself, so you imitate my collecting prowess to spook me. Jokes on you though. Imitation is the highest form of flattery, and everyone knows snuff films have no re-sell market value.

And to the rest of you, the e-mails are getting annoying but a few of you ask good questions:

-No Jon from Oregon this is not me in the mask.
-Linda in Montana I am familiar with the HP Lovecraft short story and no I have no idea what it has to do with the mission at hand.
-“Anonymous” from “no where” why did you send me this?:

I doubt these have titanium flakes in them.

In other news, turns out the painting Dale traded me is a fake.

I want my vintage ghost pictures back.

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