After viewing a movie that was paid for by the folks that brought you Apple Cinnamon Cheerios, I flipped on my phone and to my surprise and joy, there was a "new message!" notification accompanied by the phone's own version of the Harlem shake. I excitedly fumbled around the keypad to read the message and it read like this (feel free to read aloud as long as you are not around your mother or cops):

+14166785913
05/29/06 7:44 pm
Text: Hey u want the
handgun still

Yes, yes I most definitely do still want the handgun.

I asked for grenades too, but he said those came at $399.97 a piece and I said what a ridiculous thing to do, tacking 97 cents at the end making it such an awkward pricing scheme so I turned him down on the spot. He tried to throw in some sort of rocket launcher but it was USED. Second hand weapons of mass destruction just don't cut it for all the illegal activites I conduct from the comfort of my own cubicle. Seriously now.

*Alright, so everything after the text-message itself was as fabricated as my laundry.