You walk hours and hours. You drink vodka. You intend to just have a couple shots but one third of the bottle steams down your throat, activating the acid glands in your stomach to churn. You do a bunch of meaningless things you forget about and your place is now thrashed. You vomit off your front porch many times before blacking out. You wake up to the you have mail chime from your computer. Your heart races with excitement. You read your e-mail:
You agree, after all think about what you could do with your site for that kinda bread, hell yes yes.
A government agent e mails your site by Mitch Roth Welks and the Libbie Fog