Hey all you bitches,
If you're reading this now, then you know I didn't write yesterday as I had originally planned-some fucking shit with my computer, and the phone line, I don't know, what the fuck.
I managed to download a rendering of me and my 'associate' Georgie, the rotten egg that he is. I do mean that literally. Georgie IS a rotten egg.
What you fuckos don't realize is, that yes, we have technology here on Easter Island, and yes, having equipment that makes our job all the easier, is for the most part, a necessity. You think we ain't got a candler? For those who don't know what the fuck a candler is, it's this light up thing that 'reads' an egg, to see if it's good or not. You know, does it have cracks, or dents-or is their some kind of 'development' inside the egg that would prevent us from using it.
Georgie was caught in our scan for bad eggs. He was one of them. He cried and shit at first, when we told him we couldn't use him. But, in the long run, who wants to handed over to some slobbering drool bag of a kid. Chances are, he ain't gonna want some egg after a basket full of candy and toys and shit anyway. No, we don't give the kid that shit, their parents do, all we're responsible for is the fucking eggs.
So, anywho, we convinced Georgie that he was better off being with us. We have a shitload of rotten eggs working for us, they do our 'dirty work' sort-o-say. No, not slave labor, but when you're in a business like mine, you need 'associates' to aid you in times of need. Georgie is so convinced that children are evil now, he'll do anything we ask, including 'visits' to some naughty kids.
Some of our eggs make it past the candler, to the coloring stage, but, like you fuckos know, they get misplaced, or forgotten about, and go bad. These are the eggs we use as associates. Society has deemed them 'unworthy' or 'smelly', how the fuck would that make you feel?
My eggs are some of my best bitches, I mean, who da fuck else do they got? Who's gonna want a rotten egg following them around? You? I didn't fucking think so.
Sometimes, I feel I love them more then my family. I think it, but do I really mean it? Fuck I don't know, don't get me started on my wife and kids, they're a pawful let me tell ya.
Anyway fuckwads, enough for now, I gotta figure out what's goin' down with this phone line and shit.
And the eggs kept a rollin'
Edvard