Dear Lobot,
I know you know me. We met at the show. When I walked in I felt like I was being poisoned, but then I felt I could get behind it. The melodic trash, it moves me, makes me calm. I'm calm now. I know you know me.
I would withhold from all vulgarity for reasons of alienating your group from a broader audience. This is my number. It's XXX-XXXX. Call me and I'll read you my poetry. It's like you. But you know this. Who was that you were talking to at the show?
I've got to go now. See you soon.
Me thinketh lord fortney hath beene identity thefted, fore the same remark madeth here twas also made yonder (at my site). Tis a shame and a disservice that shant go unnoticed. Oh yeah and now the proverbial shoutout, lobot keep on keepin on
helloooo, sorry i missed your reunion show. me & chynah saw a poster downtown and we were like "hey! let's go! oh...it's tomorrow..." and we could't go. but yeah, what's up?
I don't get it. What happened to Baroque music? This just doesn't cut it when I'm romancing a the Victorian bitches. Sorry, Lobot, but Fortnoy will not fornicate to you.
