Just keep praying for me!

Tonight, well I'm going to go whore myself out to all the lonely people in the city who can't afford a box of KD and ask myself the timeless question "Who am I?"

And they'll answer because they are jealous of my superior intellect and breathtaking good looks. They lie awake at night torn between their bitterness and envy, their hatred and passion. They can't eat, they can't sleep. Poor bastards.

The above is an excerpt from a draft of an email I wrote in 2001.  I laughed when I thought someone else wrote it,  then was pleased that it was me.