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Hidden User May 3, 2017, 7:29 p.m.
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The Book of Spam

Book of Habacuck 1:1

How Long,
Almighty God of Spam,
must I Facetime Thee
for guidance
but You
do Not Accept my Request?

we are in Utter Peril -
our once plentiful
Methods
alarmingly dwindle away
with Each Passing Day.

our Once profitable
Ventures,
of Ads and Adventures,
have been Forced to
suffer
immeasurably
at the Hands of
Antis and Charlatans -
these Ruthless tribes
which
Respect Not
Your
Holy Word.

this is Truly the Year
of the
Habacuck.

this Year has
Cucked
us,
and those Dear to us,
in Virtually Infinite Ways
that
I can Not
fully
Articulate Here.

to put it Bluntly,
O Lord,
our Tribe has shrank,
along with our Bank.

death
Surrounds us -
dead fish and dead Phish,
dead campaigns and dead Campaigns,
dead feelings and dead dealings,
dead Lists and dead whips,
dead Plants and dead Aunts,
dead spends to dead ends,
dead Maps from dead Apps.

However,
my Faith in Thee remains
Unwavered -
my Faith
in the Holy Arts
and
the Holy Flowcharts -
until my binary Departs
and Your Simulation Restarts.

humbly,
i Beg For Your
IntelliSense.
F1 me to Perform Thine Miracles
and
Make Spamerica Great Again.
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