Please Help - Please Forward
My mother is typing this for me, because I can't. She is crying. The
reason she is so sad is because I'm so sick. I was born without a body. It
doesn't hurt, except when I try to breathe.
The doctors gave me an artificial body. It is a burlap bag filled with
leaves. The doctors said that was the best they could do on account of
us having no money or insurance.
I would like to have a body transplant, but we need more money. Mommy
doesn't work because she said nobody hires crying people. I said, "
Don't cry, Mommy and " and she hugged my burlap bag. Mommy always gives me
hugs, Even though she's allergic to burlap and it makes her sneeze and chafes
her real bad.
I hope you will help me. You can help me if you forward this email to
everyone you know. Forward it to people you don't know, too. Dr.
Johansen said that for every person you forward this email to, Bill Gates Will
team up with AOL and send a nickel to NASA. With that funding, NASA will
collect prayers from school children all over America and have the astronauts
take them up into space so that the angels can hear them better.
Then they will come back to earth and go to the Pope, and he will take
up a collection in church and send all the money to the doctors. The doctors
could help me get better then. Maybe one day I will be able to play
baseball. Right now I can only be third base.
Every time you forward this letter, the astronauts can take more prayers
to the angels and my dream will be closer to coming true. Please help me.
Mommy is so sad and I want a body. I don't want my leaves to rot before I turn
10.
If you don't forward this email, that's okay. Mommy says you're a mean
and heartless bastard who doesn't care about a poor little boy with only a
head. She says that if you don't stew in the raw pit of your own guilt-ridden
stomach, she hopes you die a long slow, horrible death and then burn
forever in hell.
What kind of cruel person are you that you can't take five freaking'
minutes to forward this to all your friends so that they can feel guilt and
shame about ignoring a poor, bodiless nine-year-old boy? Please help me.
I try to be happy, but it's hard. I wish I had a kitty. I wish I could
hold a kitty. I wish I could hold a kitty that wouldn't chew on me and try to
bury its turds in the leaves of my burlap body. I wish that very much.
Thank You,
Billy " Smiles " Evans
reason she is so sad is because I'm so sick. I was born without a body. It
doesn't hurt, except when I try to breathe.
The doctors gave me an artificial body. It is a burlap bag filled with
leaves. The doctors said that was the best they could do on account of
us having no money or insurance.
I would like to have a body transplant, but we need more money. Mommy
doesn't work because she said nobody hires crying people. I said, "
Don't cry, Mommy and " and she hugged my burlap bag. Mommy always gives me
hugs, Even though she's allergic to burlap and it makes her sneeze and chafes
her real bad.
I hope you will help me. You can help me if you forward this email to
everyone you know. Forward it to people you don't know, too. Dr.
Johansen said that for every person you forward this email to, Bill Gates Will
team up with AOL and send a nickel to NASA. With that funding, NASA will
collect prayers from school children all over America and have the astronauts
take them up into space so that the angels can hear them better.
Then they will come back to earth and go to the Pope, and he will take
up a collection in church and send all the money to the doctors. The doctors
could help me get better then. Maybe one day I will be able to play
baseball. Right now I can only be third base.
Every time you forward this letter, the astronauts can take more prayers
to the angels and my dream will be closer to coming true. Please help me.
Mommy is so sad and I want a body. I don't want my leaves to rot before I turn
10.
If you don't forward this email, that's okay. Mommy says you're a mean
and heartless bastard who doesn't care about a poor little boy with only a
head. She says that if you don't stew in the raw pit of your own guilt-ridden
stomach, she hopes you die a long slow, horrible death and then burn
forever in hell.
What kind of cruel person are you that you can't take five freaking'
minutes to forward this to all your friends so that they can feel guilt and
shame about ignoring a poor, bodiless nine-year-old boy? Please help me.
I try to be happy, but it's hard. I wish I had a kitty. I wish I could
hold a kitty. I wish I could hold a kitty that wouldn't chew on me and try to
bury its turds in the leaves of my burlap body. I wish that very much.
Thank You,
Billy " Smiles " Evans