Bob,
When I was in third grade I got into an argument with my mom about something. I don't remember what it was about. I walked over to the park across the street and sat moping in the snow. I looked up into the sky and asked god why I was being treated so unfairly. I mustered from the very depths of my 3rd grade soul a prayer to god. When I was finished I looked around. There was no sign, feeling, smell, or guidance coming his way. It was at that moment that I questioned his existence. The very thought was too complicated for my 3rd grade mind to comprehend. The next 9 years I spent sort of on the edge.

I would believe in god when I was afraid. I wouldn't when I was thinking. About two weeks ago I stumbled upon your website. After reading about 12 pages of hate mail I felt I needed to commend you on your site.

Although you use humor throughout your site I was able to acknowledge the very serious and very real aspects to what you were trying to say.

You're the first person that has ever made sense to me when it comes to religion. You have provided me with a definite choice about my beliefs and logical, factual reasons behind it. I would like to thank you in assisting me finding my beliefs at such a young age and I am sure that many other people would like to second that.
Thank-you
Laura Redmond

Sperm Boy Manifesto


January 26th, 2004, 4:18pm

I know that you're avoiding me, Sperm Boy. I'm not blind to these things.

When you came in here on the 26th at 4:18pm (just three days after seeing you after a whole year!) you ducked out and ran into Kmart. You never came out of those front doors. Did you fall asleep in there? Were you doing your hair all that time? Were you shopping?!? An hour and a half later and you still hadn't emerged from there. I'm no fool. I know you're avoiding me.


"S" is for Sperm

That day I drew a picture of you while I waited. In the picture you have no arms. Imagine what that'd be like, Sperm Boy.

NO ARMS.

And in the picture I drew you were wearing a sleeveless turtleneck. No, not "sleeveless" like holes at the shoulders. "Sleeveless" like stitched up shoulders. Completely sewn shut. No place for arms to go through! Isn't that exciting? No need for arms in my turtleneck sweater. None whatsoever. Made without sleeves. Period. Get the picture?

I also portrayed you with a long wiggly Sperm-like tail instead of legs. Wouldn't that be neat? All wiggling around, squirming about on a cement floor... in the basement.
Secret basement.

But you can't hide from me forever. You have to come up for air.

I AM AIR.

A couple times now when I've seen you, you haven't been wearing your Sperm Boy hat. Why is that? You're Sperm Boy in your hat. You wear the hat. That's what you do. That's all you need to do! Wear the hat. I suggest to you that you wear the hat.
Secret basement.

I was with my friend Colyn when I saw you two days ago, and you made me look foolish in front of her. I had told her about you, and then when you showed up I pointed you out to her, then you quickly went away... and you weren't wearing your hat either! I'm not sure that I like it when you don't hang around in your outfit that you promised to me. Promises are meant to be kept.

When I look out of this window I am expecting you to be keeping your promises to me in your hat and turtleneck sweater.


"Thank you for showing me perfection"

Also when I draw you, I make your sweater meld seamlessly into your tail. I don't yet know how I could do that, but that's what I would try to do. Then everything would be complete. Without arms in the new sleeveless turtleneck that went down to your wiggly tail. Only then would you be perfect, like you're destined to be.

But when someone becomes perfect, like you will be, you'll find that the outside world does not accommodate your needs any longer. You'll have new needs. That's why I've prepared a place for you that you will like. It is warm and dark and quiet. You'll be safe there, able to live out the remainder of your Sperm Boy life away from the imperfect world outdoors. A place where you will be safe. Safe to wiggle about in your new sleeveless turtleneck and your new tail! Aren't you excited? I know I am.

 

•Introducing Sperm Boy!
Pg 109

•Where is Sperm Boy today?
Pg 110

•Last Sperm Boy sighting:
Pg 112

•Farewell to Sperm Boy:
Pg 117

•Sperm Boy Returns!:
Pg 146

“YOU ARE A DIRTY LITTLE JEW BOY”

Subject: FUCKING DICK HEAD!!!

I CAN TELL YOU ARE A DIRTY LITTLE JEW BOY WITH NO LIFE!!!! I DARE YOU TO REPLY!!!!

Paulie
Pxaulie42624@aol.com


What a cowardly dare. You need to take your little concave pee pee and grow the fuck up before you get it caught in your diaper tape.

I can't wait to see how many exclamation points you use when you're REALLY angry. You silly child.

Bob


“IF YOU EVER SET FOOT IN SOUTH PHILADELPHIA, YOU LET ME KNOW AHEAD OF TIME SO I CAN BEAT THE SHIT OUT YOU.”

Re: BOB LOVES TO FINGER HIS ASS WHILE WATCHING TV!

LISITEN BOB YOU FUCKING DORK, HOW ABOUT IF YOU EVER SET FOOT IN SOUTH PHILADELPHIA, YOU LET ME KNOW AHEAD OF TIME SO I CAN BEAT THE SHIT OUT YOU. WE LOVE FATGOT LITTLE JEW BOYS FROM NEW YORK WITH NO LIVES... THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR SITE, I JUST HATE FAGOT LITTLE JEW BOYS WHO STICK THIER FINGER IN THIER ASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "CONVAE PEE PEE" !!

WHAT IS THAT? WHERE ARE YOU FROM? AND DON'T SAY NEW YORK!! YOUR FUCKING GAY! KILL YOUR SELF!

Paulie
Pxaulie42624@aol.com


Gosh, what a scary email. You've got the balls of a neutered toy poodle to type all that in an email and send it 500 miles away. I know your type all too well. You're one of those little-dicks who prank calls people from under the covers of your parent's bed, then hangs up and pees his pants because that's the bravest thing he's ever done.

I've found that for guys like you, a couple flicks behind the ear sends you crying like a baby in a bucket of onions. So if you ever get the courage to come to New York, we can give my little ear-flicks a test run and see how long you last. I'm guessing 2 flicks. 3 tops!

I don't blame you for wanting me to kill myself. It's the only way you could beat me.

Bob Not-Really-Jewish-But-If-It-Makes-You-Cry-I'll-Pretend Smith

PS. My favorite part will be watching you run away with your shirt pulled over your head.

“emial me baq at spicprincess604@hotmail.com”

Subject: wtf@!!??

wats ur problem!!! pplz r religous n pplz dunt agree wut u@!!!!!!!!!!! so if i were u id take dat off!!!!!!!!!!1111 emial me baq at spicprincess604@hotmail.com !!!!!!!!!!

Carol Ortiz
spicprincess604@hotmail.com


Oh no! The religious people don't agree with me! I'd better stop what I'm doing and try harder to please religious people! Like Cristal here who can't spell worth a shit and makes up words like "pplz" and "dat" because juvenile chat slang says more about them than an actual compete sentence could!

Yes. I really need to start gearing my work to please imbeciles like yourself. That's how I'll progress as an artist. I hope your cunt rots.

Bob


“dont reply baq!!!”

fuk u!! dont reply baq!!!

Carol Ortiz
spicprincess604@hotmail.com


Don't reply back? Why?


“go away!!!!!!!”

noyb!!!!!!!! go away!!!!!!!

Carol Ortiz
spicprincess604@hotmail.com


Hey, you're the one who said "email me baq at spicprincess604@hotmail.com!!!!!!!!!!" Go ahead, scroll down to the first letter you sent and see. It's right there in your letter! And that's what I'm doin'. I'm emailing you "baq".

You need to make up your mind, stupid.
Are you really a spic?
Bob


“pleaze go way!!”

yes i am and uummm lets see wats ur age n pleaze go way!!

Carol Ortiz
spicprincess604@hotmail.com


Please stop emailing me. This is the fourth email I've received from you this week! I don't care for your racial remarks and I am not about to give you my age. If you have to ask then I'm way too young for you. You're a pervert!

Stop telling me to email you "baq"! If you want to fuck children you're going to have to go somewhere else.

Good luck! You're gonna need it... IN JAIL!
Bob


“ i have a bf so go away!”

wtf? i have a bf so go away!

Carol Ortiz
spicprincess604@hotmail.com


Puhhhleeeze! If YOU had a boyfriend you wouldn't be stalking me every day! That is, unless he isn't putting it to you good enough. That explains it. I'm sorry . Now I understand.

So, what's the matter? Is he hung like a marble?
Bob

Feb 2nd, 2004
“you have 6 days to close your awful site...
5 days 23 h 59 m 58 secs..”

Dear ass,

you must be an assclown , a fabulous funny one ...pray that Lord that you offends in your shit siteto save your lost soul ...It's better that i dont continue my thread ...because it's useless to spread great words with who like youdoesnt own any bravery or decence...you are a rejectedand i shall do all in my power to destroy your small ass ...ShitFace ...you have 6 days to close your awful site ... 5 days 23 h 59 m 58 secs..

thedialupboy@yahoo.com


Okay. I will shut down.
Please leave me alone. The site's as good as gone. Just give me a few days.

Thanks.
Bob


THE NEXT DAY:
You know, now after thinking about it I'm hoping you can help me out with a few more days. Like 9? If I could get 9 days then I could wrap up what I've got going on here, tie up the loose ends and make a clean break with the site.

I usually don't buckle under this quickly but that countdown really sent a chill down my spine. So yeah, if I could get 9 days that'd be great, starting... NOW! 8 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes and 59 seconds... 58 seconds... 57 seconds... and so forth.

Bob


EIGHT DAYS LATER:
Wow, so my nine days are up tomorrow (by the way, thank you for the extension). Tomorrow site is closed by you. The day I am destroyed. I've had a good run, but it seems (according to you) that my days are now up.

I've finished up everything here on this end (sucking up the loss, submitting to popular opinion, stifling my creativity, and all that stuff), now I'm ready for you to pull the plug.

I wonder how you're gonna do it? Hell, what do I care? I'm sure you've had this all scripted out since before you emailed me. I mean, only an idiot would make such a threat without anything to back it up, right? And what kind of dimwit would think I'm not gonna call the bluff and just wait to see what happens? I suppose it'd be the same kind of dimwit who'd pray to the heavens for magical solutions or convenient love. Yeah, that's the kind of person all right. That's it on the button.

So, I guess you'll be hearing from me tomorrow when my jig is up.

Bob

 

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