March 10, 2010
Just got back from a speech for the Men's Club at Winfield, a gated community south of Carefree. Great guys. At 11:30, the incoming pres Steve Wall picked me up in his cherry '56 Ford convertable and we cruised down in Detroit style to the gig.
Hey, FYI: we are under attack from a series of bots (outlaw spammers) pushing drugs and faking names. We are killing them as fast as we can. I shot down six before I left last night around six. Drove home, went for a walk with the dog, ate a chicken taco from El Encanto leftover from our design meeting, went out to check on the site and there were six more drug coyotes squatting on the blog inbox. Killed 'em all dead and went to bed.
Came into the office and met Trish and Carole, their arms covered in blood. They had killed "at least fifty" according to Trish. These are zombies and won't die.
I repeat: we are surrounded and being attacked by outlaw zombie spammers and we're doing the best we can to kill them as fast as they storm over our ramparts.
"Bring packs. Be quick."
—Custer's last known written request
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