Hey, PLA, it's been a while,
Anyway, lately me and my friends have been having a lot of fun with Goog411. We've been calling up businesses, cactusing them, giving them compliments on the blowjobs I got while being serviced, so on and so forth. Well, we were a little adventurous one day, and decided to call a shooting range. I decided to stray away from my usual target city, Portland, Oregon, and instead look in Sacramento, California. Well, I skipped giving an intersection or ZIP code, and I only got one result: The Gun Room. Well, we connected over Skype, to improve our chances of not being traced. When we got through to a person after about 15 seconds, Mike, our favorite employee, picked up. We used the classic first call response when calling a shooting range: "Can we fire rocket launchers or RPG's at your range?" The guy actually believed us, until we asked for a cactus gun, whereby he hung up. So, the past few days, us five have been taking turns calling the Gun Room, asking silly questions about cactuses, penises, and listening to them talk about our pubic hair. They don't seem to realize that if your calling through Goog411, in Skype, that there is no way they can find you, unless they recognize your voice, which I'm sure they don't, because I've never been to Sacramento. Me and my friends now have practically personal relationships with the four employees who work there. There's Mike, our favorite. He was the first to pick up, and he's the coolest. Fun fact: Mike was the first to try and call the cops on us. Then, there's Jim. He's a real asshole. He lies about being a retired sheriff, who's 65. yeah, right. Then, there's Zach, who just hangs up on us. Yawn. Then, there's the one girl who works there, Candace, or Kathy, or something like that. She also just hangs up on us. So, yeah, that's it. I will now share with you a transcript of one of my favorite calls.
Jim: Hi, this is the Gun Room, what do you need?
Me: Hi, can I pay for the range with sexual services?
Jim: Alright, just gimme some time until your pubes grow out.
Me: What the fuck, child molester? I might have to report you to the cops.
Jim: OK, lemme tell you something I told you before, and I'm gonna tell you again...
Me: Why?
Jim: ... I'm a retired sheriff, age 65, and I've seen cases like this. I'm gonna track you down, and give your address to the police.
Me: Hey, idiot, I live halfway across the country, good luck with that.
Jim: Wait, what?
Me: (Friend makes loud noise) OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!! OH JESUS, HELP US JIM!!! HOLY CHRIST!!! HELP M--
At that point I hung up. So, that's pretty much it. Just wanted to tell you all about our escapades. PLA out, baby.