Fri - March 19, 2004

Billy Evans


No idea where this came from, but I'm reposting it here. Enjoy.

A touching true story: Please help little Billy Evans.

My name is Billy Evans. I am a very sick little boy. 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 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 freakin'
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 "Smiley" Evans
Posted: 03:29 AM      

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