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"I only read junkmailz."
- Kim Jong Un, lap dancer
"I renew my subscription to junkmailz as often as possible."
- Abraham Lincoln, amateur cartographer
"I would burn each word at the stake if I could."
- Cotton Mather, inventor of fire
About Junkmailz

Junkmailz manufactures fictions. We pay child laborers in breathmints and candy wrappers to generate massive volumes of farcical tales and fancy plots. If you know how to read and have a sense of humor, then you'll love junkmailz.

Junkmailz grew up in a flop house near the Bowery, where it learned English from the local gentry and survived on mattress cheeses. After going AWOL from NASA during a four-year residency as Second Principle Poet / Lifeguard on the International Space Station, Junkmailz ran the Patriotic Rust Bureau for Kim Jung-Un's uncle, Dave. Upon Dave's execution by drowning, Junkmailz spent 5 years in solitary confinement. It was then that he dictated the first eight chapters of his magnum opus "I Hear Them Fucking" to a dead beetle, whose hollowed thorax resembled John Milton's spectral aura.

Now upgraded to house arrest, Junkmailz works as a mail sorter in the basement, cataloging urgent credit and debt relief offers that appear unsolicited in the mailbox.

Junkmailz is married to The Diary of Anne Franke, has an unknown army of children, and is probably f-cking your wife and/or husband.

Junkmailz lives nearby. Wherever you are.

"I served my nickel!"


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