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2000.02.03. - Francesca da Rimini, Target

Subject: Target
From: Francesca da Rimini
Date: Thu, 03 Feb 2000 19:35:22 +1000


Let bring your target to you.

Your target audience - right along with the rest of the world - is rushing onto the Internet. And, you know they're there. But, the trick is finding them. They're racing through thousands of Web sites already in existence and touring the hundreds of new sites being added every day


That's why advertising on the Net has been so hit-and-miss. And, why, the Internet Advertising Network was created... brings your target to you.

As Targeted As You Want To Be.

Okay I'm just about to kill this guy I ordered. And then all of a sudden I wonder what the fuck I'm doing with him. Kinda ruins the moment. brings everyone together, instantly.

Building one to one relationships millions at a time.

He's no dog, granted, and he's suitably young and all that, he obviously doesn't need to shave very often, but then there's this other stuff that the company didn't mention.

The heart of is its Internet Profile Database. This database was compiled from a wide array of sources and has a built-in ability to learn and grow. It calls for some pretty sophisticated data-crunching on our part, but the results are incredible.

Like his hair - long black ringlets tumbling down from a bad crew cut, and that shirt, blue flannelette with lemon checks. I mean, he's some kind of wog *bogan* for god's sake. No silver smooth river boy this. Looking too closely at him brings on a wave of nausea. I think about stripping him. Boys like this are better butt naked.

Excellent opportunity for growth and excitement.

So I'm considering how to do him. With that big bitch knife? Or the small mean bedside blade? The double reinforced extra tensile wire? A bullet to his sorry brain engraved with a personalised dedication from me to him - have a nice death, asshole? My resources are limited but effective. First strike capabilities. Delivery guaranteed or your life back.

Will "immediately" be soon enough?

He kinda stumps me though cos I'm just not used to this kinda generic lowboy. Talk about a blast from the best-forgotten past. Rough trade usually has *some* sense of street style, knows when the black (black!) jeans are just too too tight and the boots too fuckin' pointy and sad. This cunt won't win any fashion awards that's for sure. I refuse to contemplate his tastes in music.

The Network represents a broad range of users including; investors, business professionals, college students, women, consumers, gamers and sports enthusiasts.

And bogans obviously. I thought this was a *selective* service? The rates would suggest that it is.

The great demographics of Web users - According to a recent study, the 17.6 million people using the Web in the U.S. and Canada tend to be young, upscale, educated professionals with a household income over $80,000.

Yeah, right. Like this guy earns 80K. In his dreams maybe.

One-stop Internet shopping with fully-automated delivery of advertising spots with guaranteed "eyeball" exposure, tracking and reporting confirmed.


The asshole's moaning now, he's starting to come to. If only he knew what his voice does to me. At least some part of my system is still operating on automatic. I'm tracking his gradual awareness of his predicament. He notices that his feet and wrists are bound. Can see the knife reflected in my eyes. I'm bored with looking at him. My cunt's wet enough, but my imagination is hardly engaged. Need to sharpen my focus.

You know when enough is enough.

Still can't decide how to kill him. Strange, I'm never usually this indecisive. My tight template of desire has been corrupted by that haircut. I can't be bothered fixing it up myself. That's not what I paid for. I feel totally ripped off.

Maybe I should just return him.

Hate to waste fresh meat but . . . .

You know when enough is enough