Brevity is the soul of wit

So there's this guy I know, we'll call him "Kelvin," who might possibly be the MOST annoying emailer I've ever met in my life. I went to school with Kelvin, and he's a big talker. The kid has a gift of the gab. And unfortunately, this "gift" of his appears in every single one of his emails. He uses six times more words than a normal person does to say something. And I have no patience for that, especially because it's in an email.

Let me give you a little background before I share some of Kelvin's brilliance with you. We finished school at the end of 2007, and a handful of us from our quarter keep in touch and let everyone know what's going on through an email chain that's been going around. So a few weeks ago, the email chain starter girl sent out an email asking what everyone's up to. One of my friends responded first, and then Kelvin chimed in. With the longest email update ever. As I told 10-kp, I was so tempted to poke my eyes out while reading it, except that, if I had, I wouldn't have been able to appreciate the stunning pictures of him that he attached at the end. And yes, I'm serious - he attached two iPhoto glamour shot pictures to the end of his email.

Here's an excerpt from Kelvin's email (edited slightly for anonymity):
I don't know about anyone else, but I'm trying not to lose my mind. One of my best buds has been living on my floor for the past week (he's looking for apts. and applying to our school), and he and I have been spending more than a healthy dose of time on our computers cooped-up inside my apartment. When my buddy and I spend that much time locked-up, my place starts to feel like a looney bin with padded walls. Put a couple of cameras in here and stream it over the internet and some TV exec would probably give us a reality show — or send us straight to a hospital. One or the other. They do say laughter is good for the soul and well being, but crying from laughter has been a regular occurrence. Not sure how healthy that is.

Other than advertising stuff, eating bananas and maintaining regular bowel movements, I've been searching for part-time restaurant/bar work in my neighborhood. I'm really hoping I can land something soon so I can have money to stay afloat during this looney tune transition. If I had a crazy Boy Band budget of money right now, this could potentially be the best vacation period of my life, but without money it's just a depressingly sick joke.

Those two paragraphs were just a part of a seven paragraph piece of torture. The kind of torture that might get prisoners to talk. Just spit it out already, like this:
A friend's been staying with me until he finds his own place, and we've both been really busy. I'm also looking for a part-time job to make a little money while I finish up my portfolio.

Done - two paragraphs condensed into two sentences. No mention of looney bins, bowel movements or Boy Bands. Simple. Tolerable. Painless.

I wish I had more examples of his work, but I don't; I had to delete them out of my inbox because they were taking up too much memory.

-JT