The Legoland Convention

I received an interesting e-mail today. Due to nature of the e-mail, I was concerned about the implications of opening this e-mail, as there was a distinct possibility that it contained life altering information. That is not the sort of endeavor one undertakes with lightness of spirit and a spring in his step. You need a certain amount of moroseness before you have your life altered for all time by an auspicious e-mail sent by a shady figure.
Now, in regards to the e-mail itself, the life changing nature of it had nothing to do with the e-mail subject, which read, "Important Notice." People receive important notices all the time and most have never had there lives irrevocably turned over. Except for that one kid Bastian, who opened an e-mail marked "Important Notice," then spent the rest of his life going on and on about a never ending story, which eventually led to a long stay in a psych ward. Anyways, as I have said, it was not the subject that concerned me, it was the sender of the e-mail. There are any number of people I love to receive e-mails from, and if it had been a major celebrity that had sent it, I probably would have been thrilled (unless it was sent by Clooney, nobody likes that guy). Alas, it was not an e-mail from some friend whom I enjoy corresponding with, nor was it a major or even minor celebrity. No, the sender of this e-mail was much closer to me than any of those people. So close, in fact, that I felt like I had known the sender my whole life, and I knew that an e-mail from this person was going to be life altering. Why, you ask? Well, it was because the e-mail was sent by one Joshua B. Otto. Now, I feel like I would remember sending an e-mail to myself, so I was fairly certain I had not sent it earlier in the day, so the logical conclusion was that I had sent this e-mail to myself from the future, using some sort of electronic mail time traveling device (EMTT for short, obviously). What was so important that I had risked changing the future time line in order to warn my past self? What kind of apocalyptic nightmare awaits our future, that I would be willing to risk all of existence in order to give a heads up to the past? Do those Teddy Ruxpin dolls finally achieve sentience and enslave humanity? Does 'Nsync reunite, casting waves of terror like a modern day Godzilla? There was only one way to find out. With the weight of the world upon my shoulders, I opened the e-mail that contained my destiny. My new mission in life? To buy cheap Viagra and Cialis through sketchy Internet companies. I kind of feel like future me dropped the ball on this one.