Dec 15 2004
it’s meat in a can, among other things
It’s been awhile since I wrote about all the spam I’ve been receiving, which is a damn shame, because I’ve been getting an awful lot of it. I realize that I’m a dork for what I’m about to say, but I save some of the ones I get with really fascinating subject lines and/or sender names. Yeah. Anyway, just a few minutes ago, I was scrolling through them and I picked out the following for my mocking pleasure:
Mack Askew — her chronic pain hurt
Oh, Mackster of Redundancy, tell me, did it hurt chronically?
Forrest Vaughn — To be or not to be… I think its a trick question.
I understand that you’re just trying to impress me with your allusion to Hamlet, but honestly, it isn’t really a trick question so much as it’s being overdramatic. In any case, you’re missing an apostrophe, Forrest Vaughn, so all that’s left to say is, “No pie for you.”
Cheryl Darden — teen nipples can destroy your life
I have no idea why I’m including this one, because honestly, I don’t have anything to say about this. I mean, I just don’t even want to know. Except, of course, in the midst of my not wanting to know, I do have to wonder if — no, no. I really just don’t even want to know.
Hawaiian Shirt — Too soon for a vacation? Put on a Hawaiian shirt and dream big.
First of all, I’m somewhat amazed that I’ve been spammed by a shirt. I have lots of shirts, but I don’t think they can type. Maybe it’s because they lack hibiscus print, I don’t know. What I do know is that if I did own a shirt with hibiscus print and I were to, say, lose my mind and wear it, I don’t really think I’d be dreaming big of a vacation. No, I’d be dreaming big of having fashion sense. But maybe that’s just me.
Marissa Barrow — Josh is late
Oh dear. Is he pregnant?
Good Santa — Marry Christmas
Okay, I know I totally can’t top this, but Good Santa got me to thinking. I mean sure, I could marry Christmas. It might be nice for awhile, what with all the cheer and the shopping, but then I think I’d wake up one morning several months later, unable to stand one more minute of “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” and wondering why I didn’t pay more attention to St. Patrick’s Day when I had the chance.
