jamelah.net

The other day, I got the following spam:

if he’s hard to shop for - you won’t go wrong with viiiiaaaaagggrrrraaa

I promptly deleted it, but then I thought, “What if a really REALLY stupid person got that message?” And then I giggled about it and moved on with my day. But the idea stuck with me, and I kept thinking about it. Because really, what if a really REALLY stupid person got that message? And what if that really REALLY stupid person thought it was a good idea? Imagine the scenarios:

(Okay, so Janette in Accounting writes like a serial killer.)

Oh, the awkward conversations that would ensue. And you’d think I’d have enough of my own awkwardness, that I wouldn’t have to imagine other people’s and then laugh about it, but if you think that, then you obviously don’t know me very well.

Also, apropos of nothing, I just can’t get past this. Seriously.

If such a thing is possible, happy Monday.

Are you ready for this?

Grow a whopping fuckstick, Bernice

I really think this should be a euphemism for something. What exactly, I don’t know. But definitely something.

(Hi, I’m 12.)

Honestly.

So, I was just checking the ol’ e-mail, and noticed a message with the subject line that now makes up the title of this post. My first reaction was to laugh (right out loud, no less), because I am both twisted and not a fan of cats, and then I thought of the famous urban legend about the exploding pet, and then I thought “Microwaving cats for fun AND profit?!? Where do I sign up?” So naturally, I clicked on the message to find out more about what could’ve potentially become my second job. It was then that I discovered that the e-mail was just about generic Viagra. Sigh. I have no idea what boners have to do with microwaving cats, though I tried venturing a guess and my brain told me to stop it. Seriously, don’t try thinking about it. You’ll have an aneurysm.

Now, I don’t typically read Viagra spam, because, well, really, but this one seems pretty quality. Let’s examine it, shall we? Okay, let’s!

Section 1: The Interview

1. Would you like to have an unbelievable sex during all the night?
An unbelievable sex? An unbelievable sex? What does that even mean? Does it have anything to do with Pat?

2. Wanna be the first in her list?
I guess. Well, wait. Who’s she?

3. Are you dreaming about her friends beating your time?
I honestly don’t quite know what this means. I mean, I kind of do, but I don’t want to talk about it. What I do want to talk about is the fact that it says “beating” in Viagra spam. Heee! I’m 12.

4. Wanna her making all your dreams come true in the bed?
Nevermind in the shower or on the dining room table, I suppose. But honestly? There are so many problems with this that I don’t quite know where to start. I’m overwhelmed. Wanna her making all your dreams come true (excuse me, true) in the bed? I dunno. I mean, is this the one where I’m lost in the library and there’s a unicorn who tells me I have to stop the monster from killing all the bunnies? Because that one kind of freaked me out.

5. Would you like to hear from the babes ‘he was the best man in my life’?
Personally, no. Because that would mean that the babes would be confused about the fact that I am not a guy. But if I were a guy, I’m pretty sure that I would think it was weird to have the babes refer to me in the third person while they were telling me I was the best man in their respective lives. I guess. Maybe if I were a guy, I would think that was totally hot.

Section 2: The Age-Old Debate

Keep in mind - your hypersexuality doesn’t depend n the size of your penis, it depends on ability to keep its hard-on up to several hours! And that’s the way to deliver the best orgasm to her!

Um, okay. So once again, size vs. stamina comes into play.  I’m not going to reopen the debate, because it’s already been effectively argued at the other end of those links I so helpfully provided, but I am going to have to beg to differ with the spammer here, because really?  An hours-long erection is the way to deliver the best orgasm to her?  What?  Does it work for Fed-Ex?  Is she supposed to sign for it and be careful with the bubble wrap?

Section 3: Product Placement

Generic Viagra - the new generation pills!  All pills are certificated and anyone can take them, nevertheless is he 18 or 80 years old!

Certificated?  CERTIFICATED?  Who wrote this?  George W. Bush?

Part 4: Closing the Deal
We directly collaborate with the vendors and this does let us reduce the price up to 70%!

Nothing better than a cheap boner that lasts for hours, I suppose.

Attention!  We deliver them worldwide, 100% anonymous delivery!

Well, that’s a relief.  Not only can you get this generic Viagra delivered anywhere, even to the darkest corner of the globe, nobody has to know what you ordered!  That way, your neighbors will just think you ordered another blow-up doll.

In closing, I would just like to say that I got this spam not once, but twice!  That’s right.  Multiples.  I’d like to think it was a sign that told me I had to write about this.  But then, how could I not?

Ask me about microwaving cats for fun and profit!

I haven’t done this for awhile, so I’m probably a little rusty with the spam-directed snark, but I’ve been saving some good ones, and I think it’s time. For the uninitiated, spamalysis involves my comments on no less than five really good subject lines. Like so:

Humanism O. Frantic - Do IT with woman.
Humanism O. Frantic, I think I am in love with your parents. Seriously. What a fantastic name. Send them my regards. But that’s not what you wrote to me about. No, you wrote to me about doing IT with a woman. Here’s the thing Hume (if I may, in fact, call you Hume), I don’t really do Information Technology, but if I did, I don’t think I’d discriminate. And, to be honest, I don’t really appreciate your commanding tone. I mean, I have problems with authority as it is, and I don’t even know you, yet you’re telling me who to do IT with. And I don’t think that’s very nice. You catch more flies with honey, you know. You should work on that.

Las Vegas - Don’t gamble on that special day…hold your wedding in Las Vegas.
Oh, not you too, Vegas. Look, how much did my grandma pay you to write to me about my wedding? Because seriously, she just needs to chill. My wedding and I have no plans to meet up anytime soon, because we’re both busy with other things. See, I’m busy with my life, and my wedding is busy being a purely hypothetical event looming on the far, far horizon. But I’ll tell you what, Vegas. If my wedding and I ever do decide to get together, we’ll think of you. You’ve got Elvis, and we don’t take that lightly.

EndoKnow - Are Cramps Upending Your Day?
Well, I wouldn’t necessarily say that they’re upending my day, but I do actually have cramps today, and so far, they’re making my day a little… uncomfortable and filled with angst. Thanks for asking.

Rochelle - Open only if you wish to read a personal prediction about yourself
And what if I don’t wish to read a personal prediction about myself? What happens then? Did you just e-mail me for nothing (as so many people do)? I think so, because listen up, Rochelle. I don’t need your personal prediction about me; I have plenty of my own. Want to read one? Of course you do. It goes like this: I predict that I am going to be running late this morning because I’m going to be running late this morning because I am engaging in this pointlessness right here. Silly me, I know. It’s just that I’m in love with pointlessness, because it gets me all hot. Well, okay, not all hot, exactly. In fact, not at all, but it doesn’t matter, because pointlessness and I have a bond. A very deep one. We understand each other. And you don’t just walk out on things like that. They’re important.

Marylou Webster - I am no longer impotent in bed 555 kP
I’m really happy for you, Marylou. But I have to ask — are you impotent when you are not in bed 555 kP? You can tell me. It’ll be our little secret. Promise.

NLeonegolf@aol.com - many complain that 74115114302773462626
Damn right they do. And I am among them. Yes, I complain that 74115114302773462626 all the time because really, I think that 74115114302773462625 is so much better and doesn’t get the attention that it deserves.

Boy oh boy, has the jamelah.net mailbag been overflowing lately with all sorts of fascinating epistles from oddly-named characters who think I’m stupid enough to buy things via direct email marketing. I tell you, it’s impossible to keep up, really, but I do what I can. Which means, of course, that I’m just going pick out my favorites and snark at them, because I like snarking, yes I do:

1. Cruz White i cna’t bleive i got durnk last ngiht
I cna’t bleive yuo’er stlil durnk right nwo.

2. Burton Harper — Don’t fit in your pants anymore?
Burton Harper, pay attention. I already wrote about this. And it’s not that I don’t fit in them so much as I and another person could wear them simultaneously, although they were just fine the day I bought them, but whatever, I’m trying not to be bitter. Thanks so much for bringing it up.

3. MartinaPilgerJTafterdrain — don’t like answering your emails anymore?
Well, the truth is, I never did like answering my emails. Anyone who’s ever emailed me knows this. Actually, that’s not true. I’d love to answer my emails, if I could ever remember to do it in any sort of timely way, instead of continually thinking “I need to reply to that” and then letting it sit for six months until I realize that really, yeah, whoops, nevermind.

4. Delong — behave!
No!

5. VNUS — Get Closure for your legs.
On second thought, I’m not even going to go there.

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.

It’s like this: I love spam. Not really, but sort of. As much as I love anything else, I guess. Anyway, I like to talk sass to the spammers, but in a way that doesn’t require me to reply to them. Mmmhmmm. So here are my latest favorites. Enjoy, or don’t. The choice is yours.

Miguel Holder Big back yard barbecues your new pool
I didn’t even know I had a pool. A big back yard with lots of trees, yes, but a pool, no. Miguel says it’s new, so maybe I haven’t noticed it yet, I don’t know. But the thing that I’m a little bit concerned about is the fact that the big back yard barbecues it. I’m not sure exactly what a barbecued pool is, but I guess it’s pretty fun and loaded with hickory-smoked flavor, so it can’t be that bad.

dorchester chow Chantiqua S. Misses you!
It’s funny, because last night I was thinking about my life and what I’m missing, and I couldn’t help but feel that there is a definite lack of Chantiqua S. So imagine my delighted surprise to find out that Chantiqua S. misses me. I’m not sure you can, fully, but let me just say that it’s somewhere on par with the delighted surprise I felt when I discovered that I had a barbecued pool. Ahem. I digress. My point is that it’s good to know that Chantiqua S. was probably sitting around thinking “You know, my life would be better if there wasn’t such an absolute dearth of Jamelah E.” So it’s good that it’s all reciprocal.

dee Hannula Try this link, I think it works
When I find that it’s time to get some quality lamenting done, one of the things that continually ends up on the top of my list of laments is the fact that nothing is certain. And this spammer’s inability to offer me anything more concrete than “I think it works” is a sign that our world is descending into utter darkness and confusion. Seriously, if I can’t count on spam, then what can I count on, huh?

Steven Stanford i want a guy
Okay. It’s like this, Steve — I’m not really the person you should be talking to about this, because in general, me + guys = disaster. So you might want to bring this up with someone who might be able to tell you something at least marginally helpful, but in any case, I wish you the best of luck.

Credit Connectors You are probably already approved
Well, that’s nice. Probably.

Jesus Hold on! Cheap Cialis
I saved this one for last, because let’s face it — it doesn’t get any better than Cialis spam from Jesus. Of course, it does render me mostly speechless. Not entirely, however, so I just have to say that Jesus, such a nice guy, always offering hope. Back in the old days, it was to lepers, and now I guess it’s to those with erectile dysfunction. Of course, this doesn’t really apply to me, but it doesn’t matter, because this message shines like a beacon of hope, saying wait! Cheap help is on the way!

a few notes on a few things:

1. lesson learned: don’t mess with blog template when there is no time to figure out what goes where, otherwise, i will unwittingly delete stuff that shouldn’t be deleted and then be unable to figure out where to put those things back. so, to all the people i’ve ever linked before: uh, sorry. i’ll fix this, just not today, probably.

2. ancillary samba. no, i don’t know what it means.

3. just when i had lost interest in the massive amounts of spam i receive, i got this one: jamelah, how would you like to be called REVEREND? and verily i say unto you, spammer, i would greatly enjoy it, provided that i was only called reverend in a caps lock sort of way.

4. yeah, that’s all for now.

dear reader,

i know that i have a busy week ahead of me, and as my record so far has shown, i don’t get around to the blog updating very much when i’m running around like a maniac trying to get everything done. as such, i’ve decided that today i am going to get a lot of blogging out of the way so that i won’t feel bad for neglecting my corner of the web while i’m busy running around like a maniac trying to get everything done.

consider this a marathon blog post to keep you entertained over the next few days.

sincerely,
jamelah

part one: the problem with me
i can’t even begin to count the number of times i have begun a statement with, “the problem with me is…” if i were to guess, however, i would pick a number somewhere in the bajillions. the reasons for this are manifold, but i suppose if i were to give you a simple explanation, it would be something like, “it’s not as catchy to say ‘one of the myriad problems with me is as follows, but bear in mind that there are more, my friend, yes, many more…’”

part two: capitalism feels good
yesterday i spent a ton of cash on myself and i have nothing to show for it, really, except for a skirt and a sweater. i mean, i bought some other stuff, like socks and barrettes and pants and t-shirts and dvds and a culture club greatest hits cd (a necessity, to be sure), but the purpose of my shopping venture was to purchase some work clothes and so yeah, i’ve got a skirt and a sweater. and i can’t even wear the skirt yet because it’s for spring and i live in michigan, and spring doesn’t happen around here until, oh, late may.

it really is a fabulous skirt. it’s pink and swishy and it’s part of my resolution to buy clothes that are not black, gray or red.

anyway, i suppose my point here is that i’d forgotten how fun the occasional bout of mindless consumerism can be after so many months of being completely and pathetically broke.

part three: stuff i get in the mail
i have never gotten a brown paper package tied up with string. i never realized this bothered me until today, and now i can’t help but wonder how come i’ve never rated a brown paper package tied up with string. what? i’m not good enough for brown paper and string? bah. whatever.

but one thing i like about my life is that i get a lot of stuff in the mail. just last week, i got a cd from my friend jason from australia. it was meant to be a horrible cd, revenge for the one i sent him for his birthday (i can’t get over how good (and by “good” i mean “godawful”) the cd i sent him for his birthday was), and he did a rather impressive job. i mean, it makes me cackle with maniacal glee (tom jones. come on.), and it does actually have some good songs on it, but any goodness is balanced out by the horror of “let’s get high on jesus.”

and then there’s “get yer biscuits in the oven and yer buns in the bed.”

oh my.

but i get letters and cards and postcards and jewelry and cds and books and cookies and humping-kangaroo beer holders in the mail on a pretty regular basis, so it’s like mini-christmas around here a lot of the time. sure beats getting nothing but credit card offers and student loan bills.

part four: may you live in interesting times (fortunalysis)
along with such age-old questions as “what are you looking at?” and “is that ham?” i have been asked if i am aware of the fact that i am not normal. i’ve found that my normalcy (or lack thereof) is typically called into question when i sing southern gospel in crowded areas or begin doing what i like to call “dancing” or earnestly explain to my dining companions what the fortunes in their respective cookies really mean. but what can i say? i’m a dancin’, singin’, fortune-cookie-understandin’ machine. machine i tell you. and if that makes me wrong, then i don’t wanna be right.

preach it, me. preach it.
anyway, here are a couple of fortunes that became a part of my life recently:

A good time to finish up old tasks.
while it’s easy to get distracted by the fact that this fortune is an incomplete sentence, however i urged myself not to fall into that trap. that’s what they want me to do. why? i don’t know. it’s not like they explain their motives to me. anyway, this is open-ended for a reason, and the reason is simply this: a good time to finish up old tasks is never coming. they’re old already, so what’s the point? that’s right. there is none. if there were, then i’d have finished those tasks already. probably. if i wasn’t busy playing rocket mania, or something. 

Your charming smile is attracting everyone around you.
oh dear. while i am eternally grateful to my mother for the thousands of dollars she spent on orthodontic work to fix my ridiculous teeth, i knew back when i was 12, crying, and eating applesauce that having my pearly whites painfully corralled into straightness would have its drawbacks. and now i know. i mean, from my life experience, i know it’s hard being a veritable well of sex appeal (ahem), but seriously, i can’t deal with attracting everyone around me. honestly, i only really like guys when they live 500+ miles away from me. so, to everyone around me: sorry, but it’s not gonna happen.

part five: spamnation!
since starting my job, i’ve been getting massive amounts of work-related e-mail. this is fine, as it allows me to check my mail every five minutes as i’ve become accustomed to doing over the past year, but for some reason, the increase in actual e-mail has also caused a dramatic rise in the amount of spam i receive. this, of course, overjoys me to no end, since i love spam more than anybody ever should. let me share with you my recent favorites:

Taco J. Coincidence — No ebay monney maker, Jamelah CzWQFAnu
okay, i don’t really need to say much about this. taco j. coincidence. come on. 

Leftmost K. Wise — I Want To Date You, Jamelah ryLtjTtD
yeah, leftmost. my only concern is that you are writing to the wrong jamelah. i mean, my last name isn’t ryLtjTtD, no matter how much i might wish it were. and, on the off chance that you haven’t gotten me mixed up with the elusive jamelah ryLtjTtD, and you’re actually interested in me, then i’m afraid that it’s because of my charming smile, and well, like the fortune says, that would be because you’re around me. i’ve already explained how i feel about people around me. i’m sorry, leftmost k. wise, but this just isn’t going to work. it’s not you. it’s me.

Josiah Irving — Are you ready to feel awesome?
oh boy, josiah irving, am i ever. where do i sign up? wait, what’s that? you’re only trying to sell me cialis? figures.

Coleman Corbett — get right with god headmaster gaines too nadir dutton englewood backhand crock duty haunt mash dirty newsreel edt armco euthanasia negligible congressman contiguous charley blew germanic aleph picturesque whoosh alternate nick cardiod …blond
whoa, that’s all like poetry and stuff. like bad cut-up nonsense poetry, but still. “euthanasia negligible congressman.” yeah. so i had to open this one, because really, any message that has a subject line like that deserves my attention. it says, “Accept Jesus, Let him save your soul,you have the choice Do not be decieved. Contact a local church or prayerline today. Once a person is in hell it is just too late. Save your soul for eternity. Pray everyday.

boast woodcock guanidine dunce jangle cyanate don assay defray material
pantry”

and i have to say that i could follow it all the way up until that last bit. i mean, i appreciate coleman corbett’s concern over the state of my soul, but i do have to question the use of spam as an evangelism tool. and then really what does “boast woodcock guanidine dunce jangle cyanate don assay defray material pantry” have to do with jesus? i totally missed that part of the bible, and that makes me sad, because i would totally dig bad cut-up poetry portions of the bible. yeah, totally. because that’s all beat and stuff.

amen.

part six: random notes
1. ah, ben harper. and that’s really all i have to say about that.
2. i bought this new gardenia lily lotion and i keep smelling myself. the reason for this is, of course, that damn yo, i smell good. i think i need to break myself of this habit before tomorrow, however, because i’m not too sure how well it would work for me to be sitting at my desk sniffing my arm all day long.
3. i know they’re a necessity with the low-rise jeans and all, but low-rise underwear just aren’t right.
4. every year, i go to mcdonald’s and get a shamrock milkshake before st. patrick’s day. every year, i think “hm. shamrock milkshakes aren’t really so tasty.” call it a tradition.
5. tomorrow is monday. how does that keep happening?