“SPAM has a face… and you must make a friend of SPAM. SPAM and direct-marketing are your friends. If they are not, then they are enemies to be feared.” – pussygirl2547
SPAM. We’ve all had this digital pox on humanity arrive in our mailbox like so many snail-mail restaurant menus, singles invites and penny-savers. Some delete it and just move on, while others fly into a rage and pop a blood vessel over being violated without their consent. The latter was my initial reaction, until I eventually settled into an apathetic flatline, merely rounding them all up and moving them to the trash bin.
I have always wondered what the purpose of spam is. Years ago, it was mostly a barrage of porn emails trying to get you to subscribe, with recurring credit payments of course, to their latest crap website. Today, I can’t even tell you what some of these balloon heads are attempting to peddle. I think, well, someone must be clicking on them or why would they keep being delivered in droves? Yet, in the morass of dick-enlarging, pill-pushing and ponzi-scam type weirdness, who in hell would want any of the “products” being touted? I imagined a passive simpleton, opening each potentially system destroying mail-bomb, being fleeced, time and again, by the promise of untold riches, a faithful mail-order girlfriend, a bigger cock or a better world.
From poorly constructed english to random surrealism, I find entertainment in the unstoppable flotsam and jetsam that invades my spam box daily. Below, is one of the more lengthy spams I’ve received and a true classic of meaningless text generation. Observe it, enjoy it, absorb it. Hire a jazz quartet, hit your local coffee house and read it as scat.
Fixing Plumbing – An Ode To Spam
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