On spam

Okay, so writing about spam isn't particularly innovative. My lack of innovation is only one of the reasons why I haven't been able to quit my day job and live off the profits of the Next New Thing! invented by yours truly.* So you're stuck with a post on spam. Suck it up.

Aside from the OEM software spam, the spam I receive the most is that along the lines of "Separate yourself from other men." I know that spammers don't discriminate in who they spam, but I gotta wonder if they'd have more luck with a little targeted marketing. I don't want to "separate myself from other men." I'm already separated from all men by virtue of the fact that I'm not a man. Can't really get more separated from that.

And why is it that I have never once received any spam with the subject line "Separate yourself from other women"? If "separate yourself from other women" would refer to what I think it'd refer, I wouldn't be interested in it in the first place, but nevertheless, there's an opportunity for a feministic rant there. But I don't really consider myself a feminist--or at least not a feminist who goes into feministic rants. And plus, Heroes is going to come on soon; no time for a rant. I have my priorities.

Then there's the spam I receive with the weirdo subject lines, such as "Machiavellian splendor." When I open these up (because how can anyone resist "Machiavellian splendor"?) it appears to be some sort of weather report. At any rate, there's usually something about a storm blowing northeast.**

So once the novelty of Machiavellian splendor wears off, what spam would I actually look at? To be honest, if I'm very bored, "Fix split ends!" might do the trick. Even during the composition of this post, I have spent an inordinate amount of time staring at the ends of a lock of my hair and wondering if I should change conditioner brands. I kid you not. I did that a lot during NaNoWriMo, too. It's interfering with my productivity. Just think, if I were more productive, maybe I could indeed become more innovative. Then I could get the townhouse--er yard*** with muscly foreigner Yosef, and in addition to fanning me with palm fronds, Yosef could massage coconut oil into my scalp and hair, thereby ridding me of the need to read split-end-spam in the first place.

Life is cyclical.


*I would greatly love to live off the profits of the Next New Thing! I'd pay off my debt, get out of my apartment, and buy a nice little townhouse. Only I'd want a yard where I could lounge in the sun while being fanned with palm fronds by a nice, muscly foreigner who doesn't speak English and therefore wouldn't interfere with my innovative thoughts.

See, not even my fantasies are innovative. But you've got to admit that palm fronds in general are very tempting, to say nothing of the muscly foreigner. We'll call him Yosef.

**As yet, my computer hasn't blown up after opening one of these, so I don't think they're viruses. And my antivirus/antispyware/anti-otherstuff software has yet to find something less innocuous than tracking cookies. Should you care about the security of my computers. Cough.

***See the first footnote if you have no idea what I'm talking about.