A quick look through my bulk email is not going to happen. I have 412 messages, which combine to offer me all that a man, a woman, a donkey or some blend of the three could possibly want. Be forewarned, I have no kids, so the family filter is NOT turned own. If you’re easily offended, move along. If you’re not, blindfold the kids before you read on. Some of the stuff I find in my bulk email is just plain disturbing.
Ah, an offer for something called “Hoodia Supreme.” I don’t know what that is – a drug that makes you feel like you’re in the hood, perhaps? I think I’ll pass. Hey, I can meet hot singles in my area! I wonder if they’ll mind if my wife comes along to supervise?
Oh, a public service email – “Read this before purchasing penis enlarge products!” I guess the word “enlargement” is too long for their purposes. Happily, so am I. Here’s another – “Increse your penis width by 20%!” Uh, who’s going to do the measuring to validate that? Since 24 of these emails are for penis enlargement products, I have to wonder – am I the only man in America who doesn’t have a complex about this?
Another couple dozen offer Viagra, or Super-Viagra or Viagra with less calories. Long before I purchase any such thing – from somebody I don’t know, who contacted me by random via spam – I’ll be responding to the touching letter of recently orphaned and widowed Mr. Veridou Camptomata, who wants me to send him my personal banking information so that he do what God has asked and deposit $30,000,000 in my account to hold for him as he tries to make his way out of war torn Naimibilla. Apparently we’ll be splitting this money when he gets here to the states, as a thank you for my trusting him enough to send him my banking info. Yeah. Why not get the penis enlargement folks to help with that pal? Anybody who thinks I’m giving them money in exchange for mystery meds that could contain god know what and may or may not cause my naughty bits to swell might be gullible enough to provide you with their banking info. You’re not getting mine, unless God walks walk in here and puts a gun to my head.
Ah, here’s something that will help me grow my hair back overnight. I’ll have to lose it first, folks, so check with me after my next cranial flash fire. Hey, I can eat anything I want and still lose weight! Of course, I can already do that by engaging in something I like to call, “exercise.” Plus, I weigh 165 pounds soaking wet, and since I’m not a dwarf, maybe this isn’t the product I most need right now. What’s next for my apparently perverted, small/soft membered, bald, fat, dateless self?
“Ten most common mistakes women make with men.” Now you’re assuming that my shorts are so empty from not buying your penis enlargement products that I can pass for a woman? I think my walk will still give it away. What else have ya got? “Your Mortagee approved!” Oh, there’s good news. I’m so insecure about this – I desperately need the approval of my mortagee, even from random spam senders.
Uh-oh, gotta go. My PalPal account’s been compromised. Nine times. I better send them all of my banking info, so they can “ccoorect” this “immeediately.”