The Lowest Form of Wit

A key from her bedroom is in my pants.  Great.  If the key to her house is in there too, and it has her address written on it, then we’ll be in business.

If your name’s "Gaylord Shyng" then trying to calculate 73% of something worth zero is the least of your worries.  Figuring out how to get back to the 80’s should probably be your first concern.

That’s a worry - the FBI, seeking to somehow secretly connect to the internet using some kind of wires.  Sounds pretty implausible but you never know with technology these days.

Doctors secretly recommend this.  Because obviously it’s of the utmost importance to doctors that they closely guard their best remedies.

Having endured enjoyed a few weeks worth of scintillating spam subject-lines since starting back at work for the year, it’s only fair that I now share the cream of the crop with you, the loyal imaginary reader.

Rather than keep you in suspense any longer, let’s jump straight in and see what enticing goods are on offer this month.

Actually I’m not quite sure exactly what goods are on offer with this one. Anyone who can read it, feel free to let me know what it says:

Sometimes adjacent spams combine to create fortuitously complementary combinations.  This is not one such occasion:

Got problems in life?  Well it appears that your solution is here:

…because life is pleasure with antidepressants!  Grammatically-speaking, they could be asserting that the pleasure of life is broken only by the presence of antidepressants, but… probably not.

Belongs with other such truisms as “Girls are hot with antifreeze!” and “Get a head with antibodies!”.

Before you go spending your latest paycheck on the pure pleasure being dispensed by the doubtless completely-reliable Mssr M Piercy above, you might want to take heed of the warning below:

That’s right – beware of fake pills!  Like, for example, those probably being charlataned-off by nobody’s-very-good-friend, Mr Brady Gray.  Oh, wait…
 
As a general rule I don’t expect much in the way of actual wit from the wang-enhancement spammers, but recently one appeared to stop diverting his brain’s already-minimal blood flow for just long enough to mount a campaign of almost-humourous spams subject’d with popular phrases/lyrics/etc perverted into wang-related lines.

However with that decadely quota of wit having quickly diminished to flaccidity, we appear to be back to normalsville.  Well, not quite normalsville. 

Because the guy above has a wide spectrum of boner enlargers!  That’s right - when the first one doesn’t work, you can give him money for the next one!  You know the drill.  Package up your credit cards in a wrapping of blank cheques, write your internet banking details on the back, and send to the above address…

So you’ve spent all your money on completely-authentic \/|a6Ra, dubious pumping devices and the like… oh no!  But not to worry, because you, Name, have been selected!

Life would be so much simpler if spammers would neglect to complete their subject-line templates in this fashion more often - only moreso. 

"<Name>, you’ve been <targeted for scamming/ripping-off/time-wasting> - <miscellaneous bullshit attempt to trick money out of you>".

I promise, with the combined sincerity of all the above-illustrated spams, to literally give money to the first spammer who tempts me with such an honestly-presented offer.

Administering the office computers is part of my job, and one of the regular menial tasks I perform involves trawling through our Spamtrap, to weed out and forward-on the obvious false-positives.  After awhile it becomes an endless blur of:

The same tired old stock ads
Wow, I can exchange some of my money - booo money! - for some must-have shares in Antique Mongolian Tractor Valves - yay shares!!

Various penis enlargement propaganda
If I used my dick to press the Delete key every time I had to get rid of one of these spams, it would be utterly huge by now.

A range of high-quality and doubtless-reliable pharmaceutical goods
Aldous Huxley wishes he’d thought of such a pervasive and efficient sex-drug distribution system.

I can only conclude that your average spammer’s idea of Utopia is a world where men roam the planet with disproportionately-massive 36-hour hard-ons in an endless quest for the world’s worst and most doomed-to-failure stocks.  The Matrix eat your heart out.

Occasionally an individual spam subject-line will jump out at me as I scroll through the pages, a brief transcendental moment of spam brilliance.  To preserve these gems of twisted human enterprise, I propose a Spam of the Week feature (possibly even a Spam of the Arbitrary-Time-Frame feature, if you’re extra-lucky).

Here’s a recent one:

So it’s a normal day in Spamland, with beautiful exotic ladies on offer for all and sundry (as in real life).  But hey, just for the fun of it, let’s randomly add the word "anus" to the end of the subject line. Hell, why not?? Maybe it was a typo - maybe he meant to put a full-stop there, but accidentally typed ‘anus’ instead - we’ve all done it.

And another:

A "wide-ranging body-part for[r]est".  Yum, how enticing!  Wait while I restrain my credit card, which is attempting to tear out of my wallet so it can propel itself magic-carpet style, directly to the source of such tempting wares.  I take it they’re going after the ever-lucrative "serial killer" segment of the online market.