Sweep, Block All You Want But The Spam Shall Return

Thursday, April 26, 2012

My spam box is emulating real life. No matter how many times I sweep and mop the floor, the dust balls return with vengeance. Dead skin cells start stacking and microbes you don't even know exist lay multiplying like it's petri dish heaven. Dusts collect and gather. A fact of life; that we shed expired skin and drag fecal matter wherever we go until we drop dead where we then become a giant pile of expired lumps of putrefying meat and fecal matter.

Spam emails in a way are like dusts that even when they are swept and then blocked, they return. Except with a major twist; they come back with even more mindless idiotic titles that serve to remind us spammers do not think highly of our intellect.

I know that they're located in the spam/junk folder and can be left alone to be automatically destroyed at a later date. But, being quite insufferably anally-retentive I had to delete them immediately. And thus, I have no choice but to visit the folder every single time I log on on my accounts, cracking open a door for a quick entertainment.

The junk emails are often male-oriented, targeting the sensitive locale of the male anatomy as a trigger point to induce curiosity of simple-minded persons to click. Who'd have thought that the trash is sexist. I guess spam moderators aren't that detail-oriented enough to know what type of genitalia I'm currently rocking.

My indifference to the suggestions of enlarging male private parts is glaringly understandable. Maybe troubled men with penile dysomorphic disorder have a unique appreciation for these emails, but why on earth would they place their trust on junk emails for that bit of info. There're tons of real sites and real clinics to visit. As for an immediate remedy for impotence, that's just euphemism for something dodgy. I doubt that it'd be on female impotence, anyway.

And Viagra? How generic is that? Okay that sounds harsh. Who knows maybe someday I may need them magic pills after I go through a sex change operation only to find out that my junk is junk.

It is just old how these Viagra-chanting emails keep popping up as if by their sheer repetition, I may feel enthused to click. I guess it takes a bit of understanding to see that there may be a place for this male-catered spam. That they're not that lame. Why? Because they're made for those who are completely taken in by their dangling organ, and if they so merely wish, they can upgrade but never ever downgrade it, or else, be forever doomed without a partner to stay by their side if they don't freakin' sell their souls to the spamville.

I wonder what you, as a man, feel about these simplistic call-for-action emails that prey on your oh so fragile sense of sexuality. Do you easily fall for their very moving message of shocking your buddies with that amazing tool?

Good Life, if we're not selectively attached to an idea of something, we'd simply wilt and die of boredom. Thank you Spam Ministry, for your constant effort in spicing up our collective inboxes.

Upon keywording the word 'spam' on Wikipedia interestingly, I found that it is originally a term used to describe 'spiced ham' which was apparently present in every dish in Monty Python sketch (1970). The inescapability of spam is analogous to the presence of gluten in our modern day diet.

Just you wait for the rise of gluten emails, spammers!

Image Credit:
Unnatural Selection by Joel Nakamura
Man Resting by Jimmy Kelly


shanaz@RS | 3:25 AM | Labels:

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