Dear spammers: BITE ME. Love, me XXOO
I just deleted over 50 spam messages which were left as comments for my little blog here. FIFTY! While I’m flattered to think that they believe anyone actually reads this tripe, it’s alarming on a whole nother level. These right here are prime examples of people who JUST DON’T GET IT, and yet they try, oh so hard it just makes their tiny little hearts go pitter patter, to get their little V!@GRA and BI66ER PEN15 messages out to the world at large.
Actually, malformed/misspelled titles like that are old hat. Now spam tries to sneak under the radar like a mysterious message from the Orient. “Marcia: Responding to your query,” the title goes, and people immediately begin to wonder: What query? I am indeed a big clueless sack of crap sometimes, and I take pride in making that painfully obvious everywhere I go on the Interweb, but I don’t remember asking any questions of someone called “Marcia.” Who is Marcia? Do I even know a Marcia? Could I have a secret admirer named Marcia? Maybe someone pretty, with honey-colored hair and a tendency to wear waistless 70s-era dresses? That chick was sure hot on L.A. Law. OH LORD I HAVE TO KNOW WHO THIS IS MUST CLICK EMAIL MARCIA MARCIA MARCIA RAARGH and that’s how they get you to buy into yet another can’t-miss penny stock scheme.
As incredibly stupid as spamming is, even more disheartening is that it must work sometimes, at least enough to sustain itself. I suppose in a population of several million you’d probably find a healthy percentage of people who were just wondering how to have one of them four-hour erections they were just talking about in that commercial on Sally Jesse. Damn, four hours, that’d be a hoot. Hang your coat on it, maybe teach the dog to do some chin-ups. That’ll slay ’em down at the Moose Lodge next Wednesday.
I know spammers don’t actually read the blogs they deface, but what the hell, I have to get this off my chest: If the business you’re in has a multi-billion-dollar industry dedicated entirely to stopping you from doing something, then maybe you should consider the possibility to, oh, I dunno, STOP DOING IT. Yeah sure it’s fun to do things that other people don’t want you to do, especially if you’re a zit-ridden 12-year-old whose potential lifetime experience of being inside a woman ended 12 years ago. If you get my drift. But c’mon, some of us just want to hang out. now I know that some people hate you and you get off on that because AT LAST YOU ARE FEARED BY THE WORLD AND YOU WILL MAKE THEM ALL PAY AAHAHAHAHA. Seriously, though, I know Laurie didn’t let you put your hand under her blouse that one time at summer camp, but you can’t blame the entire world for that. Most of us are just folks. You’re being feared and hated by ordinary people. We’re not multi-billionaires or people who have any say in the society you think has abandoned you. Those guys could give a rat’s ass. In fact, you’re putting money in their pockets by forcing the rest of us to pay for anti-spam services. Is that your goal, to sow tiny little seeds of chaos that will ultimately be stamped out and you’ll have nothing to show for it except the lingering disgust of people who would otherwise have been your friends? This is your life and you’re spending it being a dumb little snotnosed butthead instead of actually trying to make things work out for yourself.
Aah, forget it. I’ve depressed myself thinking about how some of these kids would respond to my tirade. I know, I would have said the same thing when I was younger. Now I’m just tired. I won’t even end on a joke. G’night, folks.