Spam Spam Spam Spam Spam

I recently became that sort of woman everyone has worked with who can always trump your bad story with hers. “Oh you think that’s bad ?”, she’ll say  and launches into rant proving her life sucks worse than yours. As this foggy bad state of mind was lifting, I realized I had not been receiving many of the blog posts I’d subscribed too. Not that I had any time to read. I went to one site to re-subscribe and I was told I’d already subscribed, Loserina. Hmmm, curiouser and curiouser.

Back to my mailbox to check in my spam file. I had found library notices in there before and my inkling was telling me there was more to discover there again. Lo and behold, four different blog feeds were clogging up the spam file, among other spam-o-delicious tidbits. These were some of the more interesting things happening in the spam file.

I had received titillating e-mails written in the hopes I’d purchase help for performance issues of the stand up kind. There were e-mails hawking homeopathic weight loss substances and lawyers for your possible antidepressant lawsuit. If you were prescribed this medication, could you muster enough ire to use a lawyer?

I had two favorites. The first was Tara the psychic who is apparently watching me. Hey Tara what am I doing now? How about now? And  second, the many ads that said  the FBI and other agencies are doing back ground checks on me and I can find out what they found out. Help yourself gentlemen. My driving record is clean. My colon is too. And my husband has got presidential security clearance. So there.

Today’s check of the spam file reveals I may be obese, have a criminal record, and am in need of a scooter as I must apply for my social security disability today. And I was just beginning to twitch about my floors being dirty floors. What’s in your spam file?