Spam Pornados - a continuing rant

I am not pointing the wrinkled finger of blame or naming names Sue...
it's just someone inspired me to rant today and it has nothing to do with stir fried spam!

It's not that I am a prude, although I suspect recently I was maybe transformed into one by the old grump faery in my sleep, but I just feel personally violated when unwelcome crap is shoved in my face and into my online mailbox. Uh oh, I feel a rant coming on, lol.
It irks me that someone would sift through my personal stuff and come up with catch phrases and names to trick me into opening their advertisements.

Don't tell me I am the only one who falls for this stuff. After the first email I got from my sister in law Mari (just as an example) I received mail from a plethora of Mary's, Marryme's, Mariannes, Marty's, Mari's and one Jose (don't ask...) selling everything from real estate to relationships. Along with emails from my alleged BofA, Ebay, Searay, and Paypal accounts, (to mention a few) telling me alarming tales of account discrepancies and suggesting I log on right away to clear up any misfortunate misunderstandings by using their quick access link included in the email; "Just log in with your usual information sir, don't be afraid."

Then there is the desperate third world leader of Junagadh who writes his family is being held hostage and will die if I don't help out in a very small and humble way to pay off their ransom by allowing one hundred million Dokdos to be channeled through my bank account of which I will be handsomely rewarded. And let’s not forget the Minister of Finance who needs my bank account to transfer millions of U.S. currency before rebels topple his government. There’s the deposed Prince, who desperately begs my services to assist in obtaining his rightful inheritance by way of using my bank account to transfer the funds in my name, at grave risk to himself and with little choice available so that he must trust me to take possession of his fortune and return it to him for a sizable reward. Or the similar government official who has discovered that I am a distant relative of the late King of Abkahzia and wants me to declare my right to the inheritance that is in risk of being seized by the government if no one makes a claim for it immediately. I must have a great big target painted on my forehead or something.

Finally, I do not need breast implants, require penile reduction, discount drugs from Canada, care to subject myself to priapism stroke or kidney failure by some trendy recreational prescription drug, I don’t want to buy real estate in Honduras, change my insurance carrier, pay someone to tell me how to work online and make millions (I know that secret, get lots of people to pay me to tell them how to make millions), lose weight through your money back guaranteed miracle drug, join the pyramid sales scheme of the week, start an online franchise, become an ebay mogul, I am not going to look for my perfect mate through your website, I don’t want to see what the farmers daughter is doing in the barnyard, I know what my credit score is, I don’t want a loan, I am not interested in your lifetime supply of discounted ink cartridges, I don’t want a free sample of waterproof mascara, and I don’t care if Kate Hudsen works on her tan in the nude. Wait, who is Kate Hudsen? Never mind it doesn’t matter I am not interested in exposing myself to an even larger spam burst by visiting a spam site even if I might be remotely curious which I am not, ok I just googled Kate and I guess she made a movie with John Kusak. I didn’t know! But now I am less interested.

I am a man, a hunter-gatherer. I want to conquer my prey, search for it (not too hard) and make it my own. I don’t go to malls, bazaars, or flea markets to have stuff shoved in my face; I like to hunt the wilds of the internet track my prey find just the right treasure, then make my purchase. I don’t need advertisements to attract and annoy me like too many flies over a dead carcass. I just want commercials to go away.

The author of this blog is unable to continue with this installment as he is curled in a fetal position alone in a dark room muttering to himself “Make them go away!” Perhaps he can come out to play later…