Unlike the disturbing spam I received a few weeks ago, I just got the BEST SPAM EVER. Not only is it from the best spam name ever. Not only does it use air quotes (“get it?”). Not only is it written partially in Olde English. But it is also schizophrenic! What more could you ask for in a spam message?
Lookee:
Buster McThunderstick?
Stop bugging me?
What is this, reverse psychology spam? (“Please UpsideUp! Please don’t throw me in the spam folder! Anywhere but the spam folder!” )
But don’t worry, don’t worry. I won’t click on it. You see, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, and Buster McThunderstick just gave me the lead-in I’ve been looking for. Are you sitting down? You are? Ok. Here goes:
I get around 400 spam messages a day.
Yep. You read that right. Four hundred. Thankfully, most of them are correctly routed to my spam folder, but I’d guess around 30 sneak past airport security and make it into my inbox. Most of those are uninteresting trends that Spam Sieve hasn’t yet figured out (like the slew of “hi it’s {name}” spam I’ve been getting the past few days.
But every so often a good one slips through. Like Mr. Buster McThunderstick. And I have to say, I actually appreciate him for his originality. Because jeez man. If you’re going to crash down the gates and romp around in my personal space, at least do it with a little flair.
So now that I’ve told you about the spammy little skeleton in my closet, here’s my question for you:
Is 400 spams (what is the plural of spam?) a day too many? Do I need to change my email address?
Please share your thoughts.
Or at least your best spam story.
OK, this one made me reply, as clearly it was sent by Megan Callahan.
Whilst in London, our merry band of five participated in a pub quiz, coming in dead last in the actual trivia, I might add. But there was a consolation prize for the team with the best name. Without missing a beat, Megs named us “Buster Hymen and the Penetrators.”
Needless to say, we won.
heh heh, Buster McThunderstick.
Best spam ever, Mr. McThunderstick.
I once received a marriage proposal via spam. That’s actually how I met my husband. Okay, not really about the husband part. But really about the proposal part. I haven’t actually given an answer on that yet.
gee, just yesterday in yoga class I gave myself the name Mr. Crampy McCrampsalot. Coincidence? I think not!
seems to me it should have said “stop buggering me.”
from today:
“The climate inside her, he had come to discover, was like springtime in the Midwest.
Annie was not swayed by pleas.
“Not now, Warner,»he croaked, and began the long, draining job of backing and filling the wheelchair so he could get a straight shot at the door.