A thousand monkeys hammering a thousand typewriters for a thousand years might produce Shakespeare but spambots aren’t up to the task. Not that I care. Most incoming spam is killed by filters long before it slimes up my in-box. (My filters do a shockingly good job. I liken them to a pack of trained wolverines. Why? Because nothing says “get off my lawn” like a wolverine. If I could buy a wolverine guard “dog” I’d get three!)
That said, here are a few bits of spam that washed up on my filter:
“I’d like to shoot you ann e-mail. I’ve got some creative ideas for your blog you might be interested in hearing.”
No you don’t. First of all you can’t spell. Who makes a robot that can’t spell? Further, your link goes to something called “Paint On Bridal Position”. A site which is apparently about shoes. If you’re going to entice me with something called Paint On Bridal Position it had better darned well be porn on a level that has gone beyond merely prurient and drifted full circle into awe inspiring. Imagine my disappointment to read of shoes!
“When some one searches for his vital thing, so he/she wants to be available that in detail, thus that thing is maintained over here.”
You’re this dog aren’t you?
“Heya! I’m at work browsing your blog from my new iphone 3gs!”
Put down the phone and get back to work. The boss isn’t paying you to sit on your ass.
“It’s the best time to make some plans for the future and it’s time to be happy. I’ve read this post and if I could I desire to suggest you some interesting things or tips. Maybe you could write next articles referring to this article. I desire to read even more things about it!”
Ahhh… nothing better than “politician spam”. Politician spam (a term I just coined) is when spam starts with a statement that is beautiful in its poise and simplicity… then drops a truckload of irrational gibberish on it. It reminds me of the political speech our society has seen fit to substitute for reasoned debate.
Folks, we should heed the spam. Right now really is the best time to make plans for the future and it’s always a good time to be happy. Thus I’m logging off and will immediately adjourn for the porch swing, where I’ll happily make plans of the bright and shiny future when there will be wolverines frolicking on the lawn.
“Who makes a robot that can’t spell?”
Everybody and his cousin Freddy, apparently.
The possibility of Skynet without spell check is abhorrent. I want my nemesis to be literate!