when i think of spam - i think of two things: Monty Python and a really yummy broiled sammich my mom makes with spam, cheese, tomato sauce, onions & olives.
usually don't think of penile implants. or larger boobs. or even getting on board with the hottest stock deal ever.
however, that's what clogs my Bulk email box day after day after day...
ew.
they're getting really clever, those sneaky spammers. the sender's name has a first AND a last name, and lately the subject line tries to get personal "hi val its clariese."
first off, i don't know anyone named Clarisse. secondly, it wouldn't be spelled wrong if i did. third, most of my friends know that the proper usage is "it's" not "its".
not to mention that the majority of my friends, even my perpetually drunk ones, know i personally have no need for penile implants. oh sure, i've been occasionally accused of having balls, but rest assured they're limited to the tennis balls i still have in my car for my back.
or if Andre Agassi wants a quick pick-up game of tennis.
then i saw on the news this a.m. that the newest thing is that you get a phone call, and your caller id says "Hometown Bank" or some such thing. the recording states they are calling from account verification and asks you to input your bank account number. after you do, guess what? you just got ripped off for all your cash.
nice. let's hope the geniuses that came up with this scheme get condos in hell right next to O.J.
that, my friends, would be karma coming home to roost.
happy Monday.
(p.s. - prayers today, please for the Husband...he has three (count 'em!) three interviews today - and let's hope and pray one results in a job offer. he's completely miserable at the current job and needs a fresh start.)
2 comments:
Sending good vibes to Mr B.
And I can relate to spam..who knew we could get bigger boobs, hot babes, and a better mortage deal right from the comfort of our old computer chair!?
:o)
Good vibes coming to So. Cal!
About that spam - we used to get it really, really bad at work. One of my co-workers was near tears one day, because she kept getting emails about losing weight. She is a big girl - about six feet tall, and has struggled with her weight for years.
A: Who is this? How do they know I need to lose weight?
Me: Um, aren't you getting ads for penis enlargement too?
A: Yeah. What's your point?
Me: "They" must not know you too well, or they'd know you had no need for such things.
I finally convinced her that it was random, and not someone watching her and sending her those emails.
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