Spam, Anyone?

I have a strange habit of cruising through the junk in the email "Spam" box before I delete everything. I figure, if I don't, that one message from a long-lost, wealthy, nieceless-except-ME, message could just sneak in there. And, boy, would THAT be a lost opportunity.

So, today, the "opportunities" I passed up by directing the messages away from my Inbox were unique, somewhat varied, and, in many a case, disturbing.

A third of my spam messages assured me I could conquer my erectile dysfunction. In case that didn't happen, and I needed to get to sleep without first getting some good, old-fashioned loving, one kind person sent a message to sell me sleep medication.

Three people, who I'm confident are pharmacists, promised to send anti-depressants. Should come in handy if those ED meds don't work.

And, in case my weight is in question and that might be causing me angst, three people guarantee to hop me up on pills to "burn that weight off".

Emery Molina, Moises Koenig, and Marquis Aguilar all wanted to invite me to a party.*

I've been offered positions in Medical Billing**, a job that I can do on "autopilot" that pays $500 for 60 minutes***, and a CAREER in criminal justice. Once my business skyrockets, I also have a contact for business phones.

I was told not to "pay retail", six times offered a "unique 80% off"****, and given the chance to join a buying club. All with the assurance from another message that I can buy knowing that my identity is protected.

I can get $250,000 in life insurance to go with my free, no obligation trip to Cancun after I've learned everything I need to know to remodel my home and checked my credit score.

But, perhaps, my favorite message of all was from the unassuming MaryLynn. She promised jets. Private jets. That could help me fly on my "own time".

The rest of her email address? Home Toy Store.

Yes, readers. Spam is just as disgusting as it's always been and always will be.


*I bet they are serving shots of Jagermiester laced with Viagra.

**Twice, in fact. That MUST BE a hot career of the future.

***I can think of a job like that, too. But, I'm a married woman with morals.

****Off of what? I have NO clue.