November 30, 2004
Spam seems to come in trends. Much like rural living brings different noxious odors for each season, one day the majority of my spam seems to be peddling one thing, and another day another. It seems to me that they’ve started hitting mixed messages, however.
I mean, if I had a newly enlarged manhood, drugs to keep it hard enough to cut glass 24/7, a free iPod, a brand new Rolex and a mortgage renegotiated down to a mere whisper of interest, would I REALLY be wanting to buy penny stocks and microcap securities?
No way—it’d be blue chips all the way for me and all of my new nekkid farmgirl slut nurse girlfriends…