Junk emails drive people nuts. But I leave the doors open and let it flood in because it gives me a good giggle at least once a day.
Here’s my Spam poem, a paen to the wondrous, curious, rude and downright bizarre offers that drop into my inbox.
An Ode to Mr Spam
Mr Spam sells Canadian meds, and things to get us off our heads.
Mr Spam promises love and devotion from dodgy dudes across the ocean.
Mr Spam can triple my IQ, so I’m considerably cleverer than you.
Mr Spam transfers me vast amounts, from his family’s bank accounts.
Mr Spam sends a Russian bride, four feet tall and five foot wide.
Mr Spam can stretch my dick, a whole new sex life in one click…
Shame I’m a chick 😉
