Qanzaspeak

My favorite spam subject lines from the past month or so:

madonna hired buttscratcher
look at this shit
use mind to improve your fang
her beaver needs more times a night
absorb energy for longer nailing
to cream his croak
many do not trust, but it is real

And the winner is…

stop deleting my damn emails

Damn! Spam has reached a new low. According to my in-box, I’m sending myself e-mails about penile enlargement. Seems a little virusey. Time for a system scan. Still, now I’m feeling insecure. I imagine my doppelganger typing e-mails to me from another dimension while muttering, “You could always be bigger.”

And he’s not talking about fame.

This Facebook thing is outta’ hand. After holding out for a long time, I allowed myself to be cajoled into joining. This is my bitchiness ranking on the personality application. I’m not self-aware enough to know if it’s accurate, but I think it’s funny.

Part-Time Bitch
You are half-bitch, half-sweetheart. You know what the nice thing to do is, and will do it… if you feel like it. People are often scared to get to know you, but once they do, they realize you’re not that bitchy all the time!

Part-time, eh? The pay is okay, but there aren’t any benefits. I’m gonna’ have to amp up my bitchiness if I ever want to provide for my family. Wait, what family? Legally I’m not entitled.

Was that bitchy? I’m sorry.