Spamalot

(Editor’s note: I don’t really feel like blogging today, but in order to change up the page, I give you this from the archives of my old myspace blog…)

Today is shaping up to be a very good day.

I’m not sure if I should share this with you or not for fear of losing out on this unbelievable, once-in-a-lifetime deal, but I’m afraid I can no longer contain my unbridled enthusiasm.

You see, I just received an e-mail letting me know that I have miraculously been approved for that low, low, low mortgage rate of 3.9 percent.

Great.

I didn’t even know I had bought a house.

Martha, though, apparently has the inside track on my personal finances, and she just couldn’t wait to let me in on the news. After all, an offer like 3.9 percent doesn’t come every day — it’s more like 10 times a day.

Thanks to the pleasures of mass e-mails, more often referred to as spam, although I think that’s an insult to potted meat-like products everywhere, people like me can enjoy the finer aspects of life that have previously only been offered to a select few.

Things like low mortgage rates.

Dorothy Melendez also wrote to tell me (actually, the note was was to “Shauna,” but it was my e-mail and her loss) about a site that was “very useful to me it helped me save alot of money on my m0rtgage payment, im saving thousands.”

Count me in. Dorothy was so excited about the offer she couldn’t even type periods, commas and apostrophes in her e-mail. Hey, when you can save “alot” of money, why fret over things like grammar?

The end of Dorothy’s e-mail, however, left me a bit puzzled, as it contained a stream-of-consciousness list of words that seem to be some sort of code, which I’m sure I’ll need to get in on these great savings: “apt jerky adkins circumferential dane cecil churchyard adiabatic fit dame parsimonious polymorphic baronial mauritius citadel hobgoblin salamander encumber sprain insinuate pound shadowy incense decimate disulfide escapee washington bose chit funnel achromatic balance.”

That’s a mouthful.

Now that I have this amazing mortgage rates, I guess I really have no choice but to build a dream home. Fortunately, the Home Remodeling Experts sent me an e-mail with the subject “Find a contractor for any home project fast.”

Dorothy and Martha must have tipped them off.

I wish I knew what the Experts were offering. When I opened the e-mail, all I got was a note telling me that “This image has been removed for security reasons.”

What kind of information could they have possibly been sending me that would have violated security codes? Was this from Gall’s Inc., or has the Patriot Act finally gone too far? Big Brother can monitor my every move all he wants, but he needs to keep his grubby mitts off my home project.

It’s a good thing Sterling sent me his e-mail, “Prying Eyes have you worried?” As a matter of fact, yes, they do, Sterling (or is it Mr. Sterling?).

Good ol’ Sterling is offering me “TraceDestroyer.”

“Is Your Privacy Secure?” Sterling asked me. “Protect Your Privacy Now. Cl’ick Here for Information.”

I ch’ickened out and didn’t cl’ick anywhere.

Then came Wilda Jeffers.

Ms. Jeffers got right to the point. “Can You Last 36 Hours?” she asked me.

If she’s referring to what I think she’s referring to, then the answer is both “no,” and “who in the world can do — or would want to do — anything for 36 hours?”

In the span of a day and a half, I would require at least five meals and two snacks, three showers, eight hours of sleep and 30 minutes to read a book, none of which are exactly easy to accomplish while doing what she’s suggesting.

Feeling somewhat inadequate, especially after more than a few e-mails have suggested such a thing in various departments, I found myself a bit depressed, which is where Paula came into the picture.

Paula, whose credentials are non-existent and can therefore not be questioned, told me her “ph@rm@cy has the best anti-anxiety drugs, lose weight pills, nervousness and tension relieve and more. No prior prescription needed! No Sh!pp!ng charge! No appiontments! No waiting rooms! No embarassment!”

No mas. No mas.

Please make it stop.

I took Sterling up on his offer to “cli’ck here if you would not like to receive future mai’lings.”

The page was blank.

Maybe I should e-mail him.

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