| So, I started reading the six-hundred-some spam messages filtered out by gmail, and the ones that aren't about Viagra, Cialis, or great deals on contact lenses turn out to be quite interesting, surprisingly: "A salad dressing A pickup truck The moronic hole puncher
The shabby pig pen slyly cooks cheese grits for the apartment building over the cocker spaniel. A grain of sand defined by the asteroid trembles, because some spider about a cheese wheel knows a thoroughly resplendent tomato. Sometimes the greasy mortician prays, but a garbage can about another turkey always steals pencils from a globule! Furthermore, a minivan self-flagellates, and the hypnotic cargo bay competes with the tuba player. Now and then, a power drill pees on another spider. A blotched polar bear takes a coffee break, and a prime minister living with a spider brainwashes a shabby salad dressing. When you see some dust bunny defined by the photon, it means that a nation daydreams. Some cargo bay over the tape recorder knows the squid near a roller coaster. Now and then, a hockey player related to some cab driver buries a lover around a movie theater.
A hydrogen atom from the fundraiser, a microscope over a corporation, and a support group are what made America great! For example, a skinny parking lot indicates that a college-educated CEO greedily cooks cheese grits for a bottle of beer. A foreign mating ritual daydreams, or a defendant seeks some cocker spaniel. Sometimes the single-handledly highly paid globule wakes up, but some phony fundraiser always operates a small fruit stand with an Alaskan senator! A loyal bottle of beer competes with a graduated cylinder beyond a plaintiff. A garbage can is somewhat precise. The surly pickup truck steals pencils from a line dancer for the tornado. Some wheelbarrow is ridiculously mean-spirited. When the pathetic fairy rejoices, some earring gets stinking drunk. A spider of a nation conquers the familiar microscope.
Any fundraiser can find lice on another green industrial complex, but it takes a real bottle of beer to sanitize a briar patch toward a CEO. Some turkey can be kind to a shabby wedding dress. Now and then, a nation over a dust bunny plans an escape from a girl scout an almost paternal fire hydrant. A tornado can be kind to the turkey for the hole puncher. A hole puncher toward a fire hydrant competes with the paper napkin. The moronic hole puncher
A non-chalantly fat turkey Could be, could forbid her last planet building. The truth in from it. without warning. - when them. She flashed him to the elected by humanoids, reptiloids, fishoids, walking treeoids and bring them to the doors in the three sat humped, useful little callousness. The that, out there, completely dead. Ford gazed was desperately by His whiskers finger all over. - he hooted and their mark, - daft as we knew where he been gathering material on switch. Monstrous shadows loomed again. The point " Aww, suspense, the stopped right when they were getting to "The point". It seems like a bogged-down version of mad libs, where every other word is a blank, and the person playing really wants some cheese grits. But, seriously, my question is: Why the FUCK are people spamming this to people? It's not a problem, even, it's just mind-boggling. And what kind of randomizing computer algorithm do they use to make this shit up? And for what reason? Bah... Theres more gold to be dug up among the proverbial viagra pills in my spam box. What? You've never heard that proverb? Well... just use it. People will know what you're talking about. Oh, yeah, I got another one with random theme songs from old TV shows. "But when I end up in the hay it's only hay, hey hey. Do-do-do-do, Cities of Gold. I might jump an open drawbridge, or Tarzan from a vine. 'Cause I'm the unknown stuntman that makes Eastwood look so fine. Just the good ol' boys, never meanin' no harm. Do-do-do-do, Cities of Gold. Children of the sun, see your time has just begun, searching for your ways, through adventures every day. Knight Rider, a shadowy flight into the dangerous world of a man who does not exist. Just the good ol' boys, never meanin' no harm. Birds taught me to sing, when they took me to their king, first I had to fly, in the sky so high so high, so high so high so high, so - if you want to sing this way, think of what you'd like to say, add a tune and you will see, just how easy it can be. Howwww! Nab him, jab him, tab him, grab him, stop that pigeon now. One for all and all for one, it's a pretty story. Ten years ago a crack comm " Look some of 'em up, There's a bunch there. Okay, now my font's going all screwy, so I'll end. |
