Spam is Delicious

I've usually scorned junk email but now that the era of effective spam blockers is in full swing, I think I actually like it.

The days of phishing and convincing people to buy impotence medication are long behind us. Now, the attack du jour seems to revolve around random phrases and cultural flashpoints (one subject I received: "On J. Simpson's flash" - I wish!).

One or two weird, misspelled emails a day are just enough to avoid my wrath and pique my curiousity. I've started rifling through all of the messages in my spam folder and constantly stumble across my new favorite.


From: Frances Wong
Subject: Solution for people who can't afford a classy watch

Though I am interested in this solution, the sender-name is always a dead giveaway in spam. I don't know anyone named Frances Wong, silly! Maybe if you followed this guy's lead instead...


From: originaltonyp
Subject: Suck it.

True, tonyp is original, if nothing else. But don't insult me, idiot.


From: damir.s
Subject: Come now pay less! Pilules!

PILULES?!?!?!?? *double-click


I also appreciate those who keep trying the same route, again and again, in the hopes that my spam blocker will be fooled.

From: me
Subject: Sorry, resigning our dinner.
From: me
Subject: Our teacher died.
From: me
Subject: Where is this place?
From: me
Subject: Chief wants you in office.
From: me
Subject: Sending you delivery boy.

I like to pretend this is all just my inner dialogue, though maybe it's just because they sound like they're from a Samuel Beckett play. If any of these subjects end up being my dying words, consider my life a success.

They say that one in every few million or so spam emails actually generate money. When you can send out billions in a day, that must make for a pretty good living. To tell you the truth, I'm slowly becoming more and more tempted to see where exactly all these spam emails lead me to. I'm sure there's a fellowship out there that can pay my way through this.

The Great Debate

One of the first things one can notice when living in New York is the preponderance of food fads. I think asian noodles were a fad a while ago. Now it's Vietnamese sandwiches, though this may be well-deserved.

One fad with some staying power, though, has been cupcakes. Every patisserie and over-priced bakery have a ridiculous, unnecessarily large selection. Cupcakes are good, I admit. As is non-cupped cake. But what about pie??

Pie may be the most versatile of all foods. Delicious breakfast pie? Quiche. Want one for lunch or dinner? Meat pie. And, obviously, the myriad of sweet and/or creamy things you can put in a dessert pie are limitless and only made better with ice or whipped cream.

exhibit (a): proving my point

But cake? Pshh. Cupcakes remain the gourmet asshole's favorite treat. How else is one supposed to treat one's self when they have a night alone at their Gramercy Park mansion? And whenever there's a fancy event, be it corporate or personal, people feel forced to choose cake. Poor form.

I bet if you asked someone if they'd rather have cake or pie at a graduation or company holiday party, they'd choose pie. Cake always suffers from the too-much-icing issue. Pie crust only suffers from the I-could-always-have-more-of-it issue. Think of it this way: what would you rather compete in, a cake-eating contest or a pie-eating contest? That's like asking someone if they'd rather watch Pay It Forward instead of Terminator 2.

Pie's one "drawback" is its size. Pie is really and truly best served in the standard pie size. Small pies, though adorable, are awkward to eat (do I use a fork? my hands?) and large pies are only good for breaking records. But can't we move past this discrimination? Martin Luther King, Jr. did.

exhibit (b): no amount of icing can hide or save this shitshow

If we all like pie, it seems only logical that we act to give it the place in the national consciousness/plate that it deserves. In an age where Joe the Plumber can become a celebrity, surely giving pie a little social boost can't hurt. Let's leave cake for the Bernie Madoffs of the world and start baking a better world.

Professor Flink

There is no better way to waste the final hours of your day.


OBAMA: THINGS ARE FINE WITH ME AND MERKEL - NY Post

Since when did the Post care about the relationship between an American President and a German Chancellor? Bizaree, un-Post territory.

Let me just add that a close second to this was an article on Obama's recent speech: WAY TO MECCA GOOD IMPRESSION.


Auto-Erotic Asphyxia's Deadly Thrill - ABC News

Aside from the headline that makes this sound like a plague that threatens our youth, I really have to admit that this is the #1 worst possible way of dying. Sure, the actual death part would kinda suck, but it's nothing compared to when they find your body. That kind of shame has to find you in the afterlife.

BTW, between 500 and 1,000 people die of this in America every year??


Chile police find suitcase made of cocaine - AP

Speaks for itself, really. I applaud the ingenuity and wonder how, if any, suitcases have gotten through before. Maybe if they had tried a laptop bag; those are pretty heavy, anyways.

Raw Savagery

Man. Fred Savage. I loved the Wonder Years and everything but we all know he's done jack since then. Hell, Winnie Cooper's not far behind - getting married after becoming a mathematician. Woof.

This guy's career is the weirdest thing I have ever seen. How does someone play a serial rapist in Law & Order while directing two episodes of That's So Raven. Only two, Fred? If you do more than one, you'd think you'd do several. Perhaps his directing was, in fact, not so Raven.

a picture of Fred Savage

Honestly, not much happened after the Kevin Arnold years. No capitalizing on being Fred Savage, no wacky drug stories, no nymphomaniacal years in college. He went to Stanford and majored in English. There were a few odd jobs in TV and film, all forgettable. Just plain ol' Fred Savage. Kind of a dork.

Nowadays he's directing some decent series and has a young family. Fred Savage.

Man, this was the least funny thing I've ever done.

Yeesh.

Not much time available today, so this'll have to be brief.

The Wikipedia article on freckles is pretty benign and starts with this classic freckle picture:

Fair enough.

The Wikipedia article on moles, however, starts with this picture:

Yikes. Unnecessary close-up. Thanks, but no thanks, Jimmy Wales.

Revelation

Maybe it's because the Beatles are in the news due to the newest edition of Rock Band, but I swore I saw Ringo Starr on the street today.

After a second look, I realized this guy actually looked like Ringo Starr if he tried too hard and had let himself go a little.

Which then prompted me to think that maybe, yes, the man I saw was Ringo Starr.

R.I.P.

Well, the decades of suspense are finally over: Archie's getting married! Yep, that Archie - the friend of Jughead, citizen of Riverdale, and embarrassing member of my childhood bookshelf.

I don't want to ruin the surprise, but I'll go ahead and do it anyways. He's gonna marry Veronica. Congratulations.

Why now, Archie? You had such a good thing going - the perfect scenario, really. The rich hottie and...the not-rich hottie. Unless I lost count, that's two hotties. And who doesn't want a coupla hotties engaged in jealous combat over you, especially if "you" is a bushy-eyebrowed coward with a permanent tic-tac-toe board on the side of your head?

this is kinda fucked up, right?

On top of it all, you had a pathetic friend whose misnomer, though not accurately describing his headgear, did capture the je ne seis quoi of a young man who unironically wears something resembling a crown. No matter what shenanigans befell you, this sidekick virtually guaranteed your superiority by comparison - but not anymore. Give this kid 6 Archie-less months and I bet he'll realize the joke you've made of him for the past 68 years. A pie in the face is least of your troubles when you've robbed a man of his pride and assault rifles remain legal.

Evidently the marriage issue will cover Archie's life 5 years after the deed has been done. Let me look into my crystal ball...ah, yes...I see a man tortured by the ennui of an elite he doesn't belong to, crushed by his inability to maintain social graces, and left empty through the scorn of his pampered children. Have fun, big guy.