| E-mail !! Well, at least it doesn't kill trees. I have come to believe, however, that most e-mail messages contain tiny bites of information that instruct your computer to emit mild shots of brain cell destroying radiation. What else could possibly explain some of the messages I get.
The most annoying ones are sent by what I call compulsive forwarders. These folks seem to thrive on forwarding e-mail to everyone they know. What's really bad is if it's a chain-mail and contains the words "be sure to send this back to me so I know you love me ( or got it, or whatever)" and is sent from one compulsive forwarder to another. Then this thing is going to bounce back and forth between the two and all the contacts on their e-mail list until one of them dies or their computer crashes and the Lord of cyberspace takes away all their e-mail addresses so they can't torment anyone for at least a short while. Meanwhile, the sane among us are expected to endure the barrage because the e-mail is in memory of a child who died of cancer or the victims of 9-11 or some other entity that I surely believe deserves a better legacy than to torment me through my inbox for years to come. Meanwhile, cyberspace e-mail address farming programs are sucking up all the addresses and selling them to marketing companies who in turn fill my inbox with offers of products, ideas, and various other suggestive items most of us would have been better off if we didn't know they even existed. I mean Lord have mercy. How many penis enlargement products can one man stand. That is unless of course he really does want to stand on one leg with neither foot touching the ground. Then if you add to that the "viagra-like" and "same-as-viagra" and "better than viagra" offers that abound as well, oh never mind. It's all to mind boggling to imagine what life might be like if..... I'm also tired of e-mails asking me to "enhance my breast". I'm a slightly overweight 52-year-old man who can already see a sagging chest that could have been the inspiration for Jerry Seinfelds "Man Bra" episode. As time continues to be so ungracious to a body I was never that proud of anyway, I certainly don't want to enhance that fact. Then, after I'm told I'm too small, not virile enough, and need bigger breast, they send me a flood of porn-mail just to let me know that all they said was true. Of course by this time, my ego is a mere puddle on the floor and I'm wondering why the closest relationship I have is with my neutered cat. Now, while I am at my all time lowest, I get mail from some poor soul in Nigeria whose family has been badly persecuted and if I will send him my bank account information he will let me help him get 20 million US dollars out of his country and give me 400 thousand for my trouble. Since my present state of mind won't allow me to resist, I send him the information he wants along with a note explaining about my "tiny member", lack of stamina, and large breast. To my surprise, I get a note back telling me he has deposited $100 into my checking account and good luck with therapy. Stumbling on through my crowded inbox I discover an offer to buy "legall" (notice the misspelling) copies of all major programs from Windows XP to Microsoft Office for mere pennies on the dollar. So the $300+ Office Suite I just purchased could have been had here for $12.95. The $100 gift from Nigeria doesn't even help at this point. The puddle of ego on the floor is seeping through to basement level. Next is a letter from Citi-Bank asking me to verify all my information with them by sending them my account number, social security number, and password. Now I've read the snail-mail note I got from CitiBank telling me not to do this but my judgment is impaired from the stress and this one looks so legitimate. I soon find that not only is the $100 I got from Nigeria gone but so are my retirement funds, college funds for my daughter, and all the money I had squirreled away in a separate account to pay for my visit to Betty Ford's new Internet Junkie clinic. As the sun rises, (yes this was a night time activity) my beautiful daughter enters the room to see I am nowhere to be found. Hearing muffled noises coming from under the sink in the kitchen, she opens the cabinet to find her father curled into the fetal position, whispering the evils of e-mail to the cat, and fondling his somewhat large breast. Martha Stewart where are you when I need you? |
| Papasmurf on: E-mail |
| I have written a cute little program that responds to e-mails sent to multiple addresses. It explains why this should not be done and then it deletes the original e-mail. You can read the message it sends here. It is in document format so your computer will ask you to download it. I assure you there is no danger so you may simply click OPEN in the pop-up window. |
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