Spam

Oh SPAM! Oh SPAM! Gourmet delight!

My food by day, my dreams by night.

To carve, to slice, to dice you up–

No, wait, the other kind of spam.  That poem comes to us courtesy of John Strong, by the way.  Who ends this delightful couplet with “pureed in a blender and sipped from a cup.”  Which…no thanks on that.

No, my post today reflects on others’, equally sad attempts to make (the other) spam palatable.  I reliably get between 400 and 500 new comments in my spam folder every day; this morning I woke up to 446.  Oh, how I wish they were real comments!  At least some of them, anyway.  Of the several hundred of you who visit my site everyday, most of you don’t comment.  Perhaps that’s because you are spambots.

In any case, spammers do their best to be interesting.  Occasionally I scan them; I’m always meaning to save the best ones but I never do.  This morning, the top comment in the queue (and thus the only one I really read) informed me that “you actually get a B- for hard work.”  More often than you might think, I get quite philosophical remarks: like the one (which I get quite frequently) telling me that everything is ashes in this person’s mouth and the world is going to end.  Which, considering the weather we’ve gotten this fall, I can well believe.

Part of me wants to write back and tell them about how my cat plays dead when he (feels that he hasn’t) gotten enough attention.  He’s also a Maine coon and weighs roughly the same as my toddler.  Who isn’t a small individual, either.  Lately he’s been refusing to wear pants and I wonder, is this because Donald Duck doesn’t wear pants?

Happy Halloween, everyone.  I hope it’s a good one.  Remember to answer the door in pants.