How to Make Me Read Your SPAM E-mail

If you're anything like me, (and God, I hope you're seeking help) you get quite a lot of SPAM e-mails boasting about the next big HOT stock on the market. These e-mails generally have some basic subject header and when opened, reveal a chart with all sorts of facts and figures, followed by complete and utter gibberish. Allow me to demonstrate (click the images to enlarge)...

Stock info

Gibberish

Normally I just ignore them completely. Occasionally I get fooled by one and some SPAM slips through. However when I get an obvious SPAM e-mail from a Roosevelt Quintero, I just gotta check it out. I mean, a name like that just can't be ignored.

So Roosevelt sent me an e-mail with some stock info. The twist? There was complete non-gibberish BEFORE and AFTER the stock info; stuff so completely random and funny in or out of context I just had to share.

Here's the parargraph before all the stock info.

Searching for what, Paulie? The reason she had to bring him the bedpan so infrequently was not only because he was on a diet consisting entirely of liquids and gelatines (earlier, when he was in the cloud, she had fed him intravenously), but also because Novril had a tendency to cause constipation in patients taking it. He had even burned his notes. They had simply gone back to the old routine, Paul writing, Annie reading each days output, and enough time had passed between the argument and the thumbectomy that Paul had missed the connection.

And here are the THREE brilliant paragraphs afterwards.

"She were a good lady, sair! Before this strange experience, he had considered four pages a day to be his optimum output (on Fast Cars it had usually been three — and only two, on many days — before the final finishing sprint). Late that afternoon, as the first of the village people had begun wending their way up Calthorpe Hill to pay their respects to the grieving lord, Shinebone had returned. The Royal typewriter made a shitty writing machine, but as an exercise tool it was great.

"That night I changed your medication for something a little stronger, and when I was sure you werent going to wake up even if someone exploded a grenade under your bed, I got my little tool-kit from the cellar shelf and I took the keyplate off that door. Indices meant nothing to her.

They were giving you pain, and you could only move them a little, but you were moving them. "She now laid the first page of Fast Cars on the grill, words he remembered writing some twenty-four months ago, in the New York townhouse: "I dont have no wheels,Tony Bonasaro said, walking up to the girt coming down the steps, "and I am a slow learner, but I am a fast driver.

Come on! How can you knock artistry like that? There was a freakin' thumbectomy & a bedpan involved for fuck's sake!

I know that reprinting this crap will only serve to bring me more SPAM e-mails. However, play value is way more important to me and making you smile is always on my list of crap to do in a day.