Learning to love my spam

What’s this? My “junk mail” file? I don’t usually look at it.

Hey, why does Yahoo label all of this junk? Who is Yahoo to separate the good mail from the bad? Freedom of speech, Censorship. Let me take a look at what is being withheld from me.

The first one is from Cheech & Chong. I remember them from the movies. Weren’t they into drugs? Well, look at this promotion to sell their gummy bears: “Join the legendary duo on a flight to relaxation and good vibes.”

 

Isn’t that sweet! They have gotten off drugs and are selling candy now. Bless them! And stop calling me naïve!

 

And here is another. It is from McAfee, the antivirus company. They have just charged me $268 on my credit card, it says, for a one-year subscription. I don’t remember doing that, but how nice of them to take care of me that way. That will keep the bad guys out. It says, “If you have questions, call this number for service.” Well, I’ll have to do that and thank them!

 

Oh, and here is a message from someone named Cecelia Lambert. “I have no heirs and want to transfer $7.5 million into your account for humanitarian work. Send me your details now. I await your reply.”

 

Well, how thoughtful! I don’t even know Cecelia. Her English isn’t very good—maybe she is a foreigner. But she sounded so polite.  I will call her to help her save humanity. I could make some money off this too!

 

Here’s a good one:  “My name is Adele. You'll meet  your perfect girl  to be with when you match with me on the dating website. I would be glad to be  conversing with you there.”

 

But Adele, I’m married! Why are you sending me this? Do you know something I don’t?

 

OMG! Look at this. It is from a friend who died a year ago. How can that be? An email? Speaking from the grave?

 

This person lived a good life, but you never know: She might be influenced here by the devil. I wonder if I should take her advice.

 

Oh, all it says is: “Look at these great pictures.” Well, sure. They must have been taken at that last party where I saw her.  Click. Crash.

 

Yes, the devil! My computer’s dead. I’d better call those nice people from McAfee!