In the past two days, I have had 20 separate emails sent to me that made startling assumptions about me. These 20 emails insinuated that I
1. Had some sort of sexual deficiency that can be miraculously cured by...well whatever, I didn't read that far.
2. Had somehow lost my ovaries and gained another piece or two of anatomy, which needed assistance of some sort.
3. Had a need for a long long long list of drugs at really cheap cheap cheap prices.
4. Had a desire to watch and/or participate in somewhat shocking activities.
5. Had better refinance my home using under-the-table financing practices sure to either put me further in debt or in the slammer.
I have a junk mail folder. I have filters. What exactly constitutes junk? Someone should explain it to me, because I do not understand the concept. The aforementioned 20 emails apparently did not fit the junk description. Because they made their home among my legitimate inbox mail. My mother's mail should not have to sit alongside this garbage. I should not even have to look at it.
But there it sits. Every time I log in, -ping- it's multiplied. What to do??!
Perhaps I should stop complaining. Someday, when I least expect it, I'll have a sudden urge to pop some pills, enlarge a body part and take out a second mortgage.
Maybe not in that exact order.
1. Had some sort of sexual deficiency that can be miraculously cured by...well whatever, I didn't read that far.
2. Had somehow lost my ovaries and gained another piece or two of anatomy, which needed assistance of some sort.
3. Had a need for a long long long list of drugs at really cheap cheap cheap prices.
4. Had a desire to watch and/or participate in somewhat shocking activities.
5. Had better refinance my home using under-the-table financing practices sure to either put me further in debt or in the slammer.
I have a junk mail folder. I have filters. What exactly constitutes junk? Someone should explain it to me, because I do not understand the concept. The aforementioned 20 emails apparently did not fit the junk description. Because they made their home among my legitimate inbox mail. My mother's mail should not have to sit alongside this garbage. I should not even have to look at it.
But there it sits. Every time I log in, -ping- it's multiplied. What to do??!
Perhaps I should stop complaining. Someday, when I least expect it, I'll have a sudden urge to pop some pills, enlarge a body part and take out a second mortgage.
Maybe not in that exact order.
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