Funny and/or Strange

Spammers Misfire + Junk Mail Dating Advice

During my recent period of distraction, the official Junk Chuck email inbox ballooned to  3700 messages, and that is not counting the lonely Russian women, offers of lasik surgery 8f43d8876170cec2eb1907c4045c676cand penis enhancement messages (Coincidence? I don’t think so–clearly Olga and Svetlana have some unreasonable expectations from an old, married man–but I’m not sure how the lasik fits in). The Russian Sweetheart to the left is, I am told, wildly eager for me to come to Russia and marry her.  My wife says, “we could use another wife, someone to run the vacuum and do the dishes.”

I’ve also been getting a lot of junk mail with question marks in the addresses and subject lines, like this…

� View � Photos Of CHRlSTlAN SlNGLES In � Your Area

Because, um, that tricks me into thinking it’s a legitimate message that deserves rescue from the email graveyard.  I mean, “christian singles?” Take my advice–I’ve never strayed, but if I was going to start I sure as hell (that’s irony I intentionally put there, please smirk just a little) wouldn’t be jamming on Christian Singles.  Not even HOT CHRISTIAN SINGLES.  For good, indiscriminate sex, you ought to be looking for someone who’s damn sure we only get one trip around before the grand leap into the great void, and Succubus_(folklore)wants to squeeze every bit of lemonaide from the lemons, so to speak, and not a person fixated on eternal bliss and yada yada salvation and whose secret fantasy is verbal flogging at the hand of Cotton Mather.  You’ll be much happier arranging for a clandestine hookup with MODERATELY ATTRACTIVE ATHEIST SUCCUBUS CERTAIN THERE’S NOTHING MORE THAN THIS!  Of course, those Apocalypse Is Nigh, doom-obsessed, Kirsten-800x1066frothing-mouthed Armageddon Princesses or Princes might be ripe for a last grasp at original sin, but I’d be careful.  The cult thing is a big turn-off.  You’d probably be more happy with a garden variety Nihilist who’s looking–though not too hard–for nothing more than a temporary distraction from the paralyzing emptiness of it all.

Just remember, if she arrives at your place with a rodent on a chain and demands to know where the money is, just get the hell out there.  Kinky stuff is not about to happen, and she may try to pee on the rug.