I received a crazy spam email today that said the following:
"This has been sent to the most important people on this planet, and you may be one of them."
Just that, that's all it said. No attachments. No subject line.
Now I have two things to say. Person who sent me spam, thank you for the kind words and the shout out. However, what is with this "MAY be one of them" business?
If you're going to send crazy spam you better not be iffy and unclear on your meaning and say MAY. You better commit to the crazy. Why not just tell everyone you send it to they ARE the most important people on the planet? Why leave any doubt?
Perhaps Crazy Spammer meant this as a test or an initiation into a contest or Survivor-like championship for the Most Important Person On the Planet and just forgot to write the rest. If so, I ACCEPT the challenge. Maybe Crazy Spammer is Jeff Probst.
Which brings me to my second point. I wonder who else got this missive of pure insanity? Perhaps Lady Gaga received this same message from Crazy Spammer/Jeff Probst. Perhaps the Gaga is contemplating her own worth and is enraged by the injustice of being told she only MAY be important.
Gaga, you are not alone. But you made millions on a song that contains the phrase RAH RAH AH AH AH ROMA RO MA MA GAGA OOH LA LA. So you're doing all right Gaga. You're doing all right.
July 20, 2010
After work today I took a walk to the local grocery store to get ice cream. I debated on going to Cold Stone for some chocolate ice cream loaded with brownies and lard but then decided to just buy a tub of ice cream because a) I'd have to drive to Cold Stone and ever since I've been able to walk to work I find the act of driving heinous and off-putting and b) a tub of ice cream is the gift that keeps on giving.
I walked into the store, and being on slightly unfamiliar territory with that particular store, meandered first through the soup aisle. Upon spotting my favorite Campbell's mushroom soup, I decided I better grab some of that too. I grabbed 4 cans at first, but then put two back because I decided 4 was excessive. You can have too much soup but you can never, never have too much ice cream.
Deliberate with my quest and not wanting to be distracted by various comfort foods of my youth again, I bee-lined for the freezer aisle. But before I could make it there, what appears before me, unabashed, glistening, and unmistakable on a layered center display? A box of chocolate Entenmann's Donuts. Eight to a box, chocolate frosting, white cake on the inside, most likely some sort of addictive substance baked in.
Without hesitation, I grabbed the box, clutched it to my chest, and speed-walked to the front of the store saying perhaps too loudly "EXCUSE ME" to some man tying his shoe in the MIDDLE of the aisle I was walking down. He was startled but I didn't care. I would have expected the same had I been 7 feet tall and so careless to tie my shoe in the middle of an aisle where tiny short people are trying to get through with their donuts.
When I purchased my two cans of Campbell's and box of donuts the checker asked if I was going to share the donuts. I said, "No sir, I will eat this WHOLE BOX. Probably tonight."
He gave me a pitying look and said, "I hope not. That's sad."
To which I said, "Sir. You are mistaken. This is not sad. This is, in fact, joyous. I eat this box of donuts not because I am sad, but because I rejoice in the memories these donuts give me." (memory of me throwing one at my brother's face in anger, memory of me stuffing one in my pocket and eating it in chemistry class while working with chemicals, memory of one being washed down with a Corona in college).
I think I made myself clear to the checker and I also think I should wait a while to go back there again.
But what a delightful dinner it was. And hey, ice cream, better luck next time.