I’m one of those people who tries to keep my Inbox relatively clean.  I fail miserably, but at least I want it to be more uncluttered than it is, and I think that aspiration counts for something.  However, one battle front on which I am an unequivocal victor is that of the Spam folder.  I manually delete that shit before Gmail even has the chance to do it for me.  When empty, the Spam folder displays the text “Hooray, no spam here!” and I think, “You’re goddamn right there isn’t.”

But once in a while, the universe sees fit to bestow upon me a piece of electronic junk mail so wonderful and perfect, so beautifully off-kilter in either its subject line or content, that it gives pause to my ‘delete’ finger.  Case in point, this message that I received yesterday:

Such a simple and perfect non-sequitur.

Or is it?

One day later, I received this little nugget from a different address:

Holy christ!
What seemed at first like total random word generation has suddenly turned into a somewhat linear pseudo-narrative!  Whatever the fuck nekkid Britney did in that video to expose the secret trifecta has apparently caused her untimely demise, and set off a chain of events that will undoubtedly lead to the King of Pop having one of his plastic ears bitten off on pay-per-view. I’m keeping my eyes peeled for the next installment of this saga to get caught in my mail filters.

(NOTE: Yes, I blurred the links. And I deleted the messages after I took the screenshots.  If we click on spam links, even in the name of investigative internet comedy-journalism, then the terrorists have won.  Besides, whatever they linked to could never be as good as the stories y’all are forming right now.)

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To me, the Smurfs were an ambient childhood experience like the smell of apple juice, Cheerios, and urine. They were something I never consciously stepped towards or moved away from, they were just kinda around for a long time, and then gradually faded away.

The Smurfs were on for four hours every Saturday morning, and I never knew anyone who begged their Dad to set up the Betamax to tape the Smurfs. Kids just ended up watching the Smurfs the way that drunk people end up eating at Denny’s. Nobody does that on purpose either.

But live-action Smurf-themed porn … that’s something to SEE.

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