I Just Couldn't Resist

Oh, come on. Dig deep down, inside. I’m sure somewhere down there you can find the strength to NOT send me that e-mail! I know I’m not the only one who has ever written about the plight that is “junk e-mail” (aka: SPAM), but I’m going to write this anyway.

Forwarded to EVERYONE’S inbox (usually multiply times) for no better reason than, “I have nothing better to do than read this drivel, and forward it on to you.” After all, it’s so easy to hit that FORWARD button.

I’m going to estimate that 95 billion hours (yes, that’s billion with a “B”) are wasted reading junk e-mail. No, this isn’t a rant, rather an introspection. I just wonder what makes people do the things they do?

But it’s so cute!

Sure we all fall prey in a weak moment, and get emotional over a story about someone’s kitten getting caught up in a tornado and carried over three states before being gently returned to earth then found by some sweet 94-year-old woman who vows to return the kitten to its rightful owner if it’s the last thing she ever does (and could very well be), finally making good on that vow some 48 days later. I’m getting teary-eyed right now, thinking about it. Then we just have to share that sweet story with someone else! Right?

Please don’t do that.

My wife, who rarely forwards junk e-mail, did so on one occasion…one of those sappy stories, that caught her off guard. And in a momentary lapse of better judgment, she forwarded it. One lady replied back, saying she did not except that kind of e-mail, and would appreciate it if we wouldn’t send her any more.

Well, I’m sure we’ve all wanted to do that at one time or another. Okay, no harm done. We understand. No more junk e-mail for you (that is if we choose to ever send another one). End of story, right? Well, not quite. Now that lady ONLY sends us junk email. Seriously? Hey, I’ve got no problem when someone doesn’t want to receive this junk, but don’t assume we love getting it from you just because we sent you one. Capeesh?

A chain is only as strong…

Then there’s those pleas to “keep this prayer wheel going”, or “send this to EVERYONE in your address book”, and my favorite “lets clog the President’s inbox!”

Come on people. Do you really believe the empty threats from others when they say bad things will happen to you if you don’t forward this? News flash: Nothing bad will happen if you simply hit delete!

They’re gonna do what?

One last thing. If you read about Congress approving a bill that will tax every e-mail you send (which may not be a bad thing in light of what I’ve written here), or that illegal aliens will receive Social Security benefits, or that Mars will soon come into orbit with Earth so close you could jump over to it, then do me a favor and go to one of the urban-myth websites and see if that e-mail, that’s warning us to “take up our guns, for Armageddon is near”, has any validity at all.

The world would be a much better place if people would just do a little bit of research, and not take EVERYTHING they read at face value.

Couldn’t resist sending you this…

After sitting here reading this, I’m sure you know what prompted this post. Yes, I started writing it right after I received this e-mail, from a coworker.

Women Are Evil By Nature…

A woman went up to the bar in a quiet rural pub. She gestured alluringly to the bartender who approached her immediately. She seductively signaled that he should bring his face closer to hers. As he did, she gently caressed his full beard.

“Are you the manager?” she asked, softly stroking his face with both hands.

“Actually, no,” he replied.

“Can you get him for me? I need to speak to him,” she said, running her hands beyond his beard and into his hair.

“I’m afraid I can’t,” breathed the bartender. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes. I need you to give him a message,” she continued, running her forefinger across the bartender’s lip and slyly popping a couple of her fingers into his mouth and allowing him to suck them gently.

“What should I tell him?” the bartender managed to say.

“Tell him,” she whispered, “There’s no toilet paper, hand soap, or paper towels in the ladies room.”