Evidence that Fran doesn't press Delete before she's thought about whether the junk mail provides blog material

Junk email today:

Sender: safiaf arkashaal baraasi
Message: PLEASE DO CAREFULLY READ MY MAIL

Do you know what, safiaf?  I don't think I will CAREFULLY READ your MAIL.  For these reasons.

1. There are no capital letters on your names.  If you don't think you're important enough for capitals, I don't see why I should have a sense of urgency about getting to know you either.  Or maybe you don't actually know that you need capitals.  In which case, I'm unlikely to give your MAIL much credence either.  Or maybe you were in so much of a hurry to con me that you forgot the capitals altogether.  Bad move.  If intending to con, do so at a measured pace.  No one believes a rusher.

2. You are worryingly inconsistent.  No capitals on the names.  Then a shouty message, all in capitals.  If there's one thing I hate, safiaf, it's inconsistency.  You see, if I were going to READ your MAIL and acquiesce to your demands, whatever they be, I would want to know that I was acquiescing to someone who was as solid, reliable and consistent as a healthy stool sample.  So you've shot yourself in the foot there, sunshine.

3. Your PLEASE DO CAREFULLY READ MY MAIL reminds me of the patronising woman on the SouthWest Trains tannoy who says, 'Please DO remember to take all your luggage with you' as though all passengers were imbeciles who left their bags behind on a whim just to see how it felt.  Also, to say DO and then to say CAREFULLY makes me suspicious.  You really, really, really want me to read your email, don't you, but the more you try to persuade me using suspect grammatical constructions, the more likely I am to really, really, really press delete and go and put the kettle on.

4. You have ended up in my junk mail.  This, safiaf, is a really bad sign.  Even my computer, which is inanimate, does not trust you.  I trust my computer, which has no name at all, more than I trust you, who does just have a name, but has a list of 'a' vowel sounds so long I don't believe you.  I've not made that many 'a' sounds since I was last at the doctor's and he wanted to look at my throat.

Bog off,  safiaf arkashaal baraasi.  Consider yourself deleted.

safiaf wasn't so easily put off

Comments

  1. Steve7/11/11 13:33

    In a lab somewhere is a team of monkeys let loose on computer keyboards. One day they are going to produce the complete works of Shakespeare. More commonly they end up sending spam email.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Bruno Laliberté7/11/11 13:39

    I also enjoy spammers and occasionally discuss them on my blog. They're always good for a laugh...
    And NO!!
    I'm not a spammer and you really don't need to read anything [carefully] from me.
    Just passing by from Sepia Saturday.
    :)~
    HUGZ

    ReplyDelete
  3. stephen Hayes7/11/11 13:50

    I don't read spam. I want to take this opportunity to announce I won't be leaving any more comments because I've just won 50 million dollars in the Nigerian Lottery and I'll be too rich to bother. Just kidding.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Bruno Laliberté7/11/11 14:26

    Oops!!
    just for clarity purpose:
    I found you via Alan's blogs,
    not his Sepia blog...

    Good luck to Stephen for his $50 million...
    (oh boy!!)
    HUGZ

    ReplyDelete
  5. SmitoniusAndSonata7/11/11 15:03

    I'm jealous . I don't get much in the way of spam , just the occasional offer to enhance body parts I don't have . People like safiaf don't seem to see me as a potential business partner . It's a shame . I expect their office Christmas party is a blast , with champagne and everything ......
    What can I do to improve my online image ?

    ReplyDelete
  6. fishducky7/11/11 16:44

    To Stephen--Lucky us!! We've both won the Nigerian lottery. (Althogh I have to confess I wasn't nearly as excited as I used to be--this being the 17th time, & all.)

    ReplyDelete
  7. ted and bunny8/11/11 01:30

    my spam seems to consist of rather pious church people who are collecting money in order to create a better sound for Sunday services...they all want me to send money towards a Larger Organ...

    ReplyDelete
  8. Diana Studer8/11/11 12:18

    Have you noticed, when you go to the spam folder, which even the nameless computer won't eat - that the ad bar runs yeractual spam recipes? All those jokes about frying any spam here?!

    ReplyDelete
  9. Carolina9/11/11 02:32

    I don't even get spam about enhancing body parts that I don't have. And I've never ever won anything. What's wrong with me?

    ReplyDelete
  10. fiftyodd9/11/11 09:00

    Lovely blog. Yes, I too have won the Nigerian lottery - here in Cape Town, South AFrica! Heh, I was born in Coventry, Warwickshire. Small world.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Diana Studer9/11/11 12:57

    got snagged by fiftyodd, I live 2 hours away from Cape Town. Neighbours huh?

    Fran I do like to invent words, but I can't claim mouse over. I read that somewhere in Googleland.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Reasons why Fran is desperately in search of earbuds

Image
My try-to-get-fitter walk in the fields today was a silent one. I usually listen to the radio through earphones but have lost one of the soft earbuds and nothing spoils a walk more than having hard plastic nudging up against your fragile tympanic membrane. The BBC's  'Woman's Hour' is a brilliant programme but loyalty has limits.  It was disconcerting, walking in silence. Listening to radio distracts from the disturbing reality that my legs are propelling me in forward motion because, if I think too hard about this, I frighten myself.  Today, while walking, I had to listen to my own thoughts.  And now I've listened to my own thoughts, I remember why I like radio better. The inside of my head is like a wastepaper basket.   Be grateful that I only offer you a brief excerpt.  Oh, look, that bird is - / Where did I put that mark scheme. I'll need it for - / My shoes are getting muddier./ Maybe mash with the fish tonight / really muddy / The trees are definitely more
Read more

Evidence that we don't always have the right words to say at the right time

Image
The Younger Daughter was reminding me about how, when she's just accidentally burned herself and is hopping up and down in the kitchen, my instant response is 'Careful, that's hot!'  Or when she's just tripped up a step, that's the time I choose to say, 'Watch yourself!' That's me.  Eager to be helpful.  Caring Parent of the Year. But it's instinctive, isn't it, to say something completely inadequate in the face of crisis?  It's a strange feature of the way we communicate sympathy.  What about the following situations ... When someone's fallen over and is lying flat on their face, we say: 'Oh, no, are you o kay ?' When someone's just set off down the road to the shops, then lets themselves back in five minutes later, cursing and stomping, we say: 'Did you forget something?' When we come across someone sobbing their hearts out .... ..... we say things like, 'Is something the matter?' To the
Read more

More evidence that the wrong consonant makes all the difference to a famous book title

Image
More typo-lit, one of my favourite genres: To Kilt a Mockingbird - a tale set in the Southern States of America in which a young family move into the area from Aberdeen.  The children are found dressing the local wildlife in tartan and have to be taught that clothing innocent victims in bright material is not acceptable.  The little girl (Scot) says, 'Shoot, Pa, that's the darndest thing I ever did hear!' and there is surprise all round at her adoption of the local dialect in such a short time. To Kiln a Mockingbird - a tale set in the Southern States of America in which a wise father teaches his children that to put an innocent bird into a red-hot oven, converting it into an attractive china piece for the kitchen, was bound to upset Aunt Alexandra when given as a birthday present, and if this was indeed their intention, they deserved a whipping.   They don't get the whipping; the father can't stand Aunt Alexandra either. To Bill a Mockingbird - a tale set
Read more