BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

So I have this widget…

Yeah, I know, I have all kinds of widgets. But this one is special. It tells me how much I am desired. Okay… Well, not exactly. Sorta kinda though. Yes, I am talking about the Eventful Demands Widget on my website. That dealy whopper on the right sidebar of mrsellars.com that allows you to click and say “Hey, Murv, come to my city please!”

It really is kind of a neat deal, although folks really don’t use it that much. I think that last time I checked I had something on the order of 89 “Demands” for my presence in various cities around the country.

But then, I happened to take a look today (Well, on the today I actually wrote this entry which is not exactly yesterday… In fact, it’s more like a couple of weeks ago…)

So anyway, I had a look because I was feeling a bit unloved and wanted to see if you folks out there still really wanted me or not.

Well… If I can believe what I’m seeing, it seems that you do.

Three Million Plus… For once I’ve got more adoring fans than Evil Kat, which seems almost impossible…

And I mean… Well… Damn… With “demand” stats like that one would think my books should be flying off the shelves kind of like happens for “Castle”.  And, on top of that I should probably have a couple or three movie deals in the works, ya’know?

Maybe I should go sit by the phone and wait for Spielberg to call. Although, if someone is going to produce and direct a movie based on my books, I’d really prefer Michael Mann… Hey, with better than 3 Million adoring and demanding fans, I think I can afford to be choosy. 😉

More to come…

Murv

Usually when you find me talking about SPAM, I’m babbling (and drooling) about my favorite pressed, canned, pork leavin’s. That lovely ham-like, mystery protein that can be found in any market, lasts a little bit of forever, and is considered a near delicacy in Howarya (Hawaii).

I’ve never really had a desire to visit that little cluster of islands, to be honest, however, I do happen to like pineapple, coconut, and SPAM, so maybe I should give it a go sometime…

But, I digress…

This particular time I am not here to drool about food. I’m actually going to talk about what everyone under the age of 30 thinks of when they hear the word SPAM… Yes. Unwanted email solicitations from somewhere out in the ether.

Having spent many years as an Internet Systems Admin for an ISP, I am intimately familiar with the electronic version of SPAM. Of course, even if I hadn’t had such a job I’d still be familiar with the stuff because anyone with an email account is deluged with it daily. SPAM filters try their best to weed it out, but the crafty little beggars behind SPAM weasel their way around the virtual assassins whenever possible.

Now, the thing is I can actually understand SPAM to some extent. It’s just like junk mail that shows up in your mailbox in front of your house. Stuff addressed to Resident, or Occupant… You know, the things you give to the 4 year old who is desperate to receive some mail just like mommy and daddy. The thing about said SPAM/Junk Mail, however, is that it has an overarching purpose. It is trying to sell you something.

Siding…

Windows…

A really bitchin’ set of shelf speakers…

An amazing device that when attached to an average canister vacuum will ionize (or deionize, whichever is necessary) the air in your home automatically, making it smell springtime fresh and adding 10 years to your life…

Know what I mean? It gives you a sales pitch, pretty pictures, and an order blank… Sometimes even a coupon for 50% off on orders of two or more.

Over the years, the electronic cousin of Junk Mail, that being SPAM, has done the same thing, albeit for different products. In the case of email junk I am usually getting an offer for a Russian Bride, a breast enlargement, Acai Berry Juice, or Generic Viagra.

Annoying, yes. I mean, after all, E K would kill me if I brought home a Russian Bride (not to mention the bigamy consequences)…

I don’t need a breast enlargement – (hell, I had gynecomastia reduction surgery a few years ago, so why would I want to reverse it? I’m not made of money, ya’know, and besides, it hurt like hell… And not the good kind of hurt either if you know what I mean – wink wink nudge nudge- Even E K felt sorry for me.)

I can get Acai Berry at the supermarket. It even comes mixed with Apple Sauce – how cool is that? AND, I have coupons…

Finally, Wee Willie Winky has no trouble saluting whenever instructed to do so by the Evil Redhead. At least, at this point in my life he doesn’t. E K sees to that, thank you very much… But, if I end up needing the little blue pill later down the road, I will consult my physician and go see my local pharmacist.

Still, as annoying as it is, it all makes sense. Color pictures, provocative wording, and even coupons… It’s a sales tactic… It’s direct marketing.

I get it… Really, I do.

Or I did, up until just the other day. I think maybe this has something to do with the SPAMmers tactics in order to get around the filters, but here’s the thing – if the SPAM doesn’t make any sense, what good is it?

For example, the particular email that showed up in my inbox the other day and proceeded to spark this particular missive is as follows:

Subject:  AAA Christian sex Premature Ejaculation Cure

Body:  A Christian sex Premature Ejaculation Cukrre www. via65. com.
When Aliens tAtack Pormotional Trailer

This was followed by another email:

Subject:  Female Orgasms From a Woman - 11 Thing She Does When You
Are Not Lookiing

Body:  Female Orgasms From a Woman -- 1 Thilng She Does When You
Are Not Looking
www. via65. com. Woman Trying to Cheecat on Drug Test Asks Clerk to
Microwave Prosthetic penis Device

Can any of you tell me what I’m supposed to be buying here? I mean, I sure as hell have no clue…

Oh well, I guess it’s just one of those things, and I’ll just have to accept it.

Besides, I’m already late for my Christian Drug Test at the theater where they are showing the promotional trailer for the new Alien Attack movie, and I still have to microwave my prosthetic penis device, otherwise I won’t be able to prematurely ejaculate on the cheat sheet when the clerk isn’t looking.

You know… I think I’ll go make myself a Spam Sammich…

More to come…

Murv