Recently with the help of the good folks at Turn the Tide, I've managed to cut down the amount of junk mail I receive. But now I find I'm inundated with something even more annoying — e-junk. Some people call it "Spam" but I see no reason to disparage such a fine food-like product. E-junk is more descriptive (e-crap would be even more to the point but this is a family newsletter.) When I get junk mail, I simply toss it into the recycling bin and — after encasing my recycling bin in its protective haz-mat casing and microwaving my hands in case of anthrax exposure — I forget about it. But it's not so easy to get rid of e-junk. Because of the age (prehistoric) and speed (reverse) of my computer it actually takes considerable time to receive and then trash my daily haul of e-junk.

Yesterday I received 13 separate pieces of e-junk. Among them was a way to make thousands of dollars a week from home (telemarketing or prostitution, I'm guessing); a drug guaranteed to increase my penis by a full 3 inches (that would be impressive considering I'm a woman); and a mortgage offer from a financial institution that is so darn giddy they're just giving money away (now that's the kind of financial institution that I want to do business with). And I'll admit it was tough to turn some of these incredible offers down. Really tough since most of these e-mails automatically connected me to their web site-even as I tried to delete them — thus throwing my ancient computer into a temporary state of rigor mortis. 

But it's not just the e-junk from total strangers that drives me crazy. It's the e-junk that comes from well-meaning friends and family members that gets to me. (Note to my mother-in-law: this does NOT refer to you. Note to my mother: ... ahem ... ) You know the kind. It always starts off with "I don't usually forward these things but ... " Or the e-petition that gets forwarded to everyone in someone's address book. Does anyone really think that a man who stole the presidency could give a hoot about a virtual petition? (Does anyone think he could read it?) 

And then there's the four-letter word of e-mailing: L-I-S-T! I once signed on to the crew of a three day walk-a-thon events and what did I get for my good deed? I immediately got put on an e-mail list. I was still young and un-jaded in the world of e-mail back then, and I earnestly looked forward to learning about my fellow crew-mates and the task ahead. Instead, I was repeatedly bombarded with hordes of ridiculous e-mails. If one of my crew mates thought something was funny, clever, or-apparently-contained a vowel, it got sent to everyone on the list. And if another one of my crew mates wanted to comment on that e-mail (and they all wanted to comment on that e-mail) then that got sent along to everyone on the list. And so on and so on and so on ... until I was forced to turn off my computer and take up drinking. 

It occurred to me that my crew might be part of a secret experiment testing the hypothesis that monkeys left at computers long enough will eventually begin to send e-mails. I never did find out though. The thought of actually having to spend three days with this crew so frightened me that I dropped out of the event. My crew-mates didn't seem to notice. A year later, I'm still getting their e-chatter. Oh look — that has a vowel!

Now, forward this to everyone in your address book.

Send your friends a link to this page.

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