Kirk Hiner's

"When thinking differently just isn't different enough."

Lovely SPAM, Wonderful SPAM

By Kirk Hiner

Throughout my life, people have found me odd. I don't find that insulting, but I also don't wear it as a badge of honor. I guess I just don't so much care; it all seems perfectly natural to me. For instance, when in high school I would eat Twinkies wrapped in cheese and dipped in ketchup, it wasn't done for a cheap laugh but because...well...there was the Twinkie, there was the cheese, and there was the ketchup. What else was I going to do with them?

It's the same with my telephone ettiquete. I firmly believe that just because the phone's ringing, that doesn't mean I have to answer it. I don't mean just letting it ring until the machine picks it up or until I check the caller ID to see who it is. I don't have caller ID, and I usually leave the machine off. I don't mean to sound superior, but I know that nine times out of ten, whatever I'm doing when the phone rings will interest me more than whatever the person on the other end has to say. This is my problem with caller ID and those who screen their calls with their answering machine. To me, the most interesting thing about phone calls is finding out who's calling. Is it mom? Is it my fiancee? Is it the police again? Who knows? Maybe I've won something. Maybe it's a wrong number. But after that mystery is solved, the fun's gone.

Those I know with caller ID say they got it so they could screen solicitation calls. This is not a good strategy, no moreso than pretending you're not Mr. Jackson, when you are, and that he's out mowing the lawn, when you're not, and that he'll be back inside in an hour, which you won't be. If you want the solicitor to call you every week for the next six months, keep up that lie which they don't believe anyway. If you want them to stop calling, at least for a while, say you're not interested, listen to them whine for a little bit, say it again, then hang up.

Likewise, I'm not so much bothered by SPAM. Despite receiving an average of around 100 uncsolicited ads a week (the price of leaving my e-mail address scattered about Applelinks.com, I presume), I just can't seem to get too upset about it. I mean, it sure beats the dozens of flyers I get in the mail each week. At least SPAM isn't a waste of our natural resources, and it's much easier to click the trash can icon than it is to walk over to a real one and drop in the junk mail.

Honestly, as perverse as it may sound, I'm usually entertained by the SPAM I receive. Not by their content, of course; I rarely read them. Rather, I get a kick out of finding out which of my PowerMail filters work the best. So far, screening e-mail subjects for the words "teen," "boss," and "Viagara" seems to be hauling in the biggest catches...well, next to my Hotmail filter. Want to eliminate your SPAM count by half? Block any and all messages from Hotmail and Yahoo. Sure, you may have some friends who use them, but do you know what? You don't need those kinds of friends. You're better off without them. Toss them out like yesterday's fish and get real friends with real ISPs and trampolines. Worked for me.

The other aspect of SPAM that entertains me are the subjects. For instance, the e-mail I received that first prompted this article was entitled, "Hey HINER - XXX pics of Sarah Michelle Gellar." First of all, I haven't been called Hiner since college, and there really wasn't a whole lot of Miss Gellar, nude or otherwise, to be seen in those days. Secondly, those close enough to call me HINER also know I really don't have the stomach for XXX pictures of anyone, especially women who have never actually taken XXX pictures. So nope, no sale there. Didn't even get in the door.

With a title like "OPPORTUNITY IS KNOCKING," however, the next one did. Sadly, the door was quickly slammed in its face when the sales pitch started with, "Dear Millionair..." Now, I learned during my five year stint in the business world in New York City that the richer the executive, the more moronic his writing. But even the dumbest of execs have secretaries who use a spell check, so no. Once again, no sale.

For a long while, my favorite solicitation subject was simply "." I thought they deserved a few moments of my time just for being so obscure, so you can imagine my disappointment upon learning they were selling a "...product that produces 50% of all money made on the internet." Okay, if I was interested in the product that produces 50% of all money made on the internet, I would've paid more attention to the XXX pics of Sarah Michelle Gellar.

I've heard many people complain of all the porn solicitations they receive, confused about how they got on these mailing lists. I explain to them first that you don't have to visit porn sites to get porn e-mail solicitations any more than you have to be in said industry to have people hit on you in bars; you just have to leave your e-mail address somewhere online. Like the FBI, the porn mongers will find you. But I've found the "business opportunity" e-mails to be much more bothersome than the porn ones anyway. They're always so ambiguous; "What are you looking for?" "Please collect your check." "You can do this." At least when you get an e-mail titled, "Wet hot teen wants you to *** on her ****," you know what you're getting. Say what you will about pornography, at least it's honest.

Businesses, on the other hand, they're downright sneaky. A couple weeks ago, I got an e-mail titled, "I need your phone number to help your debt problem." Okay, sure. And while I'm at it, here's my social security number, credit cards, mother's maiden name, and bank account numbers. I even got one titled "Totally risk free!" that went on to request my full contact information. This is obviously some bizarre usage of the phrase "Risk free" of which I wasn't previously aware.

I also wasn't aware I'd requested so much information online. I'm always getting e-mails telling me, "Here's the information you requested." And poor me, my memory is apparently so bad that I really assume I did ask for stock tips, info on how to make $5,000 a week at home, or deals on satellite dishes. I must've purchased five or six satellite dishes before another helpful e-mail taught me, "How to get TOTALLY FREE cable...perfectly legal." No doubt these proprietors got their engineering degrees from "...any major University. No tuition to pay, no classes to attend."

Of them all, however, the award for cleverness would have to go my horny friend Misty. Misty wanted to contact me so badly that she pulled my address from Applelinks and sent an e-mail to a bad address from my mine. This caused the message to bounce back to my server as undeliverable. The supposed unreachable address looked real enough; it was a bellsouth.net account, and the bogus e-mail was simply titled "Thank you." Okay, I've certainly thanked people before, but had I thanked anyone recently? Better open that attachment and find out, right?

Here is the full text of the returned, attached e-mail that I had supposedly sent to someone at Bellsouth, with my comments interspersed in brackets.

I Miss You SOOOOOOOOO Bad!!!! [Already this is no one I know, as all of my friends know by now the proper usage of adjectives and an adverbs.]

I am sitting here at work thinking about how good it would feel to have your hands sliding up my skirt.(I don't have any panties on!) I'm so horny right now! [I don't pretend to know everything about my female friends, but I'm fairly confident in the belief that all of them wear panties to work. If they were to forget them, I'm quite certain they would be too embarrassed to be tell me about it.]

I just remembered. I have my digital camera with me. I'll take some pictures for you to look at. Hehe. I'm so bad today. [Sadly, most of my friends have jobs that don't afford them the time to take photos of their naughty bits and e-mail them to me. Those who do probably have Hotmail accounts, so they never make it to my in box anyway.]

Click here to see the pics I took for you bad boy. [Hey, wait a minute. I thought she said she "just remembered" about the camera, and yet she already has pictures to send me? Something fishy's going on here...]

Click here if you don't want any more naughty letters from me. [Hmm..."click here" as opposed to "send me a reply" or give me a call. What's up, Misty? Phone dead again?]

Do ya soon! [Hey, horny and clever. Can't beat that!]

Misty

Sadly, Misty did not hear back from me. Even before I'd learned to walk, I knew better than to follow hyperlinks or respond to e-mails from horny women (at least I assume she is a woman) named Misty. Oh, and before you all think I'm a total moron; yes, I realize that Misty, like Fudrucker or Houlihan of restaurant fame--or even Britney Spears or O-Town, for that matter--are all entities made up by some corporation, their only purpose to personify the product.

And speaking of products, here's my all-time favorite solicitation e-mail subject:

Intensify pleasure and orgasms in SEX!

Ah, good. See? Now that's helpful, because I'm tired of getting e-mails that only offer to help me intensify pleasure and orgasms in mowing the lawn or baking some snickerdoodles.

Actually, to be honest, I've never baked snickerdoodles. Maybe it's time I gave Misty a call.

.