the ebbs and flows of spam

I'm sorry to say, I haven't been keeping as close track of the rises and falls of spam types as I used to do in days of yore.

In recent weeks, a rise in "strait boyz get curioz" has cropped up at rather refreshing intervals, beating "britny and pariss hilton with barn animals" and "grow your breasts 2 cup sizes!!!1!" with a big phallical stick, and no, I didn't mean that the way that sounded, though I think I read that as a spam header once. I have to admit, I'm wondering when my spam profile shifted, since the viagra ads have taken a serious upswing, to the point where they are outnumbering even the poor Catholic schoolgirls and their desire to be spanked for their naughtiness. Who have inexplicably dropped of the radar. Huh. And here I thought that one would never end, especially after that December run of four a day. Happy holiday cheer and all.

It's kinda weird. Mortgages are at all all-time low, the offer for herbal ecstacy seems to be down to less than twice a week, and no one is offering me cosmetic surgery or oral pleasure these days. I mean, don't get me wrong here, it's not like I'm mourning the days when I was *promised* multiple orgasms or unlikely Bahaman cruises or the hopes of FFF breasts, but still.

I'm no longer offered business partnerships in shady enterprises involving the Samoan islands and bank notes, no one is telling me anything about spiritual enlightenment through herbal drugs, and depressingly, I haven't been offered a larger penis in *weeks*, but a lot of people would love to point out the drunk frat boys offering their asses for alcohol.

You'd almost think someone was reading my webpage. *marvels* Go spammers! I'm officially impressed. I mean, disgusted and appalled and sickened too, and all that. Sickened. But nice job!

In theory, I should have my sense of humor back. I'd like to thank rhiannonhero for vidding "Acid", which pretty much required me to download the song, memorize, and then sing, off-key of course, as often as possible. It helps if I keep my headphones on. She and altricial are responsible for most of my musical downloads recently. It's like the most depressing playlist in history.

I have this insane urge to do karaoke right now. It's kinda scary.

I'm looking at cars and digital cameras. The car to choose is much easier, all things considered--there are entire books devoted to telling you what sort of vehicle you should own, and I'm leaning toward a 2001 Kia Sportage right now. Oh, not for any *good* reason, either. Oh no. Because it's *so cute* and there's this fabulous deal on one in San Antonio. I printed it out and taking copies to Dad and Uncle the Mechanic, since I'm not a complete idiot and I'm letting them do the final approval stuff. Well, assuming the bank loans me money. I mean, these days, anything could happen.

The camera thing is more tricky. I have no idea what is actually practical. Asking Grandfather is just a bad idea. He's a professional, so his idea of necessary and mine are like, polar opposites. His idea of use and quality minimums start around the thousand dollar range for *basics*. I printed out a ton of stuff from Dell--all I want is functional, interfacing decently with my computer, and easy to fit in my backpack. Hardy would be good, too. And works. And won't cost as much as tuition.