Behold, The Inept Spellcaster Spam

They will never take a hint and just stop. They will never decide to just go find an honest way to make a living. No, their default setting is to annoy the rest of the world with their tactics and techniques. I speak, of course, of the vile, reprehensible lot known as homo sapiens spammeritis irritatingus, otherwise known as internet scammers and spammers. They infest our blog comments with spam for crap we don't care about. They send random emails with a too good to be true proposal (because it's not true). The following came through as spam for my blog recently, the old reliable spellcaster spam.

Hello, I want to testify to the general public how my relationship was restored back by the great powers of Dr. Able after three months of loneliness, my ex-lover called me after my contact with Dr Able that he wants us to come back and start a good home, now we are happily married. All thanks to Dr. Able for his wonderful spiritual help. You can contact him for any relationship challenges or any solution you may need, Good Luck. 

That's actually shorter than the usual spellcaster spam comment. These usually go into great detail and personal agony about the cheating spouse and the endless nights of tears and despair. Not quite in this case. Short and to the point. But still, some of the usual signs of spellcaster spam telltales. Like "testify to the general public", which honestly, we don't care about, as this isn't a trial. Though the people sending this crap on behalf of the totally fake Doctor Able should be put on trial. The sentence structure that doesn't sound genuine.  And capitalizing words that don't need it. In short, pure spam. 

It might be my fault. I write posts about spellcaster spam, and I'm going to get spam responses to it. But that doesn't excuse these idiots from sending this crap. And that's what it is. Crap. And it should be treated as such.

Dear spammer, it's about this point where I suggest awful punishments and ways to die for you. It's not as if you contribute anything to society, and nobody's going to miss you.

I would suggest that what you deserve is to be buried alive.

Yeah, that's it. The sort of situation that has you screaming before you run out of air, and going out of your mind. 

Taking The Express Bronco To Hell

The following is my response to the recent death of someone who really, really, really had it long overdue.

Deceased And Disgraced Former Football Player and Actor Reported To Be Complaining About His Place In Hell

Los Angeles (AP). It is a truth universally acknowledged that some people only do the world any good by no longer being in it. Perhaps that's the way Jane Austen might put it these days. Earlier this month, O.J. Simpson, the former football player turned ad pitchman turned occasional actor turned murder suspect turned general dirtbag, died of cancer at the age of 76. The world is now left with him gone- which is not a bad thing.

Simpson earned notoriety in the wake of the murder of his ex-wife Nicole and her friend Ron Goldman, ending up arrested (after a slow Bronco police chase that captivated millions) for murder and put on trial in what was billed as the Trial of the Century, which would a surprise to anyone who participated in the Nuremberg Trials, which would actually qualify for that title. 

What became a months-long ordeal of constant coverage, grandstanding by everyone involved, and general nonsense ended with Simpson acquitted, but later found responsible in a civil case. Simpson's life afterwards was chaotic, including prison time for a botched robbery and kidnapping, years of being shunned by society, and regular outbursts at multiple people, including this reporter.

Simpson was cremated, with no apparent plans for a public memorial or burial, despite rumours. In the wake of his death, there wasn't a lot of sympathy for the man, considering the general state of disregard he was held in. In fact, comedians and editorial cartoonists skewered him, while members of the public made a point of ridiculing him through memes on social media. This is the sort of thing that happens to you when you've done the sort of things he's done.

This reporter has previous history with Simpson, having had been dispatched to multiple Super Bowls down through the years, and even back in the day when Simpson was in prison. Simpson made repeated violent death threats towards this reporter, losing his temper just at the sight of this reporter. This reporter is not required to be objective, as this reporter is, at this point, more of a columnist, and besides which, the readers like this reporter.

And so this reporter freely says the following: rot in hell, O.J., rot in Hell.

Speaking of which- this reporter heard from the fellow in charge in that particular place. Satan, aka the Prince of Darkness, has occasionally spoken remotely to reporters about subjects like the state of Bill Belichicks' soul. This week, Satan advised reporters that Simpson was not having a pleasant time in Hell. "Yes, we've got him stretched out on a table every morning and chopped up into pieces by a cranky demon with a rusty knife. I thought that fitting. The pieces gradually reassemble in the afternoon. It's very painful. Anyway, that's going to continue each day for the next six million years. Then we'll make it more painful."

The Devil paused before continuing. "He broke in the first five minutes. Full confession to everything.  Complaining constantly about how he's being treated down here. For a guy who tried to play the tough guy, he's really a gutless wonder. Very gutless by ten AM, in more than one way."

In the opinion of this reporter, it couldn't have happened to a more deserving person.

A Day In The Life Of A Leafs Fan

There are three certainties in life: death, taxes... and the Toronto Maple Leafs screwing up when it really counts. The NHL playoffs are coming, and the Leafs are middle of the pack in their division. Despite over half a century of experience in failure, Leafs Nation continues to hope and dream, no matter how many times their hearts get stomped on. It's been awhile since I've featured the point of view of this rabid Leafs fan, but it was overdue.

10:38 AM. At work. Bidin' my time til I'm outta here for the day. Big game tonight. Florida is in town, and we gotta pick up some wins. Season's nearly done.

12:05 PM. Shootin' the breeze with the guys around the coffee maker about how great it's gonna be when our boys finally win the Cup and victory's in hand. It'll be great, boys. We been screwed over for way too ****in' long.

3:37 PM. Out of here for the day. It's about time, I hate havin' to rush on a game day, and the Leafs are what I live for. 

Leafs Nation, baby!

4:12 PM. Gettin' home. Okay, gotta get set. Get in the frame of mind to cheer for our boys as they demolish the Panthers tonight. 

4:23 PM. Hockey jersey on, watchin' and listenin' to my guy Don Cherry talkin' on one of the Rock 'em Sock 'em videos. Biggest mistake they ever made was takin' him off the air. Man's a ****in' genius. 

No pain, boys, no pain! Let's tear 'em apart tonight, you hear me???

5:31 PM. Harry and Jack turn up at the door. Hey, boys! Excited for the big game or what?

5:45 PM. Me and Jack and Harry talk it over with some brewskis. Yeah, the season hasn't quite been goin' the way we want it, but that's okay. Because we're gonna come back big time in the playoffs and beat the livin' crap outta everyone, and we're gonna take the Cup. Because it belongs to us.

Go Leafs go!!!!

6:10 PM. Headin' out and grabbin' a cab to go down to see the game. Big night tonight, boys.

6:35 PM. Turnin' up at Maple Leaf Square. 'Cause it's an away game. But Leafs Nation... they're all here tonight, baby! They can feel that the boys are gonna win big time. 

7:02 PM. Talkin' it over with Harry and Jack and all the other Leafs fans while the game's bein' shown on the big screens around the square.

Go Leafs go!!!! Am I right, boys?

7:05 PM. Time for the anthem. O, Maple Leafs, the true north strong and Leaf!

7:07 PM. Puck's gettin' dropped, here we go.....

Go Leafs go!!!!!

7:10 PM. How the **** is Florida three goals ahead of us?

7:51 PM. Our boys are down seventeen to zero. This is ****in' humiliatin'. The only way it could be ****in' worse is if it was Montreal doin' this to us. Or Boston. Or Ottawa.

8:17 PM. C'mon, Woll! You've let twenty five goals in tonight! Are you ****in' blind????

Defense, boys, defense!!!!

8:45 PM. We're in the third. The boys haven't scored once tonight. Meanwhile the Panthers have kept putting the puck in our net over and over again.

Thirty two to zero. 

Boys? This is intolerable.

9:20 PM. Game over, we're done. Thirty five to zero for Florida. Our boys look dejected skatin' off the ice.

Boys? Let's get outta here.

9:35 PM. Me and Harry and Jack get to our favourite bar. Everyone looks as down as we do.

Lou! Let's get some beers here! Anything to make the pain go away, know what I mean?

10:05 PM. The boys and me are gettin' good and wasted, wonderin' where it all went wrong. Does God hate us? Is there a voodoo curse out there somewhere? Why can't we just be happy?

11:48 PM. Pretty much in the bag by now. But me and Harry and Jack are agreed. The boys are gonna come back big next game. And they're gonna make us all forget nights like this. Because they're the best. And nobody nowhere can say different.

Okay, boys, we gotta get outta here. Work again tomorrow.

12:02 AM. Me and Harry and Jack go our separate ways. Them off to their places, me to mine. Hey, cabbie, get me home fast. I might have to throw up.

12:35 AM. Collapsin' into bed. Gonna have a massive ****in' hangover tomorrow, lemme tell you.

But it's worth it. Because Leafs Nation will live and die true blue, baby....

Try Not To Look At That Eclipse

An eclipse is coming tomorrow, taking a path along a big stretch of North America, including my area. I decided to do an image blog on the occasion. I find it odd that in this day and age, people are still treating what is a regular event, astronomically speaking, like it's the end of the world. But then people, in my experience, are very, very stupid.