I Do Not Like Green Eggs And Spam

 

If they're not trying to scam you with get rich quick schemes from Cancer Widows, Unscrupulous Bankers, Former Cabinet Ministers, and Beloved Former Tyrants (yes, the capitalization is intentional), they do the other route and spam you with crap you don't need in your email or your blog comments. I've been getting a lot of spam lately in one of my email accounts, to the point where I wonder if blocking them means they're actually blocked, because I swear, I keep seeing the same emails coming up. Or there's this bit of nonsense, which tried to get posted in a post on the Easter Bunny of all things.

The Rothschild family is a wealthy Ashkenazi Jewish family originally from Frankfurt that rose to prominence with Mayer Amschel Rothschild (1744–1812).

TIME TO SEE THE LIGHT IS NOW!!!
Don't lose this life opportunity. 
Join ILLUMINATI and achieve
WEALTH, FAME AND POWERS.
Remember you are human for a purpose therefore serve goodness and strive for the benefit of your species and you'll be rewarded for your stewardship, and gain financial freedom today.

And that crap was followed by a series of links that I did not copy and paste, as I'd rather not give them any site traffic, but which featured discussions like joining the illuminati, the Moldova illuminati, and the Romanian illuminati. Because going down that particular rabbit hole sounds like a swell idea. It's really not.

There is no Illuminati. There once was, but there's not anymore, as much as the conspiracy theorists would like you to believe. The Freemasons exist, but then again, they're weirdos. And the Rothschilds exist, but then again, their patriarch is the model for Monty Burns.

No, the Illuminati in this case is nothing more than an attempt to get some poor sucker actually believing it's a good idea to click on those links. At which time, someone at the far end of a long line of nonsense emails starts data mining you and trying to figure out a way to get into your bank account.

And peddling in conspiracy theories is their game, which means there's no shortage of rubes out there in the world willing to believe it.

This is somewhat less annoying than other conspiracy theories. I may not see this spammer for years. Considerably worse would be the flat earth brigade, who scream bloody murder every single time there's a story about space that the world is flat because, well, they said so. It never fails. Despite the mountain of evidence that speaks to a globe. Still, it is annoying, and to them I would say this. 

Do us all a favour and get fitted for cement shoes.

The Curse Of The Internet Scammers

 They are a vile and loathsome lot, and serve no purpose in life. They contaminate our email junk folders with get rich schemes and spam we couldn't care less about. They try to spam our comments with off topic nonsense that proves they're not paying any attention to what we're actually saying. I speak, of course, of that cursed sub-species of humanity otherwise known as homo sapiens spammeritis annoyingus, aka the internet scammer. This came through my email recently.

Please i need your help

GREETINGS AND BLESSINGS OF THE DAY TO YOU, I am Miss. Jane konan, Please can i trust you? to assist me to invest my inheritance fund in your country? and to help me to come over to your country for the betterment of my life and continue my education. I will be happy to hear from you.

Please, get back to me via my private email address:( missjanekonan1@att.net ).for more information.

BEST REGARDS,
MISS.JANE KONAN.

Well, this one is shorter than some of the essay length crap I tend to see. But the tell-tales of the spammer are clear to see. She (he, or it) starts out with all capitals in a sentence, which comes across as screaming. There are punctuation and capitalization issues in this brief bit of nonsense, such as putting a period after Miss, and not capitalizing the surname. You'd think they'd know this, but of course, Jane Konan isn't their real name.

They ask if they can trust me. About as much as I'd trust you, which is not at all. Because if this was real (it's not), I'd be rifling through that fake inheritance inside of a minute.

I mean, why not? It's the sort of thing whoever is on the other side of this long line of email addresses is willing to do to the poor sucker who actually believes it. Once they've got them hooked, they'll mention the 'processing fees' or 'administrative fee' of a few thousand dollars that must be sent first to free up that money. They're perfectly willing to screw people over that way.

But at any rate, I don't buy it. I've seen this all too often, and am wise to your ways.

Nice try, numbskull. You really must be desperate if you keep doing this, as opposed to... oh, finding an honest way to make a living. But it won't work on me. Maybe you'll get lucky and one or two people in that list of half a million random email addresses you've sent this off to will be dumb enough to believe it, and dumb enough to send that 'administrative fee'. 

Or maybe you'll just do the world a favour and drop into Middle Earth and run into this guy.

Bad Decisions And Good Cupcakes

I have an image blog today. Enjoy!

A Day In The Life Of A Dog

It is time once again for the point of view of the dog and the cat, starting, as always, with the dog. And with that whole convention next week in Cleveland, it seemed like a good idea to get their perspective.

7:22 AM. Waking up at home. Feeling pangs of hunger.  Haven't eaten since those cookies I swiped at nine o'clock last night without the human noticing.

7:26 AM. The human comes downstairs. Human! Hello! Is it a wonderful day or is it a wonderful day? Tell me, how about we get started on some breakfast? Because just between us, I’m feeling quite a bit peckish right about now, and could benefit from a bite to eat.

7:29 AM. Gobbling down a big bowl of kibbles. Boy, does this taste good!

7:33 AM. Out the door for my morning run. Bye, human! Don’t go for a car ride without me!

7:41 AM. Running through the back fields, barking like I’ve lost my mind. I’m sure that cranky cat pretty much thinks I’ve lost my mind, or gone off the map, or started chasing my tail, or whatever it is cats think we do. Cats are strange that way.

7:58 AM. Stopping in to see Spike the Magnificent, Tormentor of Squirrels. Hello, Spike!

7:59 AM. Spike and I have exchanged greetings in the customary canine manner of sniffing butts. I wonder why humans don’t do that. Surely it would make more sense than that shaking paws thing... I mean, shaking hands thing they do. Who came up with that idea in the first place?

8:01 AM. We confer on movements of the enemy. The squirrels have been curiously quiet as of late. We expect they might be amassing a secret plan to take over the world. Either that or they’re just not that fond of summer heat. 

8:03 AM. Spike tells me that there’s that whole thing starting up today, a convention for a bunch of people who use an elephant as their symbol and have an orange skinned lunatic as their candidate. Yes, I’ve been watching the news too. There’s never a story out there on the taste consistency of dog treats. I don’t know about you, Spike, but elephants like eating peanuts, right? Just like squirrels. That surely must mean the elephants and squirrels are in on it together, right?

8:05 AM. Spike remarks on how glad his humans are to be Canadians and not have to put up with that sneering guy wearing the weird hairpiece. My human wonders how many guinea pigs were sacrificed to make that hairpiece.

8:08 AM. Well, I’m off. Just in case my human decides to go for a ride without me. See you later, Spike!

8:21 AM. Returning home. Human! Loki, Chewer of Slippers and Annoyer of Mailmen, has returned!

8:32 AM. Okay, sure I’ve only been up for an hour and some change, but you know, it’s a hot day, and I think a good nap is in order. Circling around in the living room precisely three times before settling down on the rug. Just the way doggies should do.

11:26 AM. Waking up. Glancing at the clock. Good. I didn’t sleep through lunch.

12:08 PM. Have successfully mooched dinner rolls from the human. Yum yum yum!

1:29 PM. Barking at the mailman as he stops to leave some mail. Hey! Get lost, you monster!

2:09 PM. Engaged in serious canine philosophical debate with myself. Is it true that the dog wags the tail... or is it possible- just possible, mind you- that the tail wags the dog? Or is that just too metaphysical and weird?

5:28 PM. Waking up from nap. Nice smells of food coming from the kitchen. Ah, good, my human’s making dinner.

6:35 PM. Supper with the human. Some shepherd’s pie for both of us. Well done, human, I do so very approve, you know.

7:03 PM. Supervising the human while she washes the dishes. You never know when a human might need a good barking at to keep at it, after all.

7:41 PM. The human has the television on. The talking heads are blathering on about all eyes around the world will be on Cleveland for the next few days. The human tells me that no one in their right minds would want to go to Cleveland. Why’s that? Is the whole city run by cats?

8:03 PM. The news has that awful guinea pig hairpiece wearing dolt sneering and yelling. The human starts describing him with a series of curse words that would shock a nun. Human? I didn’t know you had that sort of vocabulary.

8:04 PM. The human turns off the television. She says she has no interest in replacing a television, and if she continues to hear the voice of that Trump person, she’s going to end up throwing something at the screen. Okay, that makes sense. I can see why he’d have that effect on people.

9:18 PM. While the human reads a book, I busy myself staring at the ceiling fan as it turns over and over and over and over and over and over and.... I’d better stop staring at it, or I’m going to throw up.

11:00 PM. The national news begins, with the anchor telling us that earlier this evening, Donald Trump had himself yet another cringe worthy moment when he declared that his first act in office will be to drop a nuclear bomb on Paris. The president of France is not amused.

11:36 PM. The human is off to bed. Well, good night, human. I’ll stay down here. You know, if you ask me, it would be better for all concerned if humans just elected dogs to run things. We’d ban mailmen, wag tails, and see to it that there are dog treats in every kitchen.