The subject lines of spam emails continue to amaze me, particularly one that came over the transom earlier today:
You always wanted to use your penis as a billiards cue.
How do they do it? I mean, they've got my number right there, again! That was always my secret dream. I wanted to chalk my little soldier blue like Braveheart and cleave that rack like a proton splitting a transuranic atom. I yearned to be the Harlem Globetrotters of eight-ball, but, you know, pornographic. And just one guy. And white.
Spammers. Damn. ::shaking head::
