« all by my little lonesome self | Main | a long (and often idiotic) survey »

Sunday, September 21, 2003

stupid spam and diet cherry coke

Obviously spammers must expect that any recipient of their glurge who actually takes it seriously and replies will be a little low on gray matter, or at least seriously naïve, and they profit from that without being bothered by it. But exactly how stupid do they think people can be? Here's a spam I got just a few minutes ago (you can click on it to view it larger; it'll open in a new window):

Look, I don't know how to say this without coming across all Ugly-American and everything, but for crying out loud, if you're going to attempt credit-card fraud against people in the U.S. or other English-speaking nations, it might be a good idea to learn freaking English. Otherwise absolutely nobody, not even some really nice naïve elderly person who just gave her social security number, credit card number, and physical address to that nice-sounding young boy on the phone who was entering her in a contest to win a timeshare in Alaska, is going to fall for your idiotic scheme. Cripes.


As an aside, why, I wonder, are the elderly particularly vulnerable to stuff like that? It sounds so awful to say that... and yet they are -- not just to fraud schemes either; they seem particularly gullible about a lot of things. Maybe it's because they are from a more trusting time. I've no idea. In every other way they are pretty reliably intelligent, but even my smart, spunky, feisty grandmother who brought up seven kids on a shoestring and worked every day from the time her youngest flew the nest (and lots before that too) till she had her hip replaced at 75 repeats that stupid ball-pit story like she heard it from God himself. I don't get it.


My almost-4-year-old daughter has discovered the remote control. She is giddy with the glee of putting in Homecoming (that Showtime movie based on the book by Cynthia Voigt; we have it on video) and watching everyone run around in fast-forward and rewind. It sounds goofy until I remember how much giddy enjoyment I (at a considerably later age, considering that pretty much nobody but millionaires owned VCRs when I was 3) got from doing the same thing with music videos recorded off TV, and movies like Top Gun (the sex scene in that one was especially funny on rewind or FF. In fact, now that I think of it, I would probably still think so now).


The boys should be home anytime from their trip to southern CA. I really hope they're bringing me some diet Cherry Coke. For some idiotic reason, the northern CA bottler doesn't manufacture it, but the southern CA one does. T and I didn't even know it existed till this summer. Ever since we got our 2-(24-)pack-a-week Diet Coke habit -- well, even before that, since we liked Diet Coke for a long time before we could afford an addiction -- we have spent considerable time wishing there was such a thing. Then we were in Morro Bay over the summer, and we literally could not believe our eyes at first when we saw THE GRAIL -- Diet Cherry Coke in 12-packs. We bought three 12-packs on the spot, loved it, and rejoiced that the Powers the Be at Coca-Cola had finally gotten the idea and started making it. Then we got home and there was no diet Cherry Coke here. We had been tricked -- teased! After extensive internet research I unearthed the truth: Diet Cherry Coke has actually existed for a long time, it's just that the Communists in northern California have been keeping it from us. I actually called the Northern CA bottler and was further led on by their spokesperson who said (in July) that they were planning to start producing Diet Cherry Coke within the month. She must have just said that to keep me from bombing their facility, because hello, it's September now, and still no diet Cherry Coke in our local stores. But T and LT have just spent 18 hours below the Grapevine, which is even further south than Morro Bay, and hence must be under the direct patronage of the good guys. Please please let them have remembered on time, before they passed back up into the diet cherry wasteland.


On that note, I have sat long enough and should really wash the dishes so that T doesn't take one look at the kitchen and say, "You spent the entire time I was gone chatting with Jenn and hanging out at Diaryland, didn't you." Which would not be entirely true. ahem.


* * * * * * * * ULTRA MEGA IMPORTANT DIET CHERRY COKE UPDATE * * * * * * * *

9:30 PM


I have the best husband in the world. Sorry ladies, you can stop looking, the perfect man is married. I knew that even BEFORE he came home with six 12-packs of diet cherry coke for me (all they had at Ralph's in Bakersfield). But it was just strongly reinforced. He brought me two on a bed of ice, as an homage to the way he used to put Peach Snapple in my car while I was at work, when we were dating. He would buy up every bottle of it they had in our small town -- which in the early 90's wasn't much as Snapple wasn't as big a deal yet then as it is now -- and put them by to leave for me a few at a time.


My regular diet Coke cans are looking at me resentfully. They'll just have to learn to share me for the next seventy-two cans' worth.

--------