Sunday, January 30, 2005

Praise the Spam!

Praise the Spam!

"Christian Debt Removal". "Christian Pharmacy". If my spam is anything to go by, the easiest way to make a quick buck these days is to pose as the Church of the Enlightened Turkey and rip those God-fearing folks for every penny they've got. These are frightening end-of-history days where the Rapture is just around the corner, and George W Bush is now the democratically elected earthly representative of The Lord himself, so it pays to be with the good guys and their large, over-filled wallets.

In the past it was old-fashion medicine shows and touring faith healers. Then there came the TV evangelists. Now you can rake it in with minimal effort from the comfort of your own home through the Marketing Miracle of bulk e-mail technology (Praise the Lord!).

You can, if you're canny sell anything to any gullible person, providing you can swallow the crap dollars-to-pounds exchange rate. So, with the help of the contents of my spam folder, the following are a sure-fire winner at the Bank of Scary:

- Christian Septic Tanks
- Christian L0lItas
- Christian Replica Rolexes
- Cheating Christian Housewives
- Christian spermatazoon and manhood enhancer

I'm particularly excited about the last one. Strong God-fearing spermatazoon are the building blocks of this great nation, and it is our duty to ensure that only the best quality jizz is used to baste those Cheating Christian Housewives (14.99 per dozen).

This time next year, Rodders...


I rarely jump onto internet me-me's, but I was pushed into a reponse following the story about "fantasy coffins" on the BBC's news pages.

When I cark it, I've decided to do away with the whole coffin business, and have left my nearest and dearest strict instructions to have my corpse fired out of a cannon straight up Billie Piper's arse. It's what I would have wanted.

I'm quite excited about the whole prospect already. That's where the phrase "die hard" comes from, you know.

Fail to carry out my orders to the letter, and I shall come back and haunt the fitting rooms in the lingerie department at Marks and Spencers. That, too, is what I would have wanted. It's a win-win.

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