The I Love You virus is
a)a bug left over from the sixties now reemerging with a popular following from spiritually divested baby boomers with no ties to organized religion
b)a punchy euphemism for an STD
c)a virus that will use any line in the book in order to replicate.
The answer is always C, which
is closest to the truth. What's in a subject line? Insidious intent. Try
writing "insidious intent" in your subject field and watch how popular
that message becomes. Other ploys for readership…
"You owe me money gringo!" (Please tone it down with something simple and recognizable like "Your account it past due")
"Death in the family. Urgent" (don't give me that look. I didn't write it)
"Why a Beer Is Better Than a Woman" (don't you people ever tire of reading that?)
If you're not a wordy kind of person, you can still goose correspondents with single word subject lines. Some time tested winners-
Capital letters for some reason are particularly effective. It's like certain people have never used the caps lock key before. Or the shift key. Don't you feel like a retard when you use the shift key for a long time and soon realize you could've just hit Caps Lock. I CAN'T BE THE ONLY ONE!
If at all possible, personalize the message. It's always a riot when you fill out forms with false information, naming yourself Julio Iglesias. One day later you receive an email with the subject line, "Hey Julio, ju remember me?"
I support the I Love You virus. Anything to discourage friends and family from sending you schmaltzy poems and words of inspiration. If you're going to send anything, send money.
My account is past due, gringo.
My father has this thing about people leaving the lights on. You walk out of a room for two seconds and you hear him scream "WHO LEFT THE LIGHTS ON." It could be a nite lite, a flashlight but he's like a plant. He knows where there's light. I've decided that when I leave this world, it has to be instantaneous. I deserve to die in peace. I can't linger on an operating table. I don't want to be put at risk of having a near death experience and being blamed for the electric bill. That's why your grandmother is at the end of the tunnel. She's going to chew your ass out for leaving the bright light on. One day I'm going to use a strobe light and send my dad to the looney bin.
G-d Bless America. There's so much insane strife in other parts of the globe. We're rather selective about the strife we profile in the media. If Mrs. Guiliani calls Rudy's girlfriend a Congress groupie, it makes the front page. But if Latvia, Cameroon, Togo, and Estonia started fighting, would anyone consider it a world war?
I just used a fat fluffy towel. This towel had a train. I don't know if I like towels that big. I like to wrap towels around my hair like a turban. Without getting whiplash.
|Towel Dry Humor|
kind of towel do you prefer?
TOWEL. Modesty is for the monks (the monks have no comment)
I was watching this cable special on Navy Seals. One trainer wields an enormous gun (I think this particular model is called "Get out of my way!"), capable of delivering more rounds than a bar on ladies' night. Trainer sez, "Oh you see in the movies people firing these from the waist, when you're really supposed to fire it like a rifle." Yeah, that's the unrealistic aspect I'd single out. Never mind that in the movies you can shoot these megaweapons at close range and miss your target (who's wearing a shirt with a bulls eye on it). And if you do happen to hit a good guy, it's always in the leg. Of course that never immobilizes the hero. He's ultimately going to hop your way and take you out. In the meantime, I stub my toe on my bed frame and it's as if I've been hobbled.
Oops. I did it again.
No that was not my Britney Spears imitation. If I wanted to do that I'd wear a cropped shirt and pump helium into any room where I was singing. Anything left would go into my bra. Oops I did it again. The only place I don't spill coke is into a glass. Some days I feel like the only person in the world who thinks neoprene keyboards is an idea whose time has come. Oh like the hat with the straw isn't stupid!
Can I buy you a keyboard?
It's no fun having to explain a sticky keyboard. A keyboard which does nothing to discourage me from drinking diet soda (oh sure the "tab" key's original function was to indent!!) Parched but persistent, I will type out next week's wobservation between coke machine mirages.
It's been a hectic week. I
lost my quasi-current events wobservation presumably because I wrote it
out in advance. The moral of the story is- you can't spill soda into this
That was last week's moral. You want new rules for morality? don't ethics bog you down enough already!
Speaking about the dissolution of morality, I recently pointed out to a pal that no matter what synonym you use for boobies, popular or makeshift, men will know what you're referring to. When I tried to reinforce my argument, the first items that came to mind were things like cantaloupes and I ran through the gamut of all things round. Then I came up with "answering machines"
"She has really big answering machines."
Now don't all of you guys go running to call her up! (she's not home anyway)
Then I maintained that the same doesn't hold true for descriptions of the male jewels.
My friend disagreed.
"He has a really big answering machine."
My friend seemed to think the reference was obvious. But he's delusional about a lot of things, least of all the size of his answering machine.
I had a rough couple of days (don't offer to massage my answering machines for me). Never a houseguest or a hostess be. Hosting is for Regis Philbin. A million dollars to lay next to someone who doesn't do calisthenics in their sleep and who understands the merits of being unhealthy, unwealthy, unwise but well rested.