Spam n' eggs, Spam n' spam...

Today I actually clicked on some of those spam e-mails I always delete. The temptation to get free Starbucks for a year was too much to resist. So after getting my free Starbucks for a year coupon, I decided to head over to the local Starbucks and get a triple mocha latte with extra whip. It worked! Being the planner-aheader that I am, I brought my notebook computer so I could test the waters of spam again.

I logged on at the comfy sofas at the Starbucks that used to be called Circadia on the corner of Mariposa and Bryant, kitty-corner to the Muni bus barn. After signing into my Yahoo mail account, I found 69 bulk e-mails that were ripe for the picking. Just as I was about to click on one with the subject line "Mexican Pharmacy tj" my iPod ran out of juice. There's not much that will take the wind out of your sails easier than having your iPod die. Especially while it's in the middle of "Red Alert" by Basement Jaxx.

Suddenly, like an angel descending from heaven, the words "Claim your Apple iPod 40GB" glowed from my computer screen. Click. Almost immediately a punk rock bike messenger was handing over a box and demanding my signature. Unfortunately the iPod was the damn U2 version and had nothing loaded on it except for U2. There's always some hitch when stuff is free. Thank god for Under a Blood Red Sky.

This spam thing was like a dream come true. Actually it was like having unlimited wishes, but always with some loophole in the wish making it not exactly what you wanted. I was having so much fun consolidating my debt and selecting new desktop computers, I neglected to check my battery usage. I clicked on every single spam link, and the last one from Conjurer H. Giggling had the subject line asking "Leegardnersf wanna play? knead" This one sounded kinda odd, but hey how bad could it be? I envisioned myself playing "knead the bread dough" or playing "knead the sore calf muscle" at Starbucks as the baristas cleaned the espresso machines for the next morning. Instead, some huge hairy dude in a wrestling outfit busted through the door. He wore a jock strap and protective cup on the OUTSIDE of his singlet. "WHO'S LEEGARDNERSF?" He shouted into the room full of computer caffeine addicts. He shouted "WHO WANTS TO PLAY KNEED?" Now I understood. Knead. Check.

My computer ran out of juice and shut off. The wrestler guy barreled over to a sofa near the door. I silently said "Oh fuck" to myself. He angrily confronted a web design-y hipster. "YOU LEEGARDNERSF?" I discreetly closed my computer and got the hell outta there. I hopped on the 22 Fillmore and listened to "With or Without You" for the 20th time that afternoon. When I arrived home, I plugged my computer in and looked for some new bulk e-mails in my Yahoo account. There were too many to count. I clicked on "Paris Hotels $49 a night." Nothing. Clicked again. Nothing. I clicked on "Need Quick Cash?" Nothing. It looks like I better just realize that spam is just spam. Unless it's spam n' eggs. Or bacon eggs n' spam. Or spam spam n' spam...