Hey, I’m just getting used to the fact that Lacey Savage, who I used to chat with on loops once in a while (Hey, way to go, Lacey, great sale) is Toni Blake. I’m suspicious now. I’m afraid I’m going to embarrass myself by saying WTG to Nora or somebody like that in disguise. Okay, maybe not Nora. That would just be stupidity on her part.
I don’t know who I’m talking to anymore. I get some names mixed up (“no, I don’t write for them, I write for the other company”) a lot. Everyone has a yahoo name and a blog that has some other name and a myspace that might have some other clever name. There are paperback readers and paperback writers and evil editors galore.
The stuff that really gets me shouldn’t, though. The junk mail. Who ARE these people? More importantly, who actually responds to these emails? I’m getting the cumulative willies from them. “Find sexaholics in your neighborhood” came today. WHAT? Oh, sure, I’m hoping to track them down, give them my address.
No thanks, I don’t want to be bigger than Ron Jeremy, I don’t want to help any deposed Nigerian kings’ wives get their billions out of a bank, I don’t want a mortgage, and I don’t shop at Home Depot.
The oddest one today:
“so you look to Design
Good afternoon. How are you? Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org only. I am young female. I would like to share some of my pics. stressed-out it would be useful three mornings the zeros element of
And it trails off there. The zeros element of your… What? The zeros element. I was really pondering this for a while, wondering if a monkey could have managed to get this far (you know the old saying).
I can’t quite remember life before the internet. But I know that I was annoyed less, mostly.