As usual, I’ve just performed the monthly chore of disinfecting my email in-box of everything in the spam folder – to date, this month, 196 items of unwanted, unsolicited, unmitigated junk.
And, as usual, I had a sneaky peek at the subject ‘headlines’, just in case something useful had inadvertently found its way in there. Nope, no surprises.
So I did a quick calculation and discovered about eight out of 10 messages were offering me what can only be described as ‘aids to improve my sexual gratification’ and, collaterally, that of my lady wife, who has so far registered no dissatisfaction over conjugal matters following 27 years of nothing less than marital bliss (not that I’m boasting, girls).
Naturally, it had me wondering who are these strangers in cyberspace who’ve come to the conclusion my performance in boudoir Olympics isn’t even up to bronze-medal standing (forgive the Freudian slip) and I’m in dire need of Viagra, herbal aphrodisiacs and penile enhancers to (if you’ll pardon the expression) raise me to podium status.
Frankly, such chutzpah gives me the hump (not in a sexual context, you understand).
Then I rumbled it: my on-line, internet profile has been sold, swapped, traded, analysed, dissected and categorised to the degree that manufacturers and retailers of certain pills, unctions and strap-on/pump-up devices regard me as a contender for assistance between the sheets/back seat of the car/up against the park railings/standing up in a hammock.
To the best of my knowledge (and I’ve checked with the missus), I’m not a candidate. At least not yet, though never say never, as I always say.
Therefore, to all you spam-senders, please note that my new, on-line profile is: Friar Eunuchus, a Trappist hermaphrodite of indeterminate age, who has as much interest in sex as in the extinction of the dildo – sorry, dodo – and who can be discounted as a possible punter for anything you’re flogging (selling, that is, with no link to S&M).
So please – P-L-E-A-S-E! – delete me from your mailing list as quickly as I toss out (no pun intended) your junk from my spam folder.
Thanks in advance, even if my plea will be an impotent one (though don’t get the wrong idea there, either).