This still doesn’t mean you can call me a blogger but….

I got a spam email this morning entitled “What has Crafty Clark got up her European sleeve?” to my work address.

I really don’t like spam. I was also somewhat disgusted at the content of the email, which included stuff like: “And during the government’s controversial condom campaign homosexual men were tongue-ing each other at a time when children were still watching television.” (Ummm, so?) There was also some stuff about Helen Clark is obviously a TOTAL EVIL COMMUNIST because some group in the Phillipines that got raided by the police had her name on a piece of paper, AND she picked coffee in Nicaragua, and you know what that means!

Anyways, my point is, this came from the email address paintbrushed@37.com, and when I wrote back (because hey, work has spam filters), saying that actually, I’m well happy with the current government and I’m stoked that homophobia is more of a minority in this country than homosexuality, and here is my name because I’m proud to put it to my opinions rather than hide anonymously, I got another reply going “attack the facts, not the messenger”.

My point is this: spam me, paintbrushed@37.com, and suddenly, you become fair game for spam yourself.

By the same token of Taking Vigilante Action Against Internet Crime, two little European girls and who had been directly linking to butterfly images hidden in the depths of Hubris now instead have pictures of genitally warted anuses (anii?) on their webpages. Gee, I wonder how that happened……

Also:

  • I am in love with feijoa & custard yoghurt, but nutrigrain is nasty (I reached the end of my cereal eight pack)
  • It’s nine sleeps or so until I hit the big A, and Ponsnobby accomodation is booked, dinner at Sawadee (you’re invited) is planned, invitations to two parties have been provided, tickets to The Mountain Goats gig are hopefully being acquired, but my darling Hayley hairdresser has apparently quit Ciao Bella. Bum!
  • We’ve started having morning tea every Wednesday at work. Hurray! My project manager brought in home baked scones and cake today. She has two young children and is also doing an MBA as well as working full time here. My suggestion that she is taking her children’s ritalin was not happily received.
  • In more examples of “my body is on crack” I now get stomach cramps like period pain when I orgasm. What?
  • I saw and adored Sin City last night (“eventually I was just punching liquid bone into the floor, so I stopped”) and then Anji and I rode a different bus home, enabling us to peer into all the lit up houses along Oriental Parade as we went. I am going to be rich someday, oh yes I am.
  • On that note, perhaps it is time i went back to work.

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