now clogging the internet elsewhere

21 September 2006

Yet another product for which I am not the target demographic

Somehow, despite my best efforts, my primary email address has become a dumping ground for all manner of spam. Every day I get between 30 and 50 emails offering a GrAEt In*vest OpporTOWNity! or BiGGGGG P*nIs. My spam filter does a pretty good job of catching these, (though a few funny ones manage to get through, including one yesterday with quite a catchy headine: "PRISON," it said. The body of the email said "IT SUCKS." Good point! I'm sold!) In addition to all the spammy crap, though, I seem to have gotten on several retail sales lists. My spam filter does a terrible job of catching these, and every day I seem to get more direct emails advertising books, skinny black pants, slouchy sweaters, and shoes with free shipping. Yesterday, though, I got a direct email that caused me to choke on my coffee. For this product. This product that allows women to DYE their "hair down there." What the hell? The product's website talks cheerfully about how every blonde wants to be a "true blonde," and now, with this product, they can be! (It also covers grays beautifully!) Which makes me wonder: if this product is for the purposes of matching, who exactly is the "Fun Betty" designed for? (Fun Betty is bright fucking pink, and as the website helpfully offers, it makes "the perfect gift!" Ack.) Attention, sellers of pubic hair dye: please leave me off your email sales list in the future. Also, keep me off any lists advertising pubic topiary products or anything involving application of crystals in private areas. Thank you.


At 9/21/2006 11:47:00 AM, Blogger Green said...

Gross! My Yahoo e-mail gets way too much spam. Yahoo doesn't seem to filter at all. What a bitch.

At 9/22/2006 02:39:00 PM, Anonymous samantha Jo Campen said...

That shit is for hookers or 17 year old girls on MySpace. Ich.

I bought Nads in college. I waxed ONE of my arms. Hurt so bad I had to shave the other one. Then I threw my Nads away. Sigh. Story of my life. . . .


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