Spam used to be pink stuff that I coveted.
When I had a packed lunch as a 60′s child, it was all wholemeal bread and grilled chicken and celery sticks and homemade yoghurt sweetened with pureed fruit. (take note parents of small children determined to feed them fit)
My mates had white packet bread and spam with pickle. I remember thinking that it was because we must be really poor that we couldn’t buy processed. That somehow their parents loved them more to give them cake.
We had home made food, home sewn clothes, camping holidays. Phumph!.. every year I longed for Butlins or just to be home alone like my mates.
Spam now is something you can’t give away and it tumbles into your inbox every time you log on.
This morning for example, instead of grinding my teeth writing this blog, I should be sifting my mail and answering what I know are some really pressing questions.
I cannot be arsed!
Well…. just because it is like picking up after the kids all over again. I leave a messy living room and enter a messy in-box and I want to turn and walk out of that too.
Who are these people that think …hehe…we will have them…I have in my hands many email addresses……we are made brother!….we will send them an offer they cannot refuse, in something that approximates their mother tongue…like this!…
“We are most earnest moguls with unfortunately large sacks of dollars currently being transported on sick donkeys for delivery to you, and added to which you have won a lottery $9,000,000,00, and your bank asked us to represent them in wiring to you many things including shoes of your choosing for quick response lady friend. Our church needs a roof Quid Pro Quo Clarice. Send who you are or a nation is lost.”
What is that all about? Do people really respond?
“Great! Yeah fab, I think we can do something here!”
Do these entrepreneurs have offices and work experience translators and venn diagrams?
If we ever managed to rid ourselves of them, would a premiership football club collapse over night?
You would think not.
They should try plumbing.
It seems to be a lucrative enough career.
…..and before you go all right-on on me. If they’ve got a sodding computer, they can lay their hands on a wrench.