March 8th, 2009

cass groovy

magnificent spam

Checking my spam box for erroneous classifications by the software, I found one of the greatest paragraphs I've read in a while. The spammer uses generated Chomskyish paragraphs to try to slip past spam detectors; didn't work, but the text is a beaut.

How was your summer? Seemed llke lt flew by as always. Now that fall ls approcahlng why not call my lnformatlon llne to hear how you can use your telephone to brlng ln 1500-3500 uslng lt to resturn calls for us. Get the detalls at thls number.

[number deleted]

Any freight train can go deep sea fishing with a paycheck over a mastadon, but it takes a real chain saw to throw a load bearing fairy at another scythe. When you see a submarine, it means that a single-handledly alleged girl scout daydreams. The usually childlike wheelbarrow figures out a nuclear cocker spaniel. A frightened avocado pit takes a coffee break, and a fractured apartment building earns frequent flier miles; however, the abstraction conquers a crane. Any movie theater can know a cargo bay, but it takes a real reactor to reach an understanding with a blotched crane.


I would give money to hear Ellen Barkin read that. "A frightened avocado pit takes a coffee break, and a fractured apartment building earns frequent flier miles; however, the abstraction conquers a crane. It's THEME TIME RADIO HOUR, with your host Bob Dylan."
pointy teeth

APED: "full moon"

A word, before you walk the woods,
where I wandered, once, upon a time.
Remember well: some paths are good,
and lead to scenic views sublime,
where trees grow tall and flourish green,
but other paths take darker routes,
through blighted forest, seldom seen
and trees bring forth but stunted shoots.
I walked that way, once. Long ago.
A foolish thing you shouldn't do.
I had a reason, you may know.
A simple, silly reason, true.
A heavy basket. I walked slow.
My heavy cloak, against the chill,
the winter wind a bitter blow.
A walk that I remember still.
You know, too, what I found within:
the wolf. His eyes, and claws, and teeth,
where grandmother's home had been.
Her lacey cap. The wolf beneath.
The woodsman came. The wolf he slew.
I left the basket, took to flight.
The woodsman's dead. Grandmother, too.
I suffered but a single bite.
You heard the tale. You heard it wrong.
The woods is different, nowadays.
The old wolf's beaten, withered, gone --
Now there's me. Be you afraid.