View Full Version : Having fun with spam

04-29-2006, 08:53 PM
Spam -- not the food, the email! The sender names and subject lines of spam can be so hilarious. I've salvaged some from my spam catcher and offer it to you for inspiration for purple prose, extremely short stories, haiku, sonnets, car ads, directions for medication, radio ads, greeting cards, government documents or whatever comes to mind. Use them over or add more.

I can't wait to see what you come up with!

Vaugh, all her antecedents gave him a sort of license
Reed, joust mush crosscut longfellow
Odis Strong, Emma it doherty
Burford Perkins, her activism
Eduardo, opalescent
Hubert Charles, the knoll just behind was the clump of trees
Beverly Webber, Seymour or porcupine?
Alyce Adams, Can vicar confession his
Harvey, diploma samoa ultimate waistline
Trisha Chang, it's catfish ashamed
Boguslaw Muldoon, faa with alliterate
Marian Barnes, rifle can?
Haynes, stasis dispersal hypothyroid booster
Karyn Mayo, you warmup?
Alvarez, art divergent egalitarian
Fleming, nato decedent princeton
Wyatt Cahill, likely cannibal towel
Williams Askew, apparition in sire position
Opining D. Safekeepings, dying herbert belgian bounce
Wilda Teague, dialogue contour atheism fantasy
Neva Tolbert, delight hey caleb on malignant!
Will Crotts, wheelchair circumstantial blush
Percy Grimm, clink hey much testicular on!
Leanne Davidson, At gum and alpheratz
Snjezana Martines, make him drunk and giggling Yet there...
Gruffudd Lefebre, did empty begun her?
Concepcion Coker, Wyatt pinkish
Garza, tantamount chromatogram masterful
Alexis Hutchins, There calumny above
Cuthbert Bedsole, strauss drummond corbel coup
Brock Dickens, it's cain brainard
Lori Guy, with sad frequent oh?
Roxie, capistrano
Darin Dye, Like Chavez, Humala is a former army colonel who led a failed
Doreen Connell, on churchill damp
Jimmy Kay, possible cricket coypu
Aubrey Cunningham, Wyoming is down to two child psychiatrists, another left last year
Gina Wiseman, much changeover it's furniture
Leslie Gunn, Lilian may bedbug
Delores Earl, Asked den collapsible
Lamis Fronk, joy on lobster
Parisa Galbraith, theorem
suzette, monolith
Gustavo Clark, avocado did agrimony uproot with?
Luis Beach, did baptismal?
Ken Bermudez, intolerant disabled, to the degree they are
Terry, autosuggestible dionysus afterthought despondency
Stafford, problematic problematic child

04-29-2006, 08:55 PM
"Eduardo!" Maggie stood watching him watching the women walking by on the street.

Narrowing her eyes, she yelled again, "EDUARDO!"

Fishermen along the bay a mile distant raised their heads, but Eduardo only smiled slightly and continued enjoying the female tide that flowed past.

Maggie was torn between wanting to push him out in traffic or sway seductively past him, hoping to catch his interest. She was wearing her new designer jeans, so tight she could barely breath, and a short, short flirty top that bared her flat stomach. Just this morning she had attached a cluster of ripe pearls to her belly button ring, knowing their soft glow would draw his eye. Eduardo loved body jewelry...craved the feel of treasures and flesh under his hands.

She gave in to her heedless passion and walked towards him and stopped, leaning against the cold granite of the City Building. He watched her as she told him she was going home to bathe. There was no question he would surrender.

Maggie walked home in passionate triumph. Eduardo followed, a prisoner to his desires. The treasures...the flesh...and the opalescent gleam of the bubbles beckoned to him.

04-30-2006, 12:14 AM
"Marian Barnes, rifle can?"

"One can only hope, Marian", she thought to herself as she hefted the big gun to her shoulder. She had carefully hidden herself downwind in camoflage and bushes.
The big cat tipped it's nose to the breeze, trying to detect any foodsource nearby. It twitched a thick gold tail back and forth in contemplation. Suddenly the cat crouched.
Marian quietly pulled back the safety and squinted her eyes, holding her breath.
One hundred and fifty pounds of mountain lion grabbed air as she squeezed the trigger.
It was over! She had shot the varmit who had systematically eaten the season's lambs, one by one. Dang thing had leapt right at her!
Marian took off her hat and wiped her brow with a paisley hankie. Thank God she had lived in the city. This cat was nothing compared to gangs.