Attention Spammers

If only I could address all the people who bombard my e-mailbox with their various concerns for my well-being. I would love to put an end to the following recurring inquiries once and for all:

(1) I am not interested in enlarging any portion of my anatomy or my husband's anatomy. We are both happy with everything we've got. (And God knows, the last thing I need is to enlarge anything!) But thanks for caring.

(2) We are equally satisfied with our current mortgage rate. We'll let you know if that changes.

(3) No, I do not want to launch a career as a paralegal. But check back with me in a month.

(4) Do NOT send me things entitled "Hey". I'm from rural Virginia. All my relatives are sending me e-mail entitled "Hey". It's not fair.

(5) I will never order any drug online without a prescription. I live in Hollywood. If I need a prescription anything, all I have to do is go out into the hall and yell, "Has anybody got a fill-in-the-blank?"

(6) I do not need any help managing my debts. But again, check back with me.

(7) Viagra? Keep sending those, I need the laugh.

(8) Psychic predicts the thing that happened yesterday. I like those too.

(9) Work from home/Be your own boss. You're too late!

No names have been changed to protect anybody

Someone e-mailed me this joke, which I liked, so I'm posting it:

A teacher gave her 5th grade class an assignment: have their parents tell them a story with a moral.

The next day the kids came to class and, one by one, told their stories. Little Kathy raised her hand first and said, "We live on a farm and have hens that lay eggs for market. Once we were taking a basket of eggs to market on the front seat of the pick-up truck, and we hit a big bump in the road. The eggs went flying and broke all over everything."

"And what is the moral to that story?"

"Don't put all your eggs in one basket."

"Very good," said the teacher.

Then little Tammy raised her hand and said, "We live on a farm, too. But we raise chickens for the meat market. We had a dozen eggs once, but when they hatched, we got only ten live chicks. And the moral to that story is don't count your chickens before they are hatched."

"That was a fine example, Tammy. Johnny, I believe you had your hand up next."

"Yes Ma'am. My daddy told me that my Aunt Karen was a flight engineer in Desert Storm, and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory, and all she had was a bottle of whiskey, a machine gun, and a machete. She drank the whiskey on the way down so it wouldn't break, and then she landed right in the middle of a hundred enemy soldiers. She killed seventy of them with the machine gun until she ran out of bullets, then she killed twenty more with the machete before the blade broke off. Then she killed the last ten with her bare hands."

"Good Heavens!" said the horrified teacher. "What did your daddy tell you was the moral to that terrible story?"

"Stay the hell away from Aunt Karen when she's been drinking."