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Home > Rant > Your Store Is No Longer My Cureall, Motherfucker

Your Store Is No Longer My Cureall, Motherfucker

November 2nd, 2006

For months, I’d been receiving somewhere between fifty and one hundred per day: spams sent directly to my work mail server, bypassing the University hub and its junk mail filter. I installed a local filter, but that only worked for as long as Outlook remained open, and it did nothing to keep spam from filling my inbox to overload if I took more than a couple of days off.

It got so that I knew their subject lines by heart:

  • “Our store is your cureall!”
  • “Full of health? Then don’t click!”
  • “She wants a better sex? Click here!”

That changed Tuesday, when I was moved to a new server under the protective shield of the University. In the past two days, I’ve received a total of four spams, and not one of them asked if I was full of health.

Goodbye, boys. I won’t miss you. If, in the future, she wants a better sex, I’m pretty sure I can get by without your help.

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