I got put on the Social Planning Committee at work. This means I help plan the throw-downs, the bashes, that we have quarterly, where we celebrate whoever had a birthday and we get a little report about the company. I have been to three of these so far, and they are seriously lacking in liquor and adult entertainment, so that is first on my agenda.
My friend Blanche and I used to walk past this adult theater every night in Seattle on our way to our public transportation. The theater was called The Lusty Lady, and I am sorry to tell you they had absolutely hilarious things written on their marquee every night. It was always our highlight to see what they had up. My all-time favorite was "Et Tu, Booty" but on St. Patrick's Day it read, "Erin Go Braless."
And again I realize that I will never, ever be Grace Kelly, will I?
I have gathered you all here today to complain about email.
Do you know what I like? I like getting real email from people. You know, like "Hey, it's me, your old pal. How you be? I have a corn you would not believe." That sort of thing.
Do you know what I don't like? Forwarded emails. And I get nine hundred thousand of them every day.
First of all, I am NEVER interested in what they tell me. The warnings are almost always untrue (that's why they invented Snopes.com, folks), (and for the record, SERIOUSLY? Does anyone STILL believe this "Bill Gates is gonna give you his money" thing?), the jokes are rarely funny, and I am thrilled that you consider me one of the 10 women you love the most and to show it you are sending me a heart made from parentheses, but if you really loved me you would just send me a real email saying "Hey."
I know this makes me the crabbiest person on earth, but you knew that when you married me. And I should say, for the record, that I KNOW I just sent a bunch of you one of those questionnaires that first I filled out all the answers and then you are supposed to fill them all out and send them back to me. But those are PERSONAL. I get to hear PERSONAL information about you, such as what color crayon you would be.
So, yeah, I can be annoying with my forwards, too.
Oh! And this is the most important part. You know how you get those forwarded emails and you have to scroll down though 87 old paragraphs of other people's email addresses from OTHER people who forwarded this thing?
And you know how you get 200 spam emails a day? Guess how you got them?
You got them because someone unscrupulous got forwarded the "10 Reasons Chocolate is Better than Men" email with 97,000 emails on it, and that unscrupulous person used those addresses to send spam.
So, is it just me? Am I the crankiest crankerbritches and you all love love love to get those jokes and warnings not to go to someone's car to smell perfume samples and now those of you who forward me things will hate me forever? Or does everybody secretly agree with me?