Cathode Tan - Games, Media and Geek Stuff
logo design by man bytes blog

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Spam Poetry

The only good thing about the odd prose that some spammers use to circumvent bayesian filters is how oddly entertaining it can be:

He stood there stupidly, his breath coming quickly, his bouquet quivering in his hands. Otherwise there is no knowing what she might have done to Dorothy. Its the lonesome place around here widout the liddle dancing fate and the dear laugh av her. Its what weall have to be larning, me jewel, if we want to be living wid folkspaceable. This isPat Gardiner, he finished awkwardly. And yet Jingle liked to hear Dorothy play on the piano. I just feel asif I wanted you there, too, Pat. Theres no accounting for the freaksav the craturs. Ive taken out and read the telegram a hundred times just tobe sure. Otherwisethere is no knowing what she might have done to Dorothy. This is Pat Gardiner, he finished awkwardly. Anyway theres one word I never want to hear again as long as Ilive, Judy, and thats quaint.

They condescended to Aunt Edith and Aunt Barbara, too . You would be, too, if your hair wasnt so long and terribly straight. But the min same to like that sort Im telling ye. AndIll always be here and well always be together. Pat liked Dorothy well enough but Joan was a blow. Jingle had a knack of making delightful bird-houses. I cant visit your Happiness, Jingle-baby . Their touch unloosedthe floods of Jingles bitterness. And she had also laughed at Uncle Toms beard and Judys book of UsefulKnowledge. It ought to be clearedout, said Dorothy as they left it. That way she has av smiling at ye as if therewas some nice liddle joke atween yell carry her far. If I did itwould mean missing the steamer at San Francisco. Pat knew his mother had spoiled the name for him. In the end Pat went, thrilling from head to foot with excitement. Exciting andpleasant things were so rare in Jingles life, poor fellow.

Theres no accounting for the freaksav the craturs. There is one about a ghost on a farm belonging to Sylvia Cyrillas uncle who haswhiskers. Jingle, take them off before your mother comes. Ive written some of it every day for a week and just put downeverything that came into my head.

I still remember the one that was about building a time machine.

tagged: ,

No comments: