Spam spam spam spam spam spam

spam spam spam spam spam spam

spam spam spam spam spam spam

spam spam spam spam spam spam

spam.

The best thing about classic spam

is that it reminds us how funny

it was the first time. Whenever

we're feeling that there's little

left to amuse - and the copyright

violations in a.b.p.e. are

beginning to look just a little

too familiar - there's always a

piece of warm, leftover spam to

remind us that the more things

fail to change, the more they

stay the same.

People say the net has no sense

of history - they're wrong. The

net's a cross between an

elephant and a white elephant

sale - it never forgets, and

it's always crap. Ah, the

down-home flavor of spam.

Nothing warms our tired old bones

better than to come to our inbox

and find that David Rhodes is

dying of the Good Times virus

and wants to get in the Guiness

Book of World Records by

collecting the most

Neiman-Marcus cookie recipes.

Admittedly, it's sometimes

difficult to get enough spam.

Sometimes we go for two, three

days without feasting on classic

spam - enough time that we run a

serious risk of spam withdrawal.

And we imagine that you, too,

have acquired the same

insatiable hunger for spam. As a

sort of public service, then,

allow us to introduce the

Spam-o-matic. No calories, all

aftertaste. Go ahead - help

yourself. Share the love. Share

the spam.

The address to send TO:
(we recommend your own address)

 Brain Tumor Boy     
 Mouse Balls         
 MAKE.MONEY.FAST     
 Good Times          
 Chain Sex           
 ABORT, RETRY, IGNORE
 Cookie Recipe       
 Mr. Gorsky          
 Subscribe           

WARNING: This thing works.

Really. We mean it. Use it, and

people may not like you. We're

serious, now.

UPDATE: We switched this

off in '98. If you haven't

learned your lesson by now,

you never will.