Sprayed With Spam

So I love my Gmail account. I do. Without it, I'd constantly have to delete hilarious e-mail threads involving the Supreme Court, the Rangers, and baby Mangino, for lack of room. And I know I can consign all my spam to one nifty folder, but it's not exactly the confines of hell. It's a folder that I can open, and look at the spam that Gmail has so thoughtfully tried to remove from my purvey. For some reason, I look anyway. Take today. There's some guy named Vincent that really wants to give me a job. Only, he misspells job. Someone else says I've won a $250 gift card at McDonald's. McDonald's. I do not want to even try to contemplate how much supersizing I'd have to do to eat $250-worth of McD's. The folks at eHarmony think I need a date. Netflix is trying to woo me back. Pottery Barn is convinced I'm a customer. Some "swingers site" named Adult Friend Finder thinks I need "a hot and steamy Christmas." Five other companies think I need to enlarge my penis. Then there's the one that taunts me. "So you think you are smart?" this IQ test asks me. Yes, I do. But I'm not giving in to you - yet.