Usually spam is eminently resistible. The pleadings to “dear one” from some imaginary sadsack in Africa, the exhortations to increase the size of a male member that is absent from my anatomy, the photos of strange couplings that sound more repellent than appealing.
But today I got some spam that—for one brief shining moment—made me experience a tiny urge to respond. It was entitled “Cute Pug Puppies for Adoption,” and it went on to describe an entire story: deceased grandmother’s Valentine’s Day-acquired pug accidentally impregnated by another pug who happened to live next door (as luck would have it!), yada yada yada.
Pugs. What can I say? They’re a weakness of mine, along with dogs in general. Maybe it’s pugs’ resemblance to Churchill, maybe it’s their curly little tails, maybe it’s something from my childhood, but—well, although giving in to this impulse fills me with shame, here you are:
There. I feel better now that I got that out of my system.