I don't usually like having murderous thoughts.
This is either because of my natural, if under-acknowledged, tendency towards saintliness, or a superstitious fearfulness (bad karma, what goes around comes around, and so on), but murderous thoughts come, against my saintly will, on a regular basis, provoked entirely by the amount of spam I receive these days.
Why? It's sooooooo annoying! And it's sent by people smart enough to get through spam filters made of diamond covered with reinforced concrete, but can't manage to spell Million Dollar Business Opportunity Just For You, My Dear Friend. I know they only need one poor sucker to respond and send them a shedload of life savings, but, come to think of it, who are those benighted people anyway, and why aren't their relatives looking after them better?
But today, nano-seconds before the well-worn delete button wove its magic, the fake name of the sender caught my eye, and made me smile, admittedly in a rather spiteful and unattractive way. Thank you, Mr Doodoo Abed, I defy anyone not to look at your name without sniggering. But, My Dear Friend, I bet they won't be sending you their under-mattress sockful of life savings.
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