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Satire Wire's New Spam Poets Crowned
Yorrike writes: "With over 600 entries, the winners of Satire Wire's Second Annual Poetry Competition have been announced. I guess my adaptation of Rime of the Ancient Mariner didn't make the cut ;)" Nothing like some howling laughter to cut through one's baleful bellows of pure spam-related rage.
Stupid spam wasn't bad enough, now I realize my mailbox is full of poetry.
ew.
grossness.
Yep, prizes galore!
From the Contest Rules:
PRIZES
Now don't you wish you'd been paying attention when this thing was announced?
Living better through chemicals
except entries must be cutups of Anonymous Coward postings instead.
The 23rd Spam
The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures,
He leadeth me beside the still waters,
He restoreth my credit and consolidateth my debts,
For as little as $1,750,
If I act now.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: for thou art with me,
Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
And can now be 50 Percent Larger in Three Weeks.
Guaranteed.
Thou preparest a table before me
In the presence of mine enemies,
Thou annointest my head with oil,
My cup runneth over.
But as an added bonus,
I will receive $1,000.00 cash,
If I complete thy online registration form today.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me,
All the days of my life,
And I will dwell forever,
In the House of the Lord,
Which I shall refinanceth,
To take advantage,
Of the lowest mortgage rates in years.
El Karma: excelente(principalmente la suma de moderación hecha a los comentarios de los usuarios)
RIME OF THE ANCIENT SPAMMER
by Yorrike
It is an ancient spammer
And he spamith one in three
By thy lies and undisclosed recipiants
Now wherefore spam'st thou me ?
The open relays are opened wide, /dev/null.
And payest I the toll;
The conditions are met, the filter set,
May'st ye >
He sends to me html e-mail,
'Briteny Naked!' quoth he.
'Hold off! Unsubcribe me, spamming loon!'
Eftsoons more he sends me.
He sends to all, his wiley claims
In bulk, CPUs stand still
And grindith away like a 386
The spammer hath his will
The spammed net user sat in his chair
He cannot choose but ignore;
And thus rants on the ancient spam
That cursed old spammer
'The mail was wrote, the bandwidth chocked,
Merrily did we send
Open relay dost fit the bill,
one million, e-mail then end.
The spam dost went over the web
Through smtp went he!
And sat in all those pop3 queues
Waiting to be seen.
Higher and higher the spam count rose
Till overflowed inboxes--'
The spammed net user here pressed delete,
To rid those error boxes.
The hard disk drive was running hot
Though by a fan was cool;
Shaking his head the user speakith
'Damn this spammed mail spool!'
The spammed user hath pressed delete
Yet the inbox still was full
And thus ranted on and on the spam
That cursed old spammer
'Click here to get your new credit card :
With up to $1,000 limit
Hot teen babes are waiting for you'
But the user right clickith and bin it.
With constant sound, right cliking now
Annoyed the user with down sloped brow
Spam hath become his one true foe
Towards the keybord he wackith his head
The beeps came fast, loud roared the blast
Away from the PC he fled.
But still in the spam came high and fast
And tales of fortune it told
And bollocks knee-high, came flooding in
All in caps and bold.
And through the traps, the header caps
Did sendmail leave uncleaned
Nor shapes of mail sent by his friends
The spam was all between
The spam was here, the spam was there,
The spam was all around
The hard drive growled, and roared and howled,
Like Quake2 deathmatch sounds!
At length the spammed net user return
The battle was not lost
Selected he spam, up and down
Into the trash then tossed
He cleared the trash he ne'er had cleared /dev/null !
And did cycle the CPU
The spam did split with thunder-fit;
All moved to
The user smiled, if for a while
his inbox cleared to ground
But to his now utter distaste
The message bell did sound
Yell he loud at his filter shroud
He nay had slayne his foe
With might and fury, kick his box
and stubbith his big toe
'Death to thee, cursed spammer !
This toe bound pain shall pass!--
And then shall I find where you live;
And come to kick your arse.'
Looks can be deceiving. Or CAN they?
Shall I compare thee to bits of stone?
/dev/null contain all your tries
You serve less purpose, and cause much more trouble
The stone doth stay when roughest winds are gone
But when IPs are traced, you're already on the double
Sometimes too slow the mail servers are
And often is their total bandwith dimm'd
By thine empty headers who bring far
Less money than to you it must have seemed
But thy eternal spam-fest will not pass
Nor will you lose those d4rk-IPz j00 0wn
Nor shall
To make some money, since your work's really worth none
So long as l4m3rs live and traffic's free
So long lives spam, and spam gives life to thee
Have you ever wanted to become a Spam poet?
Having trouble finding exactly the line you need?
Your search is over!
You too can be an award winning spam poet!
All for the low low price of $25 we will include a single line of your choice in GENUINE spam!
Guaranteed distribution of over 10 MILLION E-mail addresses!
As a free service we will add YOUR E-mail address to our lists, and you'll receive your very own copy of spam containing your selected line!
Ask about our bulk discounts for 3 or more lines!
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- - You can't take something off the Internet! That's like trying to take pee out of a swimming pool.