So here we are, nearly 200 years after Beethoven’s 9th Symphony, and nearly 50 years since we first sent a team of humans to walk on another celestial body, and still, still, there are people on the planet who have nothing better to do than to trick other people into some sort of scam that will earn its perpetrators a few pennies. In fairness, the originators of spam should be complimented on realising that 6,000,000,000 x 0.000001% is still a reasonable figure, especially if you multiply the answer by $0.02 (or whatever the hell the going rate for viewing an online advertisement is).
We all know at this stage that the Prince of Rhodesia has been ousted by a military coup, and he needs a Western bank account to deposit his Kingdom’s savings and is willing to give a charitable 1% of his country’s GNP to the account owner, but what we didn’t know is that there are swathes of attractive young ladies who live locally, are scientists, and just so happen to have a huge interest in your daily life.
And so we enter the world of Twitter Spam, where these young sirens wait for you to discover the secret of their heart’s desire, which is embedded in a Tiny URL, would you believe. I’m sorry to have to do this to you all, but here is the supremely sarcastic guide that shows you when to realise that the girl of your dreams is a 35 year old dude sitting in his boxers hoping to attract nothing more than 10 seconds of your idle time:
1) Hey, don’t I know you? God, she looks just like that hot Indian girl from Slumdog Millionaire! What are the odds! She even went through the bother of dressing up for her profile pic like she was on TV, or something! Imagine what she’d look like on our wedding day! You’d look less suspicious if you sketched the profile pic with some crayons.
2) What a username! She was so eager to sign on to Twitter and get to know me she just mashed the keyboard with her presumably large breasts, or developed some script to generate the name for her (in which case she’s a genius with a massive rack). Or maybe it stands for ‘Easily Excited end Aroused 1’ (she must have a South African accent – how exotic!). Otherwise, requires more effort.
3) She’s provided a link to her webpage! Maybe I’ll get to know more about her! What’s this? She owns her own money-making business! Boy, she doesn’t want me to leave! All these pop-ups sure give a clear message: “I want your love!”
4) & 5) Did…. did twitter get these numbers mixed up? Surely she’s more popular than this! NO! GROW ANOTHER BRAIN! If the spammer’s haven’t copped on that the not being able to change the standard Twitter layout stops you from hiding what a fake ass you are, then… well, oh, we can’t really do anything, can we.
6) How does one type out mental retardation? Like, Christy Brown stuff? Y’know when you wave your hands together and stick your jaw out and right, and make moaning sounds? Yeah, that’s what 6) is. Christ, I think my cat could make up a more convincing Twitter feed. Although it would mainly be about how tickly her tummy is, and why she prefers chicken to ham.