A slice of Spam

My day's beginnings are like many, I suspect.

After breakfast, I go to a little room I have designated as a sacred place for meditation, journalling and contemplation, a place to ease my sanity back into my head when I become too disturbed by the frightful machinations of the insane that we have put in power.

I then ease into emails, thankful for a spam-catcher that takes a full 98%, and counting, of all my incoming emails and deems them garbage. Fully 50% of these trash-emails have the heading "She wants a better sex?" and I wonder in what non-English speaking nation this email has originated and continued blissfully on sliding twenty five of this same old question daily into my ever thickening spam-folder for well-nigh five years now.

It's the 'a' that does it for me. *A* better sex. She would like to be a man? Is that a better sex? Or possibly androgynous or haemophrodite? Would that be a better sex for the lady (whoever she is)?

Who opens these emails anyway? Is it worth the spammers' efforts? I've never wanted a better sex but perhaps some women do. Unhappy with their naughty bits, wanting to trade up to something a little more refined, more classy and upscale. A testicle or three. An extra nipple, more streamlined labia.

Or maybe men open them, baffled as to why the little woman is unhappy with what she's got and hoping to help in this trade-in for improvement.

One of the great conundrums of this IT world.

And, erm, no thanks, I'm really happy with my gender assignment.