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SPAM Poetry

Spammers are trying all kinds of techniques to get through SPAM filters these days. From putting spaces between letters of the words (get some v i a g a r a!) to deliberate misspellings (l0west prices on M3DS) to what I like to call SPAM Poetry. This lovely poem appeared at the bottom of an email asking me if I wanted to “see some fucking swingers”:

His brothers fancy gun is angry.

Any little expensive smart mp3 player smells.

Any smart expensive gun stands-still and perhaps whose red house run or maybe our children white noisy round-shaped bluish camera fidgeting.

Their fancy forg got an idea.

A bluish pensil falls.

Our children silver balloon calculates.

His round omprella fidgeting.

Her daughters white bicycle is angry the time that our children tall camera prepare for fight.

Her daughters red underwares calms-down.

Any given purple sofa is thinking or maybe her daughters white computer snores.

Her slopy stupid white red ram calms-down.

Our children round-shaped ipaq smells.

Our children golden golden pensil lies.

Her tall bottle snores.

His brothers soft sony sleeps or maybe mine expensive fancy spoon falls.

Her daughters well-crafted bicycle run and perhaps the bluish expensive shining printer stands-still.

Her daughters tall purple forg stares.

Our well-crafted silver book lies.

A given white omprella looks around however, her expensive sofa smiles.

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