Today in Montana Poetry Day so I thought I would join in the fun with a little offering of my own. I dedicate it to New Zealand Post – we received a second copy of their wretched survey the other day.
A curse on all spammers
(This can be sung to the tune of ‘A Policeman’s Lot is not a Happy One, with sincere apologies to Gilbert and Sullivan)
When your inbox is full up with stupid spam
Stupid spam
And your modem has got treacle in its guts
In its guts
When your favourite website’s gone down yet again
Yet again
You think that finally you will go nuts
Will go nuts
It is then your thoughts turn to cursing spammers
Cursing spammers
You curse each and every spammer in the world
In the world
You imagine whacking fingers with hot hammers
With hot hammers
And picture heights from which they should be hurled
Should be hurled
You imagine anatomic amputations
Amputations
You wish horrible diseases on their heads
On their heads
You hope they are attached by evil monsters
Evil monsters
And that there are live piranhas in their beds
In their beds
You wish them lethal currents down their wires
Down their wires
(But let the fatal moment not be quick)
Not be quick
You hope for something hot and sharp and pointed
Sharp and pointed
Up their fundamental orifices stick
‘fices stick
Perhaps the worst thing that can be wished upon them
Wished upon them
Is a diet of their own annoying stuff
Annoying stuff
Their computers spewing never ending spam
Ending spam
Despite despairing cries of that’s enough!
That’s enough!
So spammers electronic also postal
Also postal
I have got you in my never failing sights
Failing sights
Just remember that I’m really out to get you
Out to get you
And my curse will get you one of these dark nights
These dark nights
