The flash drive with the pictures for my next post is at home today, due to an entirely non-made up story involving unicorns, volcanoes, and an escaped Mayan god of the underworld. Enjoy this instead.
I have a coworker who's constantly bewildered by spam. Despite his sharp intellect, he won't abandon his Yahoo account. Consequently, he sees a lot of spam.
He'll read the subject lines from the emails out loud, carefully enunciating each poor spelling. He can't believe anyone falls for spam so many years after its advent. When I explained to him that the elderly are the most common victims, he laughed and derisively shook his head. "Maybe if it came through postal mail," he explained.
Grabbing a pen and a stack of Post-Its, I quickly sketched something. "You mean like this," I said, showing him my drawing:
He nodded. "Definitely. I'd give that ghost my bank account number."