Spam.

I think I’m going to go ballistic about spam. Lately I’ve been getting several hundred e-mails a day offering me all sorts of pills, potions and other mists and assorted self improvement items. Then we have the wainkers telling me my Key Bank ATM card expired. Of course it did, I closed the account in 1988 when I moved to Massachusetts. It’s funny how these things catch up to you.

I’m thinking of relying solely on the .Mac e-mail account and getting rid of my jpnearl.com e-mail account for a month or two so that I can tell the spam to basically shove off. But then I feel like the spammers have actually won.

Do people really believe these spam messages or are they just out there now to annoy people? I can’t imagine anyone really believing that they can forward an e-mail and get paid by Microsoft for doing it. Hello? Where did Microsoft get your mailing address to send the check? Please people, think before you click. I blame AOL. They’re the ones that brought the internet to the masses with their caps lock nimrods and ridiculous abbreviations. Personally, I don’t believe a single person that says LOL to something I type. I find it hard to believe that they actually laughed out loud. They might have smiled, perhaps giggled, but if I was “LOL” funny I’d be doing stand-up as the warm up act for Rosie O’Donnell or something, not sitting here venting in a blog that probably no one reads.

Spam? Feed it to me, don’t send it to me.

Dreams.

It’s a little after six in the morning and I’m fully showered, dressed and ready to kick off my day. I’m sitting here, in complete darkness save for the light from my computer, still a little dazed from the sound sleep I had last night and the ensuing dreams that accompanied it.

Earl is always amazed when I tell him about my dreams almost every morning. He’s surprised that I can remember most of my dreams. Is that normal? I remember my dreams from almost every night and every catnap I take. Some dreams are very vivid and memorable in their detail. On the other hand some are very foggy, almost as if I had watched the action through a thick haze or participated covered in molasses. Nevertheless, if I can’t remember the detail of the dream, I can remember the impression that it made upon me and how I felt or currently feel because of it.

I think dreaming is the main reason I love sleeping. For me it’s like going to a movie where I’m the star of an infinite number of shows and I have no idea what’s going to be playing on the big screen.

Goodness, I’m weird.