Spam

As I have a completely awesome and massively popular blog, the spam commenters are on my ass.  This is made undoubtedly more awesome when they write something like this gem I am about to share with you.  Let it be known that this comment is so well written, I almost approved it so you all could love it the way that I do.  However, since approval of said comment would then allow this self-proclaimed reseller of high fashion jeans to comment all the time, I had to just do a gangsta copy/paste.

Are you ready?

Here we go (and the punctuation issues, spelling, etc are all original since this is a for rizzle copy/paste job):

“My spouse and i knew When i was right. My pal and I placed any bet about which web page was outstanding. I thought your webpage was far better created, but she believed this particular post with trendy design ideas was far better. We curved up 5 family members memebers who hadn’t seen possibly website just before to read them each more than. Majority chose your web site. Thanks regarding maintaing a fantastic site.”

I’m going to interpret how this is supposed to read.  (Ahem):

“My wife is annoying and bugged me to stop looking at only porn online.  After about 49 hours of searching for “girls,” (don’t worry, I live in a far away country and work for hackers, so I had the time!), my kids and I got in a fist fight over why Americans smell weird. To stop the punching, we allowed ourselves to get distracted by the internets.  Since we were already looking at other people’s bank accounts and offering them lottery earnings in exchange for their identities, we saw your blog.  We didn’t read it because our English blows, but we assume it’s good because you have a vagina which makes you funnier than most other creatures.  Thank you for letting us be creepy on your page!  Want some jeans?”

So, here’s to you High Fashion Jean Reseller.  Your crafty comment just to get your link on my blog was so well written, I almost approved you.  Almost.  And, in answer to your question, why yes.  I would love some jeans.

Moral of the Story: I’m a Prince from Africa.