I Lost My Spam Virginity

Today is a very special day. For today I am no longer a boy; I am now a man, with all of a man's strengths and weaknesses. I, ladies and gentlemen, received spam.

They left no return address. 

What makes this spam so special is its rather cryptic message, which took some time to translate. Witness the most confusing paragraph in the history of the English language:

Meet The List

If there's one thing I should really get round to doing it's writing these posts more than two days in advance, because as soon as anything gets in the way of my writing, then all shit goes to hell or something similar.

However all dogs do definitely go to heaven.

The person that I'm going to use as a scapegoat for my not finishing off the long awaited Film Facts Part 2: The Factening, is Gabe Newell. He founded Valve. Valve runs Steam. Steam has sales. The Steam Christmas Sale had FTL: Faster Than Light on it for under a pound. And now I can't stop playing it.

Upgrade screens: The crystal meth of video games.

This along with my constant tweaking of the blog layout, as you can see by it's now greatly improved sexy sexiness (it's so sexy), and the creation of an unhealthy number of favicons that I intend to cycle through has led to a certain downtime in my usually industrious writing escapades. It's not that I'm saying I was distracted by pretty shiny things but yes, I was. Also by the agonising frustration of being lasered to death by fucking drones for the 60th time. Hours of epic battle followed by my poor spaceship being laser-raped by robots really sucks the time out of your day.