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Senders of in-box porn: please, respect your elders! 2003-01-27 - 9:25 p.m.
TODAY’S SERMON: YOU’VE GOT (dirty, filthy, rotten) MAIL ------------------------------------------------- Okay, so here’s a disturbing thought. You know how you keep getting those e-mails in your hotmail account from places like “moreinches@pleaseher.com?” I just got my second one today--regardless of the fact that I am neither a man seeking to have his member enlarged nor a girl who asked that her name be added to the penis-pump company’s exclusive mailing list. Of course this business of getting trashy e-mails you didn’t ask for is nothing new, but today it made me realize something for the first time. The thing that just struck me, as I hastily deleted the penis-enlarging promise, was that these messages are probably landing in the in-boxes of many people who should not be seeing them. No, no, I am not thinking of children. I’m thinking of my 81-year-old grandpa, and my 80-year old grandmother, who, despite their octogenarian status, both have e-mail accounts. I really don’t like the thought of my grandpa walking to his computer with his cane, logging on, and seeing what Mimi Smartypants once said she saw in her in-box: a message from PUMP CUNT.com. This leads me to think about how Grandma and Grandpa used to be big CBS watchers. (Dave Letterman’s joke about CBS being programming for old people ain’t too far off the mark--that’s why it’s funny, see?) Anyway a few years back when things like “Survivor” and “Big Brother” started clogging up the airwaves, I would suddenly think of my grandparents back home sitting in their La-Z-Boys, munching popcorn and settling in to watch their nightly programs, and then tuning in to see a bunch of people jiggling in their bikini tops and pissing on each other. Doesn’t that almost make you wish we were back in Laura Ingalls’ time when Pa played the fiddle after supper and everybody danced? Or to a time when families crowded around the radio for evening entertainment? A time when people actually wrote tangible letters, rather than electrified messages that allowed the existence of things like “PUMPCUNT.com” to enter our collective conscience? Or maybe that’s just me, and you’re enjoying your “Joe Millionaire” and “Meet My Parents” just fine, thank you very much. Or maybe I’m nothing but a big hypocrite, because I just found out that I missed this one tonight, and I’m so, so pissed.
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