The Hockey Player Sells a Blood Clot

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Below is the text of an email that is by far the funniest and most lucidly surreal piece of spam to yet make it past my filters in all my years playing in the fields of the net.

Spam like this commands respect. I wish I got an email like this every day. I can hardly agree more that “an annoying graduated cylinder, a tuba player toward a power drill, and the demon are what made America great” (emphasis mine):

An annoying graduated cylinder, a tuba player toward a power drill, and the demon are what made America great! When you see the anomaly, it means that the false reactor hesitates. A loyal defendant throws an overwhelmingly treacherous freight train at the avocado pit defined by a cheese wheel. The hockey player sells a college-educated blood clot to some skyscraper.

The orbiting inferiority complex avoids contact with a rattlesnake. When you see a grand piano living with a fire hydrant, it means that a vaporized mastadon daydreams. The senator gets stinking drunk, and the freight train meditates; however, an inexorably paternal parking lot buys an expensive gift for a sandwich. The frustrating bartender trades baseball cards with the carpet tack defined by a spider. Most people believe that a support group can be kind to a graduated cylinder, but they need to remember how slyly the abstraction living with a roller coaster gets stinking drunk.

This reminds me quite a lot of “The Great Panjandrum,” a nonsense poem written to test the actor Charles Macklin, who claimed to be able to read any paragraph through one time and then recite it back, verbatim. I believe that “Panjandrum” stumped him.

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