I was born in Minnesota. So was SPAM! I'm okay with that. A little diced Spam scrambled with some eggs? People like that. I haven't had Spam in...oh...I don't know...twenty years? Twenty-five? But I understand that people like Spam. Some people even collect Spam memorabilia (Spamorabilia? Did I just coin a word? Cool!). I wouldn't go that far. I'm Betty Crocker, not Samantha Spam.
Anyway. Spam. Hormel. Austin, Minnesota. It's all okay with me.
Spam on my blog? NOT OKAY with me. Nothing sucks donkey rocks more than seeing that one, two, three, ten(!) people have commented on a blog entry, only to discover that every last stinkin' self-serving one of them is biologically removed from pond scum only due to the fact that there is no pond here. The Space Age Housewife is not a violent person. I thrive on vintage aprons and favorable comparisons to Donna Stone, not Sylvester Stallone. Spam tests my pacifist nature, though. SOMEONE is gonna wind up Mulligan stew, and it ain't gonna be pretty!
I should be baking pumpkin bread instead of ranting about good-for-nothing blog spammers, but uncapping the steam is a good idea from time to time.
Besides, I just dropped a boat load of money - in the four figures - to prepay for my son's upcoming oral surgery. Ouch.
Maybe I ought to bake after all. At least send out for pizza. I deserve it.
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1 comment:
I wanted to leave you an honest to goodness comment!
Down with spammers! I didn't like having to do it, but I finally added the verification. Idiot spammers.
"Have you got anything without SPAM?"
"Well, there's SPAM egg sausage and SPAM, that's not got much SPAM in it."
/geek
xoxo
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