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OH FOR THE DAYS WHEN âSPAM' WAS JUST A MONTY PYTHON SKETCH Thanks to the internet my wife is a very happy woman. My penis is now forty-seven feet long it stays erect for weeks at a time and it is garlanded by hundreds of genuine Rolex watches acquired with the millions I have won in various Albanian lotteries and the billions generously deposited in my accounts by the grateful executors of the wills of innumerable African tribal chiefs all mysteriously deceased along with their entire extended families in improbably gruesome lawnmower accidents in Liechtenstein. My account with Lloyds has been suspended. (I don't have one.) My wife's breasts enlarge and reduce, spontaneously, as we use our 95% discounted software to gaze at the pictures of our free timeshare apartments enjoying continuous multiple orgasms whilst admiring our genuine Chinese historical artefacts purchased online from Hong Kong. Our garden is full of imported rubber. Not rubber sex toys Letras de cancionesor even rubber boots just: rubber. I have more free Coldplay MP3s than you could wave a suicide note at. I also have Kate Moss Suction Power. I don't know what that is, but I am hoping it may be useful next time the toilet needs unblocking. I now know the Cyrillic alphabet and the Polish for âare you embarrased about your size?' Every morning, a new surrealist word juxtaposition appears in my inbox as the spammers seek to avoid the filter. It turk may bake! Crabmeat be Paris! Out evoke in robins! Decomposing lark's vomit engulf Crystal Palace! (ok, I mad the last one up.) And, to prove that truth is indeed stranger than fiction in our brave new world, my website is recommended as one of the top fifty stockbroking sites on many search engines. Now that really is Pythonesque. From Letras Mania