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After several months of neglect I decided, tonight, to clean out the comments backlog over at FP. I did this manually, knowing that amidst all the Russian election hackers and China-Bots there might be real people trapped in the Spamville jail. There were. Three. Three out of maybe 700… The good news is that hopefully this will train the WP AI (Perrin hopeful of AI…) to kill this crap automatically in the future. It’s still a new site with a really new reboot on theme.

That works. I’ve been knocking down the spammers, here, for almost 6 years. I rarely get any now. Double-checked tonight and confirmed – only 9 POS attempts over the same time period.

Back to FP, there was more good news! Along with all that shit about free money, porn, free porn money, Costco generic Viagra (who knew?), cat paintings(??), virus invitations, incomprehensible gibberish, and foreign criminal solicitations, I found the most charming spam I have ever encountered.

I found this:

(Posted without gmail address. And, don’t y’all go surfing for the house finisher…).

It was so touching I almost let it pass. Are these not those lost Chicago lyrics we’ve heard legend tell of?

You’re the meaning in my life,

You’re my inhalation…

And to think my prepper shenanigans would make a reclusive web logger run out of the post. Hope he’s (she’s) (it’s?) not AWOL or something. Or maybe he/she/it has given up the crack pipe for whatever the hell post he/she/it/zir was inhaling on there. No idea.

But I do know this gem of a post, highly reflective of this “highly respected web log,” rarely causing run outs, beats the slow Sunday evening alternative: commentary on Emmanuel Macron’s visit to the DC funny farm…

Night!

 

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Sputnik Int’l. 

 

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