spam du jour

Man: Morning!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what’ve you got?

Waitress: Well, there’s egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam…

Waitress: …spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam…

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: …or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there’s spam egg sausage and spam, that’s not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don’t want ANY spam!

…Well, I don’t want any spam either; but such is the nature of 21st-century online life: not available without spam. One can but make the best of it. Maybe even say: if you’ve got it, flaunt it.

Today’s spam special

[screenshot, no functioning links]

I haven’t blacked out the pertinent contact information–unlike the previous posts, where correspondence was by default (and indeed intention) private; here, there was public intent. So everything you need is there, should you wish to avail of this gentleman’s offer, or to engage in correspondence with him on any of the topics raised–American women, non-American women, unAmerican women, women full stop… with or without spam–or the feminine or feminist metaphorical equivalent–be that a little spam or just a smidgeon on the side. As it were.

I may be a black-hearted feminist of the sort despised by Mr Rambo, but never let it be said that I’m against free information, or in favour of censorship and censoriousness.

The ad reads very interestingly, by the way, if the roles are reversed. Makes a lot of sense, and sounds very like some of the conclusions and practical suggestions of The Female Eunuch. Minus, y’ know, all that “American” business and its peculiar cultural associations–being thin, chaste, non-disgusting, etc. None of which, oddly enough, correspond at all to Americans in my ken, of either gender. Shrug.

On which happy note:

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