Spam-talker: n. Obviously mentally ill individual who spouts a continuous stream of gibberish, at full-volume, with little regard for the people around him/her.

Name inspired by 2 kb spam mail, from unknown senders, e.g. “Ella Guru,” usually accompanied by the subject, “hi,” or "Re: hi."

Text of email is comprised of phrases which are incomprehensible to those who do not speak fluent Subliminal Advertiseze, e.g. effluvia snake-nails blueberry toast packets … three square meals from bottled peroxide … tooth vacuum rumble shaker penis penis penis … last all night long … amorosi dei giorni que tesoro blah … fuck HARD the motherfucker where’s the beer?

See also: fucking nut job.

We’ve all received those emails in our junk folders.

This spam-talker had a really interesting voice and cadence, and his nonsense would have been musical had it been accompanied by Tom Waits or Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band. People would have paid good money and worn ridiculous berets to hear it, snapping their fingers in appreciation of his surreal poetry. The man I saw today had nothing to accompany him but the bus transfer and pack of Newport Menthols he held in his fist. As such, he was conspicuously ignored by the rest of the passengers.

Now, there is a hierarchy of seating on public transportation. When the bus is nearly empty, seating is first-come-first-serve, but as the seats fill, The Fit are expected to relinquish their seats for the sakes of pregnant women, little old ladies, the physically handicapped, etc. If, say, the bus is full of little old ladies, and a pregnant woman boards, a judgment call is involved. Such as, if there’s an able-bodied senior on the bus, and the woman who boards is pregnant with a whole litter, the expectant mother should be able to sit.

Think of it as a reversed Survival of the Fittest. Imagine all of the passengers on the bus are being hunted by a pack of lions. Realistically, who would be first to get picked off? That person gets first seat on a crowded bus.

Spam-talkers transcend the entire hierarchy.

It don't matter if the bus is full of African American/Seminole, albino, quadruple-amputee hermaphrodites, whose remaining trunks have each been shoved into separate roller-skates remote-controlled by joysticks held in their teeth, and they’re each carrying an Immaculately Conceived fetus of the next Messiah.

If a spam-talker gets on the bus, that poor, sick sumbitch can sit wherever the hell he wants.

~ Last Five Entries ~

Moths, and Relative Nonsense - 08.18.05

I Finally Have Internet Access in my Bedroom. But, No Ashtray. - 08.09.05

Here I Am - 08.02.05

One-Armed Paper Hanger Earns her Wings - 07.29.05

Sugar & Lemon - 07.28.05

---

BUY JEN'S BOOK! BUY IT! DO IT!

---

BUY DEAN'S BOOK, TOO! YOU KNOW YOU WANNA! SERIOUSLY.

---

««« Chicago Blogs Webring »»»

---

email:

---

words © luvabeans, 2003 - 2004