Unbounded Creativity, Unimaginable Applications

Creativity knows no bounds. And its applications are also unimaginable. Tonight I landed up in the Spam folder of my mailbox and got a taste of really amazing applicaitons of creativity. Presenting here are few of them:

But before I begin, here is the sensitivity disclaimer: This post is only for Mature adults. I have tried my best to retain the originality of content, which might get a bit too graphical for a sensitive soul. Apologies in advance :-).

So here we go....

1) A girl named Jenny mails me with this matter:
"Hi there,
One of your friends told me about you. My name is Amy and I live in the same town as you. Your friend told me you are single for now and I thought you are available for a chat. Feel free to contact me via my Blog because this is my Sister email address.
Sweet kisses,
Amy
http://xxxxx.blogx.ro/"

I am going to thank for lifetime this unknown friend of mine who has done such a life-saving act to me. A friend in need is friend indeed! :-)

2) This one goes with just one single line -
"Upsize your manhood! "
Man, what a sweeping statement! This guy certainly seems to be deriving a lot of inspiration from the current economic turmoil where many downsizing (or being politically correct - right-sizing) is happening. Manhood has to be upsized in such times! Come what may!

And he follows it up with another mail with populist message - "Become women's idol"
Now if you are doing such great things to manhood, one ought to become women's idol. God knows what all uses this idol will be put through :-)

3) Sergey Setegreu is offering me 60% discount in its subject line. Tempting offer, isn't it? Promptly I go to mail to find whats on offer and read this:
"Make her long for you every night.
http://controlprogress.com"
No clue about what is being discounted here 60%. But notice the url. I really respect Sergey. He must be from WHO or Govt's family planning dept., doing this great work for the humanity. May be now we can make a guess about what is being discounted here.

4) Ryan's pharmacy seems to be really interesting people to talk to. First they send me a mail with subject:
"Never be small and tiny again".
And then immediately follow it up with another one with subject:
"So big that she will be scared".
Now what do we make of this now? Girl first walks out of bedroom because it's small and tiny; and then after this guy has had this supernatural thing from Ryan's, when girl returns back, she runs away again getting scared???

5) And the Nobel prize for creative spamming goes to this mail from Zachary Mason:
Subject is - "A key to her bedroom is in your pants!!!"
And not to let you down, he follows up with a mail saying
"With these new measurements of your manliness you will dance in the sheets tll dawn"
Wattay! I am speechless!

And yes, before I close, one last one (could not resist mentioning this one)
Deesh writes to me - "Make your pants dragon huge and rock hard"

[Enough!]

Of Circled Footsteps and Soiled Leaves

A lonely walk in yellow light, yellow soiled leaves under his feet,

misty nights with damp green shadows, dark, cold and moonlit,

hollow thoughts with heavy steps, down-headed, he again heads for nowhere,

waiting not for anything, wishing nothing, feeling nothing and missing neither,

strolling not into his past, wading not through his present, neither striding into future,

just the moment, living by it, moment by moment, here there and everywhere.

 

He looks up the way ahead – brightly lit, perfectly calm, not a soul around; he feels her,

a sharp smile and bright sparkle in the eye; she looks deep into him and stirs him,

he feels her – again, he sees her footsteps besides his, feels her warmth beside him,

she leans on his shoulder and speaks that joke in his ears,

but before she finishes it she bursts into laughter on her own, and he smiles at her.

And then next moment, she comes to him again, again leans on his shoulder,

this time she speaks nothing; just holds his arm and stays close,

he does not look at her; he knows she isn’t as well,

they walk for a while and then she leaves,

she stops for a while, looks at him, and says nothing again,

and as the moon dies in the west, she turns back and walks off, off forever.

he watches her going, looking at her back, and then as she goes beyond that turn,

she is gone, and he knows not – whether he is stranded there or beyond that, she.

 

He comes to this turn every night, and waits for a while,

he feels her beyond that turn, waits for her laughter, hears it, and moves ahead,

hope leads him but his feet don’t; did he wait at that turn he doesn’t know,

maybe he did, maybe he never, but he came to it every night,

standing at turn, he still felt her – though a bit afar; and waited for world to move,

and lessen the distance, the space, and straighten the turn.

And one night, turn straightened, and he had his eyes far beyond it now,

but her voices were none, neither her warmth, and nor she,

she had left, leaving behind circled footsteps and soiled leaves!

 

Tonight he is at the same turn, but he does not turn along it,

it has been straightened for life; and now as he wades through it,

every night, not finding anything but the same lesson,

which he learns every night, which every day makes him unlearn…

a hollow thought lying low, a hollow thought standing upright,

together fill up the vacuum, with hollowness infinite,

the more he gathers, the more he scatters, and now he knows for sure

there’s no turn now, but he is stranded there forever!