I get the best spam

I don't know what it is about me, but I always seem to find myself in the wrong target audiences.

Walking down The Strip, the "lady card" guys are always shoving their lady-covered cards at me.

Am I really their target market? Do the guys I walk next to look that gay? Or is it obvious that I wear the pants in the presumed relationship, and therefore, would be the one who would make the decision to, ahem, spice things up and give one of the ladies featured on the cards a call/try?

Whatever.

And I've already blogged about Facebook's stupid ad strategy.

Yet my e-mail spam also seems to have me confused for a guy. But unlike the hawkers' lady cards, the misguided spam I get makes me laugh. In fact -- and dare I say -- I both enjoy it and look forward to it.

Not that I'm looking to "keep (my) rod iron for hours," (iron-hard? maybe, but rod iron? No thanks.) "unleash (my) male power," or try some "free penis pills."

Some of them are downright hilarious. Some of the recent gems:
"Britney naked again!" (oh, no, not again...)
"Take this, my Don Juan, so your body won't let you down at hot rendezvous" (ooh! rendezvous! sounds classy...)
"The size of can of Coke -- believe us it's no joke. (it rhymes so it must me true.)

I swear I'm not making this up. Don't believe me? Check out the screen shot of my junk mail filter.