You Call Them Spammers - My People Call Them 'Punjab-Heads'

September 6, 2004

You Call Them Spammers — My People Call Them ‘Punjab-Heads’

You know, I hate spammers — I hate them with a white-hot searing passion, just like the rest of you probably do. I generally think they should all be stripped naked, dipped in beaver pee, and thrown into a big pit full of spikes and rubbing alcohol and rabid gonad-nibbling weasels. I’m sure many of you feel the same way… more or less. Possibly without the weasels.

Anyway, much as I loathe the annoying bastards, I’ll be damned if sometimes they don’t provide a bit of entertainment, albeit inadvertantly. I’ve been getting some fun ones lately, many of them with the subject line mentioning some chick’s ‘ponanny’.

Now, first of all, I don’t know exactly what’s going on with this girl’s hoohah — something’s getting crammed into it, or shooting out of it, or maybe it’s drinking a glass of water while the dummy sings… I don’t know. I really didn’t read that far.

Frankly, I had trouble getting past the word itself — ‘ponanny’. I’m more or less familiar with the term, but it’s not exactly a common genitalial euphemism, at least not in the circles I run in. I don’t know about you folks. Maybe you’re in some sort of ‘ponanny circle’ or other. But not me.

Anyway, it got my attention, just by being there. Didn’t get my attention enough to make me open the stupid email, of course, but I was drawn in. Curious. Piqued, even.

It was around that time that I realized that the spelling looked all wrong, too. To be honest, I’ve never seen it written before, but it just didn’t look right. ‘Ponanny’ — I’d say that like this: ‘poh-NEH-nee‘. ‘Ponanny’. Sounds like a penniless babysitter — ‘I can’t pay for that! I’m just a po’ nanny! I’m just a po’ nanny!‘

Or… um, not. Yeah. That might be stretching a bit. But you get the idea. Po-nanny.

See, but the way I’ve always heard it, it would sound more like ‘poo-NAH-nee‘. I’d pictured it with a more… exotic spelling, like: punani. Now isn’t that more exciting? Punani. Pu-nani. No mention of nannies, or anything. Much better. It looks like a word we borrowed from some other language — from somewhere in India, maybe. ‘Punani’. Yeah. Definitely Indian. Which would make you think that ‘punjab’ was the male equivalent. Which it isn’t, but it sounds like it could be. I can almost hear the Baliwood porn dialogue now:

Manjula: ‘Hey! Sanjeev! You’ve got your punjab in my punani!‘

Sanjeev: ‘Oh, no, no, Manjula! It is you who has your punani all over my punjab!‘

Manjula: ‘Siva be praised! Two great tastes that taste great together!‘

Sanjeev: ‘Oh, my, yes! Let us now lie together in the ‘Emerald Lotus’ position — that’s page thirty-four in the Kama Sutra, you know — and then dance in celebration with all of our friends in the village! Huzzah!‘

(Okay, so maybe it wouldn’t go like that. How the hell should I know? How much Indian porn do you think I watch?

Um… don’t answer that. Matter of fact, don’t even think very hard about it. Please.)

So, what the hell was I talking about, anyway? And how did it end in porn? And why does everything I talk about here end in porn? Meh.

Anyway, I think the point was that spam isn’t always all bad. Spammers still suck ass, but the mail itself can provide a giggle. Or a chuckle. Or an outlandish, fevered concoction of an unlikely sex scene in a movie that’ll never see the intercontinental light of day. I don’t know what it all means, really. All I know is that now I’m hungry for Indian food. I think I’ll go for the jungle curry. With emerald lotus sauce. Rrrrrowr!

Be good, people. I’m out.