In a spam email today hawking replicas of Rolex watches, Tiffany bracelets, and Louis Vuitton ballpoint pens, the sender included this unseemly prose fragment in an attempt to slip through the spam filter:

An hour later, full of dope and drifting off to sleep, the sound of the howling wind now soothing rather than frightening, he thought: Im not going to escape. With that thought in mind he found the pulse in his left thigh, and though he had never injected himself in his life, he did it efficiently now, even eagerly.

So, naturally, we ordered one of everything the spammer had to offer.