By Dorothy Rosby

I have now reached a point in my online existence where I’m receiving more spam than regular e-mail. In fact, I’m receiving more spam than regular email and snail mail combined. In fact, I’m receiving more spam than regular email, snail mail, phone calls, and greetings on the street combined.

Do I sound annoyed? I’m not at all. I believe spammers have a lot to teach us about effective marketing. Really. Don’t let the fact that they can’t spell fool you. Clearly spam is the smart way to go if you want to sell a product, market a service, or acquire other people’s credit card numbers. Between deleting messages, I’ve picked up the following clever strategies to help you do it:

1. First you must choose a pseudonym. This is important. If your product is like many others sold with spam, you may not want your mother to know you’re selling it.

There are three approaches you can use when choosing your alias. First you could try an unusual name. People can’t help but be drawn to those with exotic-sounding names like I. M. Floating, Opulence Here’s How or Nicoteenia Caffeinia. But a common name like David Smith or Jill Jones can also be effective because the recipient can’t help but wonder, “Wasn’t she in my fifth-grade class?” Or, “Did I meet him at my niece’s wedding?” Obviously if people think they know you, they’re more likely to give you their credit card number.

Finally, you could choose an organizational-sounding name. I know I can’t resist Prize Notification Department and Internet Regulator no matter how many times I see them—or how they’re spelled.

2. You’ll need to create attention-grabbing subject lines. Here are some creative examples that worked on me: people say you’re really smart, straight talk about hair transplants, and want to own your own spaceship? How could I not open the message with the intriguing subject line “Discover family DNA heritage at holiday prices” or the clever “I think you will like this as much as I think you will.”

But be careful you don’t promise too much in your subject line. “Be wealthy beyond your wildest dreams” might leave your readers disappointed with your content since you have no way of knowing how wild their dreams actually are. And also try to avoid turning your recipients off. “Thicker hair in 30 seconds” is frightening even to the hairless.

3. Flatter your recipient. I never get tired of seeing “You deserve to be rich,” “Your life experience alone is worth a Ph.D.,” and “You would look even more ravishing in a new Swiss replica watch!”

4. Don’t fret about the mechanics of your writing. You can draw attention away from any errors by using plenty of CAPLITAL LETERS AND EXCAVATION PONTS!!!!!!!!!! See what I mean?

5. Forget everything you’ve ever heard about target marketing. Spread your message like dandelion seeds in the wind. Just type “CONFIDENTIAL” or “You’ve been selected from 30 million people” at the top of your message and all the recipients will believe they’re the only one you’ve contacted—even the women receiving your barbershop perfect sideburns message.

6. Finally, and most importantly, don’t give up. Don’t ever give up. Be relentless. Be prolific. Be a pain.

There you have it: the six magical rules used by effective spammers. Trust me; these really work. They must. They KEEP!!!!ON!!!! DOING IT!!!!!!

Dorothy Rosby is a blogger and humor columnist whose column appears regularly in publications throughout the West and Midwest. She’s the author of four books of humorous essays all available locally at Mitzi’s Books and on Amazon.

By Dorothy Rosby

Recently, a friend gave me one of those grippers you use to open jar lids. She said she’d found it at a thrift shop and, remembering I’d said I needed one, she’d purchased it for me. I thanked her profusely. How nice to be thought of. Except that I didn’t remember telling her I needed it.

Not that I don’t need it. It’s just that up until that moment, with the gripper staring me in the face, it had not occurred to me how much I need it.

My friend seemed proud of herself for being so thoughtful. She proceeded to tell me her acquisition story, as bargain shoppers often do, and I pretended to listen while I racked my brain. Had I made any comment that would have led her to believe I was having trouble opening jars? I couldn’t remember a single thing. And yet I have had trouble opening jars. If I hadn’t mentioned I needed a gripper, I should have.

My friend was now carrying on about how often she uses her own gripper, as do her mother, her sister, and the neighbor down the street. And then it occurred to me. What if my friend has me confused with someone else? Now that person will go on struggling with her kosher dills and grape jelly, and it will be my fault. What a thing to have on my conscience!

But what could I do? By that time we were a good ten minutes into the conversation; a conversation in which I had enthusiastically thanked my friend for her thoughtfulness and agreed that yes, I could really use the gripper. It seemed too late to say, “I’m sorry. Now that I think about it, I think you must have me confused with someone else who’s lost their grip.”

But I didn’t have the courage. Instead I offered to pay her for the gripper which I hadn’t planned on buying. I was concerned that if I paid her, she’d start bringing me all sorts of things I need, but don’t know it yet. I offered anyway, and she graciously declined. It was a gift; a gift that was probably meant for someone else. I took it and use it often, always wondering, am I forgetful or am I a liar? Don’t answer that.

Meanwhile, my friend hasn’t brought me any other useful kitchen items—or anything else for that matter. Maybe she’s onto me. Or maybe I haven’t mentioned I need anything else, in which case, I could really use some wooden spoons.

I’m sure this story serves to illustrate a point, though I’m not sure what it is. Maybe just that the longer you wait, the harder it gets to speak up. Whether it’s telling your neighbor that it was you who reported their barking dog to animal control. Or telling your parents that you’re the one who burned down the garage when you were 14. These are just examples, mind you. We had a carport when I was growing up, and it’s still standing.

 I swear my delay was only an attempt to buy thinking time. But I waited too long, and I certainly didn’t want to embarrass us both after we’d carried on like that. Plus, I was afraid she’d want the gripper back.

Dorothy Rosby is a blogger and humor columnist whose column appears regularly in publications throughout the West and Midwest. She’s the author of four books of humorous essays all available locally at Mitzi’s Books and on Amazon.