Run for the hills.
This is a real email I received via a work address:
'Dear Madam;
I was wondering what it would take to convince you to give me your phone number. Would it help if I told you a way to shut Germaine Greer up and have her hanging on your every word. To start with you visit the Pubmed search engine at www.pubmed.gov and type in "clinical depression, cyclooxygenase-2". The entry with thirteen authors is the one to look at. You click on the rectangular yellow icon on the left. This approach depends on the fact that Greer has had a lifelong struggle with depression. I think you will be able to work out that clinical depression features over-active cyclooxygenase-2. After that you do a search for "cyclooxygenase-2, inhibition, flavonoid." One paper has a title including the word "luteolin", which is in olive oil. Or you could type in "cyclooxygenase-2, inhibition, curcumin." I have written a book which tells you more.
Yours sincerely,
V***** T******'
1. It's not spam, I swear. He used my real name.
2. I'm not sure I've ever expressed a desire to have Germaine Greer hanging on my every word. At this point in life I'm pleased I met her and survived with all my limbs intact.
3. I can't bring myself to visit the Pubmed search engine and follow instructions. I just can't. For the love of all that is good and holy.
4. If I may get this straight - and to be honest, I'm somewhat in the dark here - I'm supposed to cunningly prepare Germaine Greer dishes heavily laden with olive oil at which point her depression will be cured and she will follow me around in reverent silence for which I will be so incredibly grateful I'll give my phone number to the man who made it all possible. Is that it?
What happened to mix tapes? What happened to saying it with flowers? What happened to the slow burn of cerebral courtship?
5. I'M FRIGHTENED. VERY VERY FRIGHTENED.
202 days til the next election.
Comments
And now you've blabbed the secret to everyone!
Mmmmmmm, gonna catch me a Greer.....
What are you going to do with her when you nab her exactly, Ben H?
This sentence:
I think you will be able to work out that clinical depression features over-active cyclooxygenase-2
is quite excellent.
I think the rest is about feeding Germaine an oily curry of some description.
*yawn*
I think it's an email from Germaine herself, trying to trick you (and possibly others
I would be very frightened too!
*prepares deep fryer*
fits, your suitor evokes a image of Beaker from the Muppets.
unfortunate that his poor substitute for a mix tape theory/book doesn't quite have the scientific back-up as yet. nice idea though - eat your way to contentment.
so this is how pointy-heads set out to impress ladies..... fascinating.
How very disturbing.
You should reply, directing him to www.vic.health.gov.au. Click on the red brain surgery icon at the top ....
It's an interesting approach. Wonder what his book is called?
You should just make Germaine Greer a mix tape instead.
How disappointing.. there IS no rectangular yellow icon to the left. Shame! SHAME!
the suggestion that meals containing olive oil inhibit depression is ninety kinds of retarded; from the ages of 23 onward (over ten years) i have wrestled cylically with the black-eyed dogs. i have had olive oil in vast quantities in every meal or every second meal throughout that time, and the previous 23 years of my life.
olive oil, while excellent for many things, doesn't inhibit anything but 'jack' + 'shit' related to depression; bullshit research is still bullshit research.
Hang on, are you saying that one CAN, in fact, get your phone number by giving you a cerebral mix tape of slowly burning flowers? Interesting.
Not that I want your phone number, I've already got one.
Once I nab her exactly, I shall either:
(a) bore her rigid with lengthy diatribes of ill-considered contrarian opinions on subjects I know close to bugger-all about and see how SHE likes it, or
(b) become so smitten that I jump into a tree to try and impress her like Clive James did.
V. scary
PS: Your column on Big Brother? Sheer brilliance.
According to my fiancée, my pretext for getting her phone number was so cunningly innocent that she had no idea I'd use it for such things as ringing her up and asking her out.
No olive oil was involved, but neither were any seminal feminists cured of depression.
He calls you 'madame' - perhaps you already unwittingly fed this noob masses of olive oil?
That was a fucking marathon post
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