Monday, January 24, 2011


Dear Mr. Spam Filter:

I know you have a job to do and I realize it's not an easy one, but it's way past time you gave me a break. Seriously. What is this thing with booting my emails into the depths of your porn dumpster with purveyors of V*ag*ra, faux university degrees,and cheap drugs? Plus I definitely do not want to spend any more time in purgatory with bored Russian girls who claim they have seen my picture and can make me very very happy.

You see, here's the fact to get straight: Mary Jane. That’s my name. It may also be slang for a five-leafed herb popular as an illicit relaxant, but in this case it's just my name. That's not my fault either. I didn't pick it. Blame my parents back in the dim mists of time when these double names were all the style. None of them were code for cannabis: not Mary Jane, not Peggy Sue, not Betty Lou. So to reiterate: I am not some herb being sold online which if smoked may cause you to laugh like a loon and devour the entire contents of your mom's fridge at one sitting or even get arrested.

Nor do I appreciate you adding the designation BULK to my sent emails. I work hard at losing weight and really don't need you throwing that in my face. You don't sound too skinny yourself, pal.

To recap, I'm tired of having my messages go missing and pleading unsuccessfully with you to lighten up. I know I am not the only one with this problem: Exhibit A: my husband recently sent himself a message from his own Blackberry, which you promptly dispatched to his spam filter. It sounds like one of those impossibilities as in being your own grandpa, but you let this happen to him and it's on you.

Friends have missed radio interviews, dinner party invitations, probably court dates, and maybe even proposals, all because something little thing sets you off. Have you considered anger management courses? I may need one of those myself, because while I get sent to the email wilderness, you let the real spam creep into my Inbox every single day.

I've given you far too many warnings without success and you have missed every opportunity to get your act together. At this point, I have no choice but to let you go. As of now, consider yourself surplus to requirements. Get a real job.
I'll deal with the Inbox.


Mary Jane Maffini (and that's not Marijuana Muffins to you)

Mary Jane Maffini rides herd on three, soon to be three and a half, mystery series. You can check them out at

1 comment:


    A possible plot line brewing? A Jon Dong who misses the drop-off point for his drug deal because the e-mail ended up in a spam filter? Purchaser seeks revenge and Jon Dong ends up spammed against a wall by a black Cadillac Escalade?