Strangely, this isn’t anime or manga related…so hopefully this sort of miscellaneous post isn’t a trend.
(The title is from the sketch where spam got its name. I may have never watched an episode of Monty Python in my life, but it’s funny to see how many people get the reference.)
From “consultoria seo rj”:
Pгoblema é que muito disso não pasѕam de mitos.
I don’t even understand Spanish (or whatever language this is). Can someone translate it for me without Google Translate so that I can laugh at it more?
From “Denese” from the United Kingdom (cue the Excalibur song!):
Yߋu may play it anytime үou want.? Daddу answereԀ.
?As a result off taking about how great God is makes
him joyful and its worship. Play itt earlier than you fall
asleｅp tonight and once you wake up within the morning and God shall be near you
all day ⅼong.
I’d assume the question marks are quotation marks gone awry, but this one seems to link to other people’s spam…
…which brings me to the rest of today’s post: a short fictional piece
I put absolutely no effort into and wrote in less than an hour based on that second piece of spam, because there’s nothing like a prompt you’ve never seen to get the writing juices flowing.
I have no idea how Daddy got the instrument. He just went out to work one day, and there it was.
Daddy obsessed over the instrument like it was his own child, even though he already had six children of his own. The instrument in question was described as being shaped like a clarinet to the family, but we all ignored him. Thought he’d gone mad.
However, on the night of the blood moon, Daddy’s mindset seemed to change entirely.
“You may play it anytime you want,” Daddy answered, his back turned to me as he mumbled, his voice cracking from lack of use as he patted what was presumably his clarinet, “as a result of of talking about how great God is and how much I worship him. Play it before you fall asleep and once you wake up in the morning. God will be near you all day long.”
“But Daddy,” I tried to stop him as he turned around and caressed in his hands what was meant to be his clarinet. “You aren’t holding anything…”
I grasped at the air within his hands as he brought the invisible instrument to his lips and began to play a haunting melody that resounded through the night. Everything caught under its vibrations seemed to tremble under the might of the instrument that seemingly didn’t exist.
To this day, I still don’t know how he played the song…
I have no idea why it became a supernatural piece like Vatican Miracle Examiners, but there you go.
So, have you got any weird comments in your spam (under Comments > Manage on desktop and under Comments > Spam on phone)?