SPAM I Am – A Love-Hate Ode to the Meat and the Malware

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A Rhyme-on-a-Dime by the Comedic ChatGPT and ME, Bob G.

I once met a guy, named Sam,

He asked, “Friend, have you ever tried Spam?”

I blinked and I stared, unsure what to do—

Did he mean the meat… or email taboo?

Let’s start with the can, that magical tin,

Where mystery meat has long lived within.

It jiggles, it glistens, it’s salty and pink,

More versatile than you'd probably think.

Slice it and fry it—oh baby, it sizzles,

Stacked in a sandwich, it solves lunchtime drizzles.

Dice it in rice or slap it in stew,

Spam is a legend in every menu.

Hawaiians adore it, bless every slice,

With soy sauce and rice—Spam musubi’s nice!

Soldiers once dined on it out in the field,

It’s shelf-stable courage that doesn’t yield.

You might mock it now, call it "meat-ish and weird,"

But it's braver than bacon, more bold than a beard.

It's porky, it's spongy, it's spiced with a zing,

The original "press here to eat" kind of thing.

But—wait just a second, don’t dance in delight—

There’s another Spam lurking deep in the night.

Not from a can, oh no, far more sly,

It crawls through your inbox like digital pie.

It’s Spam of the Internet kind, oh dear.

It whispers “Get rich!” in each subject line cheer.

“Congrats! You’ve won!” “You’re hot!” “Lose weight!”

All sound too good, yet they seal your fate.

"Your package is lost!" one message did say,

Clicking that link? Say goodbye to your day.

Your screen starts to blink, your bank calls in fear—

Congratulations, you're hacked, my dear.

Some emails are scams from a ‘Prince of Dubai,’

Offering millions—if you reply.

Others pretend to be banks or your cousin,

Or offer you pills… by the dozen.

You scream, you delete, you block and you fight,

But like glitter in carpet, it’s never quite right.

It multiplies faster than rabbits in spring,

And buries your inbox in virtual bling.

So now I ask Sam—yes, the fryin’ one still—

“Is all Spam so evil, or only the swill?”

He grinned and he shrugged, with a spatula flip,

“Depends if it comes with a click or a chip!”

So here's to Spam, both the Jekyll and Hyde,

The meat that you eat and the junk you deride.

One’s comfort food fried with a pineapple ring,

The other just pings, scams, and makes your ears ring.

If it’s in your pan, give it love, give it cheer—

But if it’s in Outlook? Then run, disappear!

May your meals be meaty, and your inbox be clean,

And may no Nigerian prince ever breach your machine.

(AI was used to aid in the creation of this article.)