New Lows in Junk E-Mail

I'm sorry, but would you please look at this, which just arrived in my Inbox, from the generically familiar all-consonant address, and with absolutely no text in the message?



Forget for a moment that, no matter how carefully you have PhotoShopped, it's hard to sell Viagra in the absence of any link, address, or contact info where one might obtain Viagra. Forget for a moment the insane national fixation on Viagra. (My partner recently went to a doctor's office where the traditional roll of paper covering the examining table was a giant Viagra ad.) Here is my semiotic understanding of this image:

1) Are you a one-armed man looking for sex? Are you all hot to trot after killing Richard Kimble's wife? If so, you've come <tee hee> to the right place!

2) Try flexing your arm, which might be enough to attract horny lolitaz, as described in my previous junk-message. Note that the scrupulous one-armed flexer can cast a faint shadow that looks remarkably like an open-mouthed moray eel. One or the other of these stunts should surely attract some distaff attention. No? Okay, we're going to need to pop some Viagra. Do your best opening the prescription bottle with your single hand.

3) Get ready for some of that alien, unimagined, Cronenberg-type sex you've always wondered about. You have two options. In one, while you wrap your arm around the stiletto-heeled woman, she will seductively knee you in the groin. It can only help that she, too, has but one arm, in the distressingly withered style of Swamp Thing, Thomas Hardy, or similar.

In the other, perhaps more aggressively courted by our clever illustrators, the woman stands in perfect soldiery lockstep while your penis, suddenly grown to massive, tree-trunk proportions due to magic dose of Viagra, impales this poor creature on its utterly unpleasurable girth. Please try not to worry about the tiny but perceptible genital wart on its underside. Also, please try not to provoke or else crush the wee egret waiting at your feet.