Spammobile

Okay, whatever asshead came up with the idea of those junk emails, when we're done boiling him in oil and all that, we need to turn him over the the Spam people for tainting their brand.



I loves Spam. I know, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Baked Beans, Spam Spam and Spam.

I wish I could afford to take Em to Spamalot, actually. Even the cheap tickets are only 'cheap' if you compare them to airline tickets.



This is not the Weinermobile: Oscar Meyer gets a couple of college kids to drive their hot dog around for a summer (no doubt for wages bordering on 'outsourced to India'), but the Spammobile crew is in their eighth year, and they spend as much time on the road as those college kids spend in school.



Then I got to wondering, what kind of home life do you have when you spend nine months driving a giant can of Spam from town to town? I asked if there were Spammobile groupies, the guy started telling me about some clown in the Southwest with a Spam can costume who managed to render himself obnoxious. I decided not to pursue the subject further, because I think he was feigning innocence regarding the real meaning of 'groupie.' Got a girl in every port, I'll bet.



I bought a couple of cans in the store (on sale, two for $1.50) and showed them my receipt to get a Hot Wheel of the Spammobile, which I'll be parking on my desk at work. They also gave me a Spam holder (Tupperware type thing exactly the right size for a can of Spam), and a fridge magnet that I think I remember seeing come through my former employer's factory.