Spam isn’t anywhere near the worst part of the job. Sometimes it’s even fun, like squashing roaches.
Some days it feels more like whack-a-mole.
Those are the days Whack-A-Mole wishes he had chosen a different name.
Interesting username / post combo considering your well-deserved reputation.
You haven’t been giving him the old stink-eye have you? 
What is the worst part of your job? /sounds like setup for joke, but serious, since you mention it
Responding to complaints in ATMB.
A friend of mine would got all of the words right in a grade 2 spelling test, but didn’t get a perfect score because she misspelt her own name.
I won my elementary school’s spelling bee, but lost the district one on “usury.”
Fucking anti-Semites.
Well, SKYNET is taking over. It was a hellava fun ride you guys. I love you each. I love you all. Vote Nixon President of Earth. I’ll see you when Apocalypse comes.
Just now checking out this thread.
I really appreciate the serious moderating here. I read some boards where there is either no moderating or the mods are so afraid of offending people that they let threads ramble off in all kinds of directions.
One very active health-related board that I’m thinking of has threads that routinely run to 10,000 posts or more. When I suggested that possibly the threads could be cut off and new ones started, say, every month or so, a mod said, “Well, we don’t want people to think we’re censoring them.” Huh? (I’m not referring to something like the “novelty” threads on SDMB that are deliberately allowed to go very, very long.) It’s like being in a house where no one ever picks up anything, tidies up, or does the dishes–just a big pile of stuff you can’t find your way through. You have a question, you find a thread that deals with it, and it has 15,000 posts…
The reader comments on the New York Times are well-moderated and a pleasure to read, even the dissenting, critical ones. The reader comments on The Atlantic, however, deteriorate swiftly into name-calling, snarkiness, ugliness, and spam ads. Apparently no one is watching the store. Ralph Waldo Emerson must be spinning in his grave.