Undoubtedly there are blogs, message boards and discussion lists all over the web that don’t have a clue about how to stop the endless plastering of comment spam all over the landscape. My blog is not one of them. Every damned comment is moderated, every trackback must be approved. By me. And I’m tired of being prompted to approve over 1,000 spam links every Monday, after letting comment moderation get away from me over the weekend.
Porn, Online Poker, Boner Pills
Not a single one of these fuckers makes it to my public website. Not one. It all gets filtered out by my comments moderation. Yet, you fuckers persist in jamming up my database with irrelevant, annoying shit that does nothing for your marketing program.
Twinks, Texas Hold 'Em, C1aLiS
You’re squeezing no Google juice from me or my website. You’d think that somewhere along the line, you’d write some sort of script to figure out whether the kajillions of comments you send out ever make it into HTML. But noooooooo. Instead, you waste my bandwidth and yours with several hundred comments a day that never boost your PageRank and never get a single click from drooling fucktards who buy shit via spam.
Big t!ts, Caribbean Stud Poker, Sooper V1agaRa
You’d think that since I’ve completely removed the economic incentive for you to spam my website, you’d eventually stop after finding out it’s no longer worth the bandwidth to send 1,000 comments over the weekend and get precisely zip in return. But you haven’t stopped, which makes you a tremendous throbbing dick.
Blacks on Blondes, Three-Card Poker, Rock-Hard Erections
It kills me that you can’t figure out your comment spam isn’t seeing the light of day, yet you’ve seemingly figured out how to hack Trackback to turn it into yet another channel for you to tell the speds of the world about Porn, Online Poker and Boner Pills. Every Trackback you send generates an e-mail to me. All Trackbacks are moderated just like comments and no, they never see public HTML either. Yet you’ve sent me at least 75 of the damned things today.
Girlz N Dogs, WSOP, Give your wife a thrill!
All you’re doing is making a mess. No one sees your crappy ads except me. And I’m going absolutely fucking nowhere near that fugly-ass mishmash of shitty scripting you call a website, so there’s not a snowball’s chance I’m buying any of your crap.
Teens in Heat, Secrets of Poker, Screw all night
Yes, I will calm down for now. I will take a break from cleaning up the endless stream of digital diarrhea you’ve been splattering all over my database. That’s hershey squirtage that need not exist, since it gets you nothing and it simply wastes my time and patience. So take a fucking break, spam-boy. Fribbles and Fishamajigs are on me at Friendly’s if you simply take two minutes to re-evaluate this little campaign’s return on investment with respect to my site and cut the shit.