Last night I turned on the computer and read the following email:
hi Karina i hope this is your e-mail.
I was happy to see you the other day. I expect you was excited about New York.
So much so much happening all the time, lots of great opportunities.
And speaking of opportunities, the deal I was speaking you about day before involves a company known as Tex-Homa (TXHE).
It's already growing up, but the big info isn't even out yet, so there's still time. I have got this shares already and made 2000. I recommend you to do the same today.
Hope this helps you out. I'll see you this weekend.
Yours Karina Sterling
The existence of this type of advertising is a function of two things--an exceptionally low distribution cost, and the gullibility of a few very naive individuals. And maybe there's a third factor to consider. Some woman (or some guy) has a unique creative talent to dream up this stuff. Living in some foreign country, comparatively fluent in English, she collects a paycheck every two weeks and takes the train home at 5:00 p.m., puts her kids to bed and watches television as she falls asleep on the couch. And one day she woke up with a new idea, though never intended for me, that greeted me in my mailbox: hi Karina ...
Not only that, but there were three versions of the same, each with different names, and mailed to two of my different accounts. And judging by my sample of one, she'd found a rich vein: She made it through the spam filters and into my inbox. And she got me to open it up and read it. But what are the chances of me actually buying some shares of Tex-Homa? Exactly Zero.
It's hard to go broke underestimating the American male, but he won't buy stocks from an imaginary Asian woman who goes by Karina and sends him emails she has written to herself even when she does promise to see him over the weekend.
I know it's not my idea of a hot tip.
The funny thing is, I got this same email (or a slight variation of it).
ReplyDeletePaul, a co-worker and good friend of mine used to work for a company that paid him commissions for his spam. He is a little ashamed of this job now, but at the time he says it was a delightful experience to see his commission grow on its own as he sat and monitored the effects of his bothersome email. I have since learned to direct all my spite not at the spammers, but at the half-wit consumers who give spammers a job.