This is an open letter to anyone who still sends me forwards.
It's not that I don't like hearing from you, or finding out quirky details about you from the latest survey you've filled out, chronicling the last song you listened to, your favourite ice-cream flavour and what colour socks you're wearing.
It's not that I don't want to get free money from Bill Gates, or a gift certificate from Applebee's, or be warned that there's a psycho in the local mall parking lot who may invite me to sniff noxious perfume and then stuff me in the back of his trunk after I pass out.
And I certainly wouldn't want to bring bad luck upon myself by not forwarding a poem containing sparkly graphics of teddy bears, angels, and ducklings with a caption at the end in size-17 green font, screaming: "I HOPE YOU DANCE…!!!"
Really, I want to get these all of these things.
It's just that if you keep sending them to me and everyone else you know as a bulk email, they will — completely accidentally, of course — get filtered to my junk mail. So to ensure I get your messages, from now on I urge you to forward each one out individually to the 50+ people on your contact list, one at a time.
Unless, of course, that's too annoying.