411: Spam Poetry Redux

It's time for another installment of one of our patented blog innovations, Spam Poetry, where we compose a stirring ode solely from the subject lines of our junk emails. This one's either about religion, or sex. Or maybe something about Chinese herbs to make our dicks bigger. Who can say?

Abram; the son of Thy soul: lothed their iniquity and olive trees and

forty and gold, and with of the midst of the Cretians are the

Cure for your penis problems.

Away and an hundred foreskins and oil; unto them, unto

a woman having spot.

The zeal second and he made up Moses, for for he came

his nutate as cyclist.

And ever: perished at her go forth

I have digged in the chief priests, and what is at the

hair; as by it: go unto her all the world according to the

Matter of fact.

How u doing?