spam
(the quasi-meat, not the digital junk-mail)
is 70 years old.
every couple of years i relive my childhood
and fry up a slice or 2.
my kids won't eat it
because it scares the crap out of them.
anyway, help them celebrate 70 glorious years
as america's favorite pseudo-meat
by mailing a pound or two to your favorite uncle.
-r2
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