Thanks to gmail’s filtering system, I don’t encounter much spam. (Also, no thanks to gmail’s filtering system, I miss quite a few Better World Book announcements, which I need to remedy.) But, I got snagged by some spam the other day. Fortunately, I didn’t click the link that I think was probably most disastrous.
First, for the spam story to make sense, I have to admit that I’m addicted to Pinterest. I knew when I joined it was probably a bad idea. I already can procrastinate on Facebook like a champ, and most of my Pinterest friends hinted at addiction on their Facebook walls. But, it was hard to resist all the pictures I found when I got to the page. Oh shiny…. I wanted to save those too. So, now I’ve got all the Pinterest categories I need. I’ve got enough craft projects marked to consume me for the next two years; I could throw the best holiday party this block has ever seen unless, of course, my neighbor throws one too using all the ideas that she’s pinned on Pinterest, and like 99.9% of unmarried females from the age of 15 – 45 on Pinterest, I have enough wedding ideas pinned to be able to have 14 ceremonies. It’s gotten to the point that it’s hard to decide whether to paint the doorknobs or protect them from the paint. I’m even tempted to make two gallons of my own laundry detergent just to see what happens.
So, when I went to my gmail the other day and found this message, I just thought I was going to a new level of hipness in Pinterest:
“Too many amazing pins (: I love your page. I’ve been trying to come up with a present for my sister and I decided to make her a Lady Gaga costume (she’s a huge fan). Which pair of these shoes do you think would work the best?[insert nefarious link here] Asked you because I like your taste <3”
Sure, I thought the message was a little strange. I mean, I really couldn’t see anything in my pins that was Lady Gagaesque except for maybe these wine bottles rolled in epsom salt, which are pretty amazing. (And, if Lady Gaga shows up at the new awards show covered in epsom salt, I want credit.) Still, I felt to ignore a request like this would violate some hidden rule of the Pinterest world that I was not yet aware of. So, I dutifully went to Pinterest to look for my wall. Turns out, nobody in Pinterest has a wall. Oh, you nasty spammer, why can’t you leave the world of happy oblivious people alone to do their pinning in peace?