A Lighter Inbox...

Oh, I feel refreshed. Revitalised. Nothing to do with the wedding. Caught up on that. A précis  on late night news... plenty. The bride looked exquisite; the groom looked like.... Harry. Some magnificent frockage. Hattily, nattily, stylish. And all went swimmingly.
Marvellous feat of British pageantry.

I'm actually talking about my Inbox. And yours. Because this is big stuff. I am so tired of Bitcoin emails. So fed up with being seduced by Russian women. Why don't they send me some women from North Yorkshire? I don't need any more insurance, and am not ready to put my first down payment on my funeral. Thank you, thank you, but finally no thank you.... No more raking through hundreds of unsolicited emails searching for the one that a friend might have sent you. Or missing the only genuine one because you have been trigger-happy in exterminating  all the trash.

Now we have emails asking you nicely to press this button if you wish to continue to receive emails from their company. No, thanks! The power. The pleasure. No more bombardment. No more delectable temptation. Control.

My Inbox is going to be lean and mean.
I'd like to have been mean with the Ben and Jerry's  cookie dough this evening. I'd like to have been mean with the Digestive Lights I spread with butter. It's all because I wasn't mean with the Porta 6 tonight. Which means that there is fat chance of me being lean in the foreseeable future.
If only I could zip up my personal Inbox....