I love spam. Not. But it does amuse me sometimes. So far this evening I’ve been able to pay off my mortgage several times over, get enormously wealthy without so much as lifting a finger, have much bigger breasts and a penis the size of Cleopatra’s Needle. Nothing unusual there, but to have that all followed by an offer of a cheap 0898 telephone number is just a wee bit serendipitious. All I need now is the phone number for a journalist at the Daily Sport, and I’m sorted.