Brother Dave's Cave: Home There once was a hermit named Dave...
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...And so because of the Robot Spiders set loose by various Nefarious Marketing Weasels, BD changed his e-mail address... Robots Ate My Old E-Mail Address

       Well, I've been in jail
       Where all the mail showed
       A man can't give his address
       Out to bad company

                -- An excerpt from Brother Bob Dylan's
               "Where Are You Tonight, Sweet Marie?"

I believe I have at least one hypertext link or a hotlinked button-graphic for "E-MAIL" on each page of this site. Most pages have both. And up until recently, Dear Web Surfer, you could have clicked on either form of link and then, instantly, your default e-mail program would have been conveniently launched, already addressed to me so you could easily jot your kind and considerate words and then simply press "Send." Zip, zap, done! Cool.

Ah, but the various Nefarious Marketing Weasels and Greasy Sleaze Merchants who cruise the Internet looking for fresh meat have set loose their Robot Spiders to snare and retrieve my e-mail address from the little bits of HTML code that I had used to make the process slightly easier for you when you chose to write me. (Yes, I'd curse their black hearts and wicked souls, if only I thought marketing weasels and sleaze merchants really had hearts and souls!)

Well, after the Robot Spiders report back to their respective Masters of Evil, I am inundated with all kinds of unsolicited e-mail junk and come-ons at the rate of approximately 75 to 150 a day. Jeez! (Hey, Kiddos, sing that catchy Monty Python ditty with me: "Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam,....")

When I first started receiving so many of those promises to make my naughty bits bigger and harder and all, I tended to be a little paranoid, wondering whether The X or some so-called friend or other so-and-so was playing some kinda lame practical joke by sending my e-mail address to those kinda snake-oil vendors.

Added inches in length? Inches in girth? Herbal Viagra? Low-cost mortgages? Free porn? And yadda, yadda, yadda. Do I really look that dumb? (Well, okay, this is one of those instances when I'd gently remind you that "You can't judge a book by its cover." Otherwise, it's just a rhetorical question. 'Kay?)

Anyway,... Following is a graphic of my replacement e-mail address. Heh, heh, heh. Those damned robots can't read graphics... at least, not yet. So now, FYI:

BD's address in graphic form so as to hopefully thwart Robot Spiders. So there.

I apologize for any inconvenience to you, Dear Web Surfer. You'll have to launch your e-mail program and type my address in by hand. Bummer. But hey, besides having to ditch my old familiar e-address and try to remember a new one, I've now gotta go through almost 200 web pages and change some 300+ links. Jeez.

Oh well, if I ever have to change my address again, at least it will be a simpler process of changing just a couple of graphics on this one page only. Hotcha!


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2001-2012 David R. Lister • All Rights Reserved.