A question of balance

Not one of my usual themed pieces, just for a change .

Instead I wish to ponder briefly upon my Virgin Media (formerly NTL) email account! Not Little Alfie’s email account you should understand but the one belonging to ME – the guy who operates Little Alfie like a warm-handed glove puppeteer!

 I had a couple of spare moments at work today and took the opportunity to check said email account by opening the Web-mail version in my browser.

I wasn’t expecting much as cancelling my subscription to all of the job-hunting services has reduced my daily inbox to about a tenth of its previous size. However, it was a good job that I DID check it because there were a whole raft of emails about the highly important matter of bait requirements for The Great Fishing Match in two weeks time and where we would fish if there turns out to be some justice in the world and the bloody horrible Prince of Wales Pier in Dover should spontaneously drop into the sea!

What with my seven fishing colleagues all using the “reply to all” facility to make their thoughts known there came to be quite a number of what I like to think of as “big, butch, blokey” emails in my inbox.

That doesn’t bother me!

What bothers me is the two emails having nothing to do with either job searches or fishing that managed to insinuate their way uninvited and almost unnoticed into the midst of them!

The first of these bore the heading “Are you curious about the Arts or have a creative flair?”  and the second “Be our guest at an intimate Westlife gig!”

Do you see where I’m going with this?

Given that both of those messages would normally have been blocked as “spam” it would appear that some Political Correctness Nazi is watching my account and allowing through some, shall we say, “feminine side” messages to counteract the blatant masculinity of the lugworm discussions!

Is that a possibility? Does Richard Branson employ  “Monitors” to, as it were, restore balance to the force?

If so, I REALLY hope my friend Kim sends us one of his utterly filthy and disgusting  jokes – the only message capable of counteracting THAT would have to be labelled “Hello sweetipops! Are you a screaming Whoopsie too?”

And be typed in pink!

Alfie