Imagine you start using a moniker on the web. You register using ludicrous name on various websites to leave comments. This entity starts getting his own mail without you requesting anything. All you did was leave a few comments. He starts to become real and one day you return home and find this man made of spam wearing your clothes and watching your TV. Looking at your hand you notice that you have faded a bit and are turning translucent like one of the chameleons you find at night in Arizona. Who is to blame? You are! You let the spam out of the can. At a loss about what to do when he hits you with a request for a girlfriend made of Rapa Scrapple. Time to face facts. You are on your way out buddy and there is no sense in denying it. One foot is on a banana peel and the other is in the grave. You are on the proverbial slippery slope. This dopple ganger made of pork trimmings is usurping your identity.
By the time the cold case detectives showed up at my front door there was no evidence left save an open spam can I had overlooked sitting on the kitchen counter. When they asked to come in and look around I let them. My head began to sweat as they passed the empty container. It was my only slip but they did not make the connection.