It’s Not Me–Really

Everybody knows that most Web-based e-mail providers are susceptible to spam no matter how hard you try to keep your address a secret. (I recall someone on Fark posting a comment along the lines of, “Open a Hotmail account…and the porn will come to you.”)

But starting yesterday, I started to get a plethora of “delivery failure” notices in my Yahoo! mail. And considering I rarely (if ever) use it to send anything, I thought it was strange.

For the most part, it’s reserved for subscriptions and newsletters. But with all the failure notices I’d been receiving, I had to turn off my e-mail alert on Trillian. Since they are failure notices, they get sent to my inbox.

Here’s proof:

I chose to make a folder to place them in just so I can see how many I’d receive. As of this post, that’s what I’ve gotten. And I’m sure by the time I’m done here, there will be even more.

So what happened? From what I can gather, my address has been added to a bulk e-mail list as the return address. You know, those ones you get for “hot stock tips” and Viagra? Yeah, some of them will now say they were from me. Fuck.

All of this weirdness started to happen after I posted an ad on Craig’s List for my missing MTA pass a few months ago. Once I did, within minutes Spamfest 2007 began. Shortly after placing the ad, I also started to get MySpace message notifications to a name that wasn’t mine. Turns out some punk kid was using my Yahoo! address as his login. Go figure.

What sucks is that this account is also linked to my Flickr account and my domain name, so I have to keep the address in order to log-in and renew my domain (which will expire very soon). I’ve had it since the Rocketmail days and now it’s just become completely useless. Not only that, I’ve got tons of sent and saved messages in there that I’ve been forwarding to another address in case I chose to delete it, and I have to change the address on all of my newsletter subscriptions. In short, it’s become a royal pain.

So if you get any spam from “me,” I’m sorry. It’s not–really.

But I do have a hot stock tip for you.