Planet Spam

We have a variety of Imaginary Places that we like to visit in literature: Dorothy's Oz, Alice's Wonderland, Frodo's Middle Earth. But I am wondering what it looks like to live on a planet we should all be familiar with to one degree or another -- Planet Spam. The neighborhoods there are filled with cul-de-sac after cul-de-sac of empty houses. Everyone on the planet owns at least a dozen houses with two or three low-cost mortgages each, but obviously they can only live in one at a time. People don't eat foods there, they just take pails full of vitamin pills, some of which can lengthen your lifespan by 25 years. At which point you can retire to one of your many housing options. Of course then men on Planet Spam all have penises the size of small trees. They lug them around in public with the help of those carriers designed for skis. But no matter how big they get, they need to buy new creams each day in the hope of ever greater enlargement. Engineering specialists on Planet Spam are working on ways to redesign public and private transportation options to accommodate these ever-growing members. At the moment the men all use stairs, even in tall buildings. They don't dare get in the elevator. On Planet Spam everyone has a financial advisor based in Nigeria who is busy investing the multi-millions that the person has earned by helping someone take advantage of a Great Opportunity. The women are all really thin, too, because they are able to lose a pound a day without cutting any calories. (They will need to be extremely thin in order to fit in the bed with their husband's ridiculously-sized organs.) The people on Planet Spam don't speak English, exactly. The speak a variant that resembles English but with a lot of hard-to-pronounce symbols interspersed which translates roughly to occasional burping sounds when you are speaking. Something like, Hi! Nic$ to meet you, Mr. Smi%^th. We're so Gl*^d you were able to j@&in our cong#(5grega@$tion. If a burp is not physically possible then you just substitute a swear word. Whenever anyone makes a request on Planet Spam you must do what they ask immediately, or risk being told over and over and over (complete with rapid fire burps and swears) until you comply. However once a day you are able to delete all un-completed requests from your mind and you can start fresh the next day. If on any given day your mind gets filled with more requests than your brain can process, then you are allowed to return to one of your heavily mortgaged homes, lock the doors and draw the curtains. Entertainment on Planet Spam is X-rated of course, with hot teens of every variety and all your favorite celebrities performing unnatural acts. The mildest programs shown during the daytime and family hour are rated Triple X, while cable and more mature fare is rated "AP" for American Pi, constituting an endless number of dirty digits. I hope our children's children to not grow up to be natives of Planet Spam.