I get a lot of spam in my email box at work. Like I'll come back on a Monday and there'll be 400 fuckin' emails to wade through, most of which are from people who think my penis needs to be bigger and my mortgage smaller. I usually delete them without even opening them. Some spammers, however, have gotten very clever at tricking me into opening their emails. They'll write things in the subject box like, “You forgot your coat,” or, “I've been trying to get a hold of you.” It's become a game of sorts for me trying to guess whether an email is spam or a legitimate letter. But when one gets an email titled, “You Can Own Land on the Moon!” there is no question in my mind that that email should be opened.

“The UN Outer Space Treaty of 1967,” the letter began, “stipulated that no government could own extraterrestrial property. However, it neglected to mention individuals and corporations. Therefore, under laws dating back from early US settlers, it is possible to stake a claim for land that has been surveyed and register it with the US Government Office of claim registries. In 1980, that is exactly what Dennis Hope did for land on the Moon and he established the Lunar Embassy to parcel and sell documented acres.”

Wow! Land on the moon! And it's only $29.95 an acre. I've been thinking of buying another home out in the middle of nowhere to get away from everybody, but I didn't realize that this option was available to me. No neighbors, no gravity, shit it really could be my little world.

I wrote Tania and told her I was thinking of buying land on the moon and she replied, “I'm so totally running for president of the moon. Gary will be my VP and you will be my intern! *Ms. President (...who has seen this lame moon thing a million times).”

What? The gall of that fuckin' bitch. How can she just proclaim herself President of the moon? Or even of my moon land, for that matter? So I wrote her back and hotly explained that, first of all, I had already envisioned that my moon country would be without a government and would be more of a commune—excuse me, a com moon —but if there were to be a moon president it would be in title only and we'd have to have a fair and democratic election because I want to be President too.

“Since Gary is going to be the only other one allowed citizenship in my commoon,” I wrote, “we can have him vote for either you or me. How do we get him to vote, though? We put him in a small box with a line drawn down the center of the floor of the box dividing it in half. One side of the floor says ‘Dave' while the other says ‘Tania.' We don't let him out until he poops and whoever's name he poops on will be President of the Moon. Or should it be the other way around? Whoever's name he doesn't poop on is President? And if he votes for you, fine, you'll be President and I'll be your intern. But would that make me Moonica Lewinsky?”

We bickered back and forth on the subject for awhile until I said, fuck it, no one is President until I buy the damn property, so I sent the Lunar Embassy my $29.95 and waited patiently for my Lunar Deed to come in the mail. About a week later I received a package from Florida containing not only my Lunar Deed but the Lunar Constitution Bill of Rights, a map of the moon with an X marking my acre, and a bunch of other nonsense.

I'm pretty stoked on my property. There's no trees so I think I have a good view. And as the deed says, it's in the “ Sea of Tranquility .” Ah, tranquil. Plus I heard that region is booming right now and property values are predicted to rise substantially in the near future. And check out that fuckin' crater! It's the crater Argon and it looks like it has pretty good trannies. That's where I'm going to build the biggest skatepark in the universe, in that crater. Imagine the 1080s you could pull in zero gravity. You'd probably be able to skate like a video game character, too, and like fuckin' kickflip the pyramid, catch it, heelflip, catch it, tre flip, catch it and land. Totally tits bro.

The best part is that just a few days after I received my moon deed, President Bush announced that he's going to give NASA an additional billion dollars to go to the moon and build a snack shack or a space station or something and begin developing the moon. I can't think of a better way to spend a billion dollars of the American people's tax money right now. That's exactly what we need in these dire times: a trip to the moon to inspire us. You might be unemployed or without health insurance, but hey, there's a snack shack on the moon! Or maybe there's oil in the moon? I thought it was made of cheese. Alternative fuel source: cheese! Or maybe he's planning on mining for health care? Whatever, I don't give a shit because I got into moon real estate while the market was soft. I'm gonna be rich.

If it weren't for spam, I never would have learned about this golden opportunity. The internet is awesome: I own land on the moon. I wonder, though, are there any moon injuns I'm going to have to chase off my land?