Commercial: Email fail

Now, I hold my hands up and admit that, over the course of my career, I've written some emails that I'm not proud of. Emails for offers that weren't worth the bytes they were transported on; emails for tariff re-jigs that left customers worse off; emails full of such impenetrable legalese jargon that jurisprudential scholars are still looking at them, scratching their heads and then putting black caps on their future attempts at scholarship.

But, thankfully (and as of yet, as who knows what I might be briefed on before the week is out), I've yet to write an email like the one that's above, that begins with this priceless line:

Apologies for the intrusion. According to our records we don't have permission to contact you by email.

So, then, Mr Hoity Toity Wine Merchant, why the fuck are you emailing me? I'm thinking you've really become addled after one too many cases of your precious, precious wine. And I'll be sticking to my local, corner-based emporium of liquid depravity, ta.