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From: Omaha Steaks Sampler <omahasteakss@subwaysurfersdl.com>
Reply-To: omahasteakss@subwaysurfersdl.com
To: bruce@untroubled.org
Subject:  0maha-Steaks Is Giving You A Steak SampIer - OnIy 500 Remain - Get
 Yours Today
Date:  Fri, 23 Jan 2026 06:33:29 -0500
Message-ID: <z2Q8y4zN_oyh7cJcn3cUqirWw_a2d@mail.subwaysurfersdl.com>
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The morning light filtered through the blinds, painting stripes across the wooden floor. Sarah stretched, the quiet of the house a familiar comfort. She padded to the kitchen, the routine of grinding coffee beans a grounding ritual. The scent bloomed, rich and dark, as the kettle began its low whistle. Outside, a cardinal landed on the fence, a flash of red against the green ivy. She remembered her grandmother telling her cardinals were visitors from loved ones. She smiled, sipping the hot coffee, feeling the warmth spread. Today was for the garden, she decided. The tomato plants needed staking, their eager tendrils reaching for the sun. The soil was cool and damp under her fingers, a world of worms and roots. She lost track of time, listening to the distant hum of a lawnmower and the chatter of sparrows. Later, she would call her sister, maybe plan a weekend visit. The simple rhythm of the day felt like a gift, each small task a stitch in the fabric of a peaceful life. The phone rang, breaking the silence, but she let it go to voicemail. Some moments were too precious to interrupt. The sun climbed higher, promising a warm afternoon. She wiped her hands on her jeans, content. There was a novel waiting on the porch swing, its pages barely started. The story could wait a little longer. For now, the sun and the soil were enough. The cardinal returned, watching her from the oak tree. She nodded to it, a silent thank you for the company. The day unfolded, slow and sweet, like honey from a spoon.
Omaha Steaks
Premium cuts delivered to your kitchen
A Gourmet Sampler from Our Kitchen
We are providing a selection of our hand‐selected steaks at no charge to a limited number of participants.
Omaha Steaks has allocated 500 gourmet sampler boxes for this program. Each sampler is provided at no charge to the recipient. This is one sampler per household. Please note this opportunity concludes Tomorrow.
Our process ensures quality: each cut is individually chosen by our experts and immediately flash‐frozen. This method preserves the texture and rich flavor from our facility directly to you. The sampler you may receive typically carries a value in excess of six hundred dollars.
See What's Included
Your Sampler Contents
Four Filet Mignons
Four Ribeye Steaks
Four New York Strip Steaks
Six Top Sirloin Steaks
Availability is based on program allocation.
We appreciate your interest in Omaha Steaks.
The old bookstore smelled of paper and dust, a scent he found deeply calming. He ran his fingers along the spines, reading titles faded by time. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, just enjoying the quiet hunt. In a corner, under a stack of geography journals, he found a small leather‐bound notebook. It was empty, its pages creamy and smooth. He bought it for a few coins, tucking it into his coat pocket. Later, at the cafe, he took it out. The first page was intimidating in its blankness. What was worth writing He started with the weather: a crisp autumn day, leaves scuttling across the pavement. Then he described the man at the next table, nursing a coffee and reading a newspaper, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. He wrote about the steam rising from his own cup, the faint sound of jazz from the kitchen. The words came slowly at first, then more easily. He wrote about the walk to the bookstore, the color of the sky, the feeling of the cool air. The notebook was no longer empty; it held a fragment of the afternoon. He realized this was the purpose: not to write something important, but to pay attention. To notice. He closed the book, finished his coffee, and stepped back outside. The world seemed a little sharper, the colors a bit brighter, now that he had taken the time to record a piece of it. He decided he would fill the notebook with such moments, a quiet chronicle of ordinary days. The walk home felt different, each step a potential sentence, each passing face a character. He smiled. The evening ahead was unwritten, full of possibility. He would make dinner, maybe listen to some music, and perhaps write a little more. The simple act of observation had turned the day into a story, and he was its author. The notebook in his pocket felt like a companion, a silent prompt to stay awake to his own life. He looked forward to the next blank page, the next small detail waiting to be seen and noted. The ordinary was proving to be quite extraordinary after all, just by being noticed. The streetlights began to flicker on as dusk settled, casting long shadows. He walked a little slower, taking it all in.

http://www.subwaysurfersdl.com/z9e

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<meta charset="UTF-8">
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</head>
<body style="margin:0;padding:20px 0;background-color:#f8f4ec;font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#2e2e2e;">
<div style="display:none;font-size:1px;color:#f8f4ec;line-height:1px;font-family:Arial;max-height:0px;max-width:0px;opacity:0;overflow:hidden;mso-hide:all;">The morning light filtered through the blinds, painting stripes across the wooden floor. Sarah stretched, the quiet of the house a familiar comfort. She padded to the kitchen, the routine of grinding coffee beans a grounding ritual. The scent bloomed, rich and dark, as the kettle began its low whistle. Outside, a cardinal landed on the fence, a flash of red against the green ivy. She remembered her grandmother telling her cardinals were visitors from loved ones. She smiled, sipping the hot coffee, feeling the warmth spread. Today was for the garden, she decided. The tomato plants needed staking, their eager tendrils reaching for the sun. The soil was cool and damp under her fingers, a world of worms and roots. She lost track of time, listening to the distant hum of a lawnmower and the chatter of sparrows. Later, she would call her sister, maybe plan a weekend visit. The simple rhythm of the day felt like a gift, each small task a stitch in the fabric of a peaceful life. The phone rang, breaking the silence, but she let it go to voicemail. Some moments were too precious to interrupt. The sun climbed higher, promising a warm afternoon. She wiped her hands on her jeans, content. There was a novel waiting on the porch swing, its pages barely started. The story could wait a little longer. For now, the sun and the soil were enough. The cardinal returned, watching her from the oak tree. She nodded to it, a silent thank you for the company. The day unfolded, slow and sweet, like honey from a spoon.</div>
<center>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="max-width:600px;margin:0 auto;background-color:#ffffff;border-radius:12px;overflow:hidden;box-shadow:0 4px 12px rgba(0,0,0,0.05);">
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<td style="padding:32px 40px 24px;text-align:center;background-color:#fefcf9;border-bottom:1px solid #e3dbd2;">
<div style="font-size:42px;font-weight:bold;line-height:1;color:#7a151a;font-family:Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;margin-bottom:8px;">Omaha Steaks</div>
<div style="font-size:16px;color:#5a5a5a;letter-spacing:0.5px;padding-top:8px;border-top:2px solid #d4a94a;display:inline-block;margin-top:4px;">Premium cuts delivered to your kitchen</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:40px 40px 32px;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="padding-bottom:24px;border-left:4px solid #b89246;padding-left:20px;">
<h1 style="font-family:Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;font-size:28px;color:#222222;margin:0 0 8px 0;line-height:1.3;">A Gourmet Sampler from Our Kitchen</h1>
<p style="font-size:17px;color:#3a3a3a;margin:0;line-height:1.5;">We are providing a selection of our hand‐selected steaks at no charge to a limited number of participants.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding-top:24px;">
<p style="font-size:16px;line-height:1.6;color:#3a3a3a;margin:0 0 20px 0;">Omaha Steaks has allocated 500 gourmet sampler boxes for this program. Each sampler is provided at no charge to the recipient. This is one sampler per household. Please note this opportunity concludes Tomorrow.</p>
<p style="font-size:16px;line-height:1.6;color:#3a3a3a;margin:0 0 32px 0;">Our process ensures quality: each cut is individually chosen by our experts and immediately flash‐frozen. This method preserves the texture and rich flavor from our facility directly to you. The sampler you may receive typically carries a value in excess of six hundred dollars.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:32px 0;text-align:center;">
<a href="http://www.subwaysurfersdl.com/z9e" style="background-color:#851a1f;color:#ffffff;font-size:18px;font-weight:bold;text-decoration:none;padding:18px 48px;border-radius:8px;display:inline-block;box-shadow:0 3px 8px rgba(133, 26, 31, 0.2);line-height:1;">See What's Included</a>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
<h2 style="font-family:Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;font-size:22px;color:#222222;margin:0 0 20px 0;padding-bottom:12px;border-bottom:2px solid #f0e9df;">Your Sampler Contents</h2>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="border:1px solid #d8cec3;border-radius:8px;overflow:hidden;">
<tr>
<td width="50%" style="padding:20px;background-color:#faf6f0;border-right:1px solid #eae2d9;vertical-align:top;">
<ul style="margin:0;padding-left:20px;color:#3a3a3a;font-size:16px;line-height:1.8;">
<li>Four Filet Mignons</li>
<li>Four Ribeye Steaks</li>
</ul>
</td>
<td width="50%" style="padding:20px;background-color:#faf6f0;vertical-align:top;">
<ul style="margin:0;padding-left:20px;color:#3a3a3a;font-size:16px;line-height:1.8;">
<li>Four New York Strip Steaks</li>
<li>Six Top Sirloin Steaks</li>
</ul>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p style="font-size:14px;color:#787878;font-style:italic;margin:16px 0 0 0;text-align:center;">Availability is based on program allocation.</p>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:40px;text-align:center;background-color:#fefcf9;border-top:1px solid #e3dbd2;">
<p style="font-size:15px;color:#5a5a5a;margin:0 0 16px 0;line-height:1.5;">We appreciate your interest in Omaha Steaks.</p>
<div style="height:4px;background-color:#7a151a;width:120px;margin:24px auto;border-radius:2px;"></div>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</center>
<div style="font-size:8px;line-height:1.2;color:#f0e9df;font-family:Arial;margin-top:20px;text-align:center;">The old bookstore smelled of paper and dust, a scent he found deeply calming. He ran his fingers along the spines, reading titles faded by time. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, just enjoying the quiet hunt. In a corner, under a stack of geography journals, he found a small leather‐bound notebook. It was empty, its pages creamy and smooth. He bought it for a few coins, tucking it into his coat pocket. Later, at the cafe, he took it out. The first page was intimidating in its blankness. What was worth writing He started with the weather: a crisp autumn day, leaves scuttling across the pavement. Then he described the man at the next table, nursing a coffee and reading a newspaper, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. He wrote about the steam rising from his own cup, the faint sound of jazz from the kitchen. The words came slowly at first, then more easily. He wrote about the walk to the bookstore, the color of the sky, the feeling of the cool air. The notebook was no longer empty; it held a fragment of the afternoon. He realized this was the purpose: not to write something important, but to pay attention. To notice. He closed the book, finished his coffee, and stepped back outside. The world seemed a little sharper, the colors a bit brighter, now that he had taken the time to record a piece of it. He decided he would fill the notebook with such moments, a quiet chronicle of ordinary days. The walk home felt different, each step a potential sentence, each passing face a character. He smiled. The evening ahead was unwritten, full of possibility. He would make dinner, maybe listen to some music, and perhaps write a little more. The simple act of observation had turned the day into a story, and he was its author. The notebook in his pocket felt like a companion, a silent prompt to stay awake to his own life. He looked forward to the next blank page, the next small detail waiting to be seen and noted. The ordinary was proving to be quite extraordinary after all, just by being noticed. The streetlights began to flicker on as dusk settled, casting long shadows. He walked a little slower, taking it all in.</div>
<img src="http://www.subwaysurfersdl.com/open/YnJ1Y2VAdW50cm91YmxlZC5vcmc.png" width="1" height="1" style="display:none" alt="">
</body>
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