It is tempting the first few times, especially if you are a tad bored. "This is your lucky day!" the message in your in-box teases, addressing you by name. There are promises of money, supreme happiness, the answer to life, the universe and everything. And, of course, there is sex.

I don't know why I almost daily receive emails with subjects such as "Farm Girl Delight!" and "High Class blow jobs only $1". I am, after all, a woman.

At first I assumed that because Lindsay can also be a male name it was simply a matter of confusion. But friends with distinctly girlie names such as Catherine and Alice also report such porny missives in their in-boxes.

The number of spam emails we receive is set to treble by 2005 - currently one in eight emails are spam. Simply deleting them is wasting more and more of our time - according to recent research 10% of the working day is spent dealing with unwanted emails.

I recently taught my parents how to use the internet and they are extremely excited about their new email address. But, horrified that my mother's sensibilities will be offended, I have told her not to open any emails, unless they are from me.

Even I feel rather uneasy seeing "Sex Crazed College Girls (Free)" up there on my screen underneath such innocent propositions as 50% off classic towels from The White Company and seasonal offers from Amazon. In fact, I almost feel guilty. Did I look up something a bit risque on the internet once? Did I write the f-word in an email to a friend? Is that why Hot Karly thinks I'm fair game for her alarmingly capped-up "WETNESS"? So I hastily delete without opening and leave a squeaky-clean in-box full of fluffy towels and nice novels.

What concerns me is a form of cyber paranoia. If I do open up "Farm Girl Delight!" (OK, I admit it could be organic yoghurt), even if my credit card stays firmly in my wallet, then I am sure it will be on my record, on my hard drive, a message to everyone in cyberspace: "I am a perv!" I would never be able to sell my computer, or donate it to my stepson. The shame.

But that said, in the interest of research (and because I am trying to put off some work I have to do) I put all fears of viruses, perv labelling and virtual extortion to the back of my mind and decide to open up some spam.

Along with the "let's meet up next week" and the ever-popular "delivery failure" that are my usual personal emails, there is a smorgasbord of spam.

"Discover Secrets!" sounds good, but when I open it, it is a huge and baffling document: "There are specific mechanics of a photon's propagation through space time that go beyond a simple description of what space time is and yet, a photon's behaviour is completely dependent on the nature of space time... " I assume someone has cut and pasted the wrong thing.

The next offer of the morning (spam usually crosses the Atlantic by night when you and your PC are asleep) is "I am so wet and juicy and only a buck" (I instinctively know this is not a special offer on Florida oranges). And sure enough when I click on the link a throbbing neon sign offers "Porn 4 a dollar". I am disappointed my cyber credentials don't merit the finer things in life. Instead I have been invited to enter the Poundstretcher of Porn.

Here, there is an oval photo of two embracing women. They are posing in a G-plan-style bedroom with cheap, patterned wallpaper behind them and a twee nautical ornament on the integral bedside table. Just in case you were in any doubt, "Lezbo!" flashes above them in green luminous lettering.

I click on "Lezbo!" to see if the site will reveal the pair cavorting on any more of their 70s suburban furnishings. But no, the screen goes black and an ominous messages flashes up, one word at a time: "Stop... Getting... Fucked."

That's it, I am sure this is a nasty message from a virus instigator. Enough already.

Instead I open the more innocent "Investigate ANYONE online". The "internet detective" tells me I can track, locate or conduct a complete background check on anyone at any time. All for $29.95. Apart from the fact that its US origins mean it probably won't cover that particular individual I am curious about in SW18, the final line announces that it is not Mac-compatible.

I log off and decide that when I can be bothered I will click the "delete me from your mailing list" option. If I do that, of course, I risk an in-box full of nothing but delivery failures. And the shame of AOL's Connie telling me "you have NO new emails."