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From: Omaha Sampler Steak <omahasampler@musicvkl.com>
Reply-To: omahasampler@musicvkl.com
To: bruce@untroubled.org
Date: Thu, 15 Jan 2026 16:40:06 -0500
Subject: 0maha-Steaks Has Your Steak SampIer - 5OO Remain
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The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting long stripes across the wooden floor. I stretched, listening to the quiet hum of the neighborhood slowly waking up. A dog barked in the distance, a familiar sound that marked the start of the day. I padded into the kitchen, the tiles cool underfoot, and filled the kettle with water. The ritual of making tea was a comforting one, the steam rising in gentle curls as I waited for the whistle. Outside, the mail carrier's truck rumbled down the street, a steady, predictable rhythm. I thought about the book I was reading, a dense historical novel about shipbuilders in a previous century. The author had a way of describing the texture of rope and the smell of salt air that made it all feel immediate. My phone buzzed on the counter, a reminder for a video call later with an old friend who had moved across the country. We planned to discuss a documentary we'd both watched, about migratory patterns of birds. It was fascinating how they navigated such vast distances using cues invisible to us. The kettle began to sing, a sharp, rising note that broke my reverie. I poured the hot water over the tea leaves in my favorite ceramic pot, watching the color slowly bleed into the water. The scent of bergamot filled the air. I carried the cup to the table by the window, where a small succulent sat in a painted pot. I made a mental note to water it later, as the soil looked dry. The day ahead was unstructured, a blank page. Perhaps I would go for a long walk in the afternoon, or finally organize that shelf of cookbooks that had been leaning precariously for months. There was a certain peace in these slow mornings, a space to gather one's thoughts before the world fully intruded. The silence was not empty, but full of potential.
Omaha Steaks
Exceptional 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 participants. A total of 500 sampler boxes are available for this program.
You are invited to receive a sampler of our premier cuts. Each piece is hand‐selected and flash‐frozen at the peak of flavor. The sampler is provided at no charge to you; you will not be billed for it. This is limited to one sampler per household. Please respond by the end of the day Tomorrow.
The contents of each sampler are listed below. This curated selection represents a variety we are pleased to share.
See What's Included
Inside Your Sampler Box
Four Ribeye Steaks
Six Top Sirloin Steaks
Four New York Strip Steaks
Four Filet Mignon Steaks
The sampler allocation is managed by the program.
Our process ensures each cut is preserved at its best. Flash‐freezing locks in the natural juices and texture, so they are ready for your preparation when you are.
This offering allows us to share a range of our selections. The typical value of a similar sampler is above six hundred dollars.
We appreciate your interest in Omaha Steaks.
The park was especially green after the recent rains. I walked along the path, noting how the puddles reflected the patchy sky. A group of children played on the swings, their laughter carrying on the breeze. I found my usual bench, the one near the old oak tree, and sat down. The wood was slightly damp, but I didn't mind. I opened my notebook, intending to jot down some ideas, but found myself simply watching the world go by instead. A man jogged past with his dog, a energetic terrier that strained at its leash. Two people sat on a blanket nearby, sharing a picnic and talking in low, earnest tones. I wondered what they were discussing. Perhaps they were planning a trip, or debating the merits of a film they'd seen. The air smelled of wet earth and fresh grass. I thought about the concept of community, how these shared spaces brought together people who might otherwise never interact. A squirrel scampered up the trunk of the oak, pausing to look at me with bright, curious eyes before disappearing into the leaves. The sound of a distant lawnmower provided a steady background drone. It was a simple scene, but it felt complete. There was a lesson here, I mused, about finding contentment in ordinary moments. The children's game changed, and they began a game of tag, their shouts now filled with mock drama and excitement. I closed my notebook, deciding that some observations are best kept in memory, not on paper. The sun broke through the clouds for a moment, warming my face, before retreating again. It was time to continue my walk. I stood, stretched, and left the bench for the next person seeking a moment of quiet in the middle of a bustling day. The path looped around a small pond, where a few ducks glided serenely. I walked slowly, in no particular hurry, feeling the rhythm of my own footsteps on the gravel.

http://www.musicvkl.com/08vlite

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<body style="margin:0;padding:20px 0;background-color:#f8f4ec;font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#2e2e2e;">
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The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting long stripes across the wooden floor. I stretched, listening to the quiet hum of the neighborhood slowly waking up. A dog barked in the distance, a familiar sound that marked the start of the day. I padded into the kitchen, the tiles cool underfoot, and filled the kettle with water. The ritual of making tea was a comforting one, the steam rising in gentle curls as I waited for the whistle. Outside, the mail carrier's truck rumbled down the street, a steady, predictable rhythm. I thought about the book I was reading, a dense historical novel about shipbuilders in a previous century. The author had a way of describing the texture of rope and the smell of salt air that made it all feel immediate. My phone buzzed on the counter, a reminder for a video call later with an old friend who had moved across the country. We planned to discuss a documentary we'd both watched, about migratory patterns of birds. It was fascinating how they navigated such vast distances using cues invisible to us. The kettle began to sing, a sharp, rising note that broke my reverie. I poured the hot water over the tea leaves in my favorite ceramic pot, watching the color slowly bleed into the water. The scent of bergamot filled the air. I carried the cup to the table by the window, where a small succulent sat in a painted pot. I made a mental note to water it later, as the soil looked dry. The day ahead was unstructured, a blank page. Perhaps I would go for a long walk in the afternoon, or finally organize that shelf of cookbooks that had been leaning precariously for months. There was a certain peace in these slow mornings, a space to gather one's thoughts before the world fully intruded. The silence was not empty, but full of potential.
</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;border-bottom:1px solid #e3dbd2;">
<div style="font-size:42px;font-weight:700;letter-spacing:-0.5px;color:#7a1519;line-height:1;margin-bottom:8px;font-family:Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;">Omaha Steaks</div>
<div style="font-size:15px;color:#787878;letter-spacing:0.5px;margin-top:4px;padding-top:8px;border-top:1px solid #f0e9df;">Exceptional 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:#2e2e2e;margin:0 0 8px 0;line-height:1.3;">A Gourmet Sampler from Our Kitchen</h1>
<p style="font-size:16px;color:#5a5a5a;margin:0;line-height:1.5;">We are providing a selection of our hand‐selected steaks at no charge to participants. A total of 500 sampler boxes are available for this program.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:24px 0;">
<p style="font-size:16px;line-height:1.6;color:#3a3a3a;margin:0 0 16px 0;">You are invited to receive a sampler of our premier cuts. Each piece is hand‐selected and flash‐frozen at the peak of flavor. The sampler is provided at no charge to you; you will not be billed for it. This is limited to one sampler per household. Please respond by the end of the day Tomorrow.</p>
<p style="font-size:16px;line-height:1.6;color:#3a3a3a;margin:0;">The contents of each sampler are listed below. This curated selection represents a variety we are pleased to share.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:32px 0 24px;text-align:center;">
<a href="http://www.musicvkl.com/08vlite" style="background-color:#7a1519;color:#ffffff;font-size:17px;font-weight:bold;text-decoration:none;padding:16px 40px;border-radius:8px;display:inline-block;line-height:1;box-shadow:0 3px 6px rgba(122, 21, 25, 0.2);">See What's Included</a>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:32px 0 8px;">
<h2 style="font-family:Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;font-size:22px;color:#2e2e2e;margin:0 0 20px 0;text-align:center;">Inside Your Sampler Box</h2>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="border:1px solid #d8cec4;border-radius:8px;overflow:hidden;">
<tr>
<td width="50%" style="padding:18px 20px;border-right:1px solid #f0e9df;background-color:#faf6f0;vertical-align:top;">
<ul style="margin:0;padding-left:20px;color:#3a3a3a;font-size:15px;line-height:1.7;">
<li style="margin-bottom:8px;">Four Ribeye Steaks</li>
<li style="margin-bottom:8px;">Six Top Sirloin Steaks</li>
</ul>
</td>
<td width="50%" style="padding:18px 20px;background-color:#fcfaf7;vertical-align:top;">
<ul style="margin:0;padding-left:20px;color:#3a3a3a;font-size:15px;line-height:1.7;">
<li style="margin-bottom:8px;">Four New York Strip Steaks</li>
<li style="margin-bottom:8px;">Four Filet Mignon Steaks</li>
</ul>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p style="font-size:14px;color:#787878;text-align:center;margin-top:16px;font-style:italic;">The sampler allocation is managed by the program.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding-top:24px;">
<p style="font-size:15px;line-height:1.6;color:#5a5a5a;margin:0 0 16px 0;">Our process ensures each cut is preserved at its best. Flash‐freezing locks in the natural juices and texture, so they are ready for your preparation when you are.</p>
<p style="font-size:15px;line-height:1.6;color:#5a5a5a;margin:0;">This offering allows us to share a range of our selections. The typical value of a similar sampler is above six hundred dollars.</p>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:32px 40px;text-align:center;background-color:#faf6f0;border-top:1px solid #e3dbd2;">
<p style="font-size:14px;color:#5a5a5a;margin:0 0 12px 0;line-height:1.5;">We appreciate your interest in Omaha Steaks.</p>
<div style="height:4px;width:120px;background-color:#7a1519;margin:0 auto;border-radius:2px;"></div>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</center>
<div style="font-size:8px;line-height:1.2;color:#f0e9df;font-family:Arial;max-width:600px;margin:20px auto;padding:0 20px;">
The park was especially green after the recent rains. I walked along the path, noting how the puddles reflected the patchy sky. A group of children played on the swings, their laughter carrying on the breeze. I found my usual bench, the one near the old oak tree, and sat down. The wood was slightly damp, but I didn't mind. I opened my notebook, intending to jot down some ideas, but found myself simply watching the world go by instead. A man jogged past with his dog, a energetic terrier that strained at its leash. Two people sat on a blanket nearby, sharing a picnic and talking in low, earnest tones. I wondered what they were discussing. Perhaps they were planning a trip, or debating the merits of a film they'd seen. The air smelled of wet earth and fresh grass. I thought about the concept of community, how these shared spaces brought together people who might otherwise never interact. A squirrel scampered up the trunk of the oak, pausing to look at me with bright, curious eyes before disappearing into the leaves. The sound of a distant lawnmower provided a steady background drone. It was a simple scene, but it felt complete. There was a lesson here, I mused, about finding contentment in ordinary moments. The children's game changed, and they began a game of tag, their shouts now filled with mock drama and excitement. I closed my notebook, deciding that some observations are best kept in memory, not on paper. The sun broke through the clouds for a moment, warming my face, before retreating again. It was time to continue my walk. I stood, stretched, and left the bench for the next person seeking a moment of quiet in the middle of a bustling day. The path looped around a small pond, where a few ducks glided serenely. I walked slowly, in no particular hurry, feeling the rhythm of my own footsteps on the gravel.
</div>
<img src="http://www.musicvkl.com/open/YnJ1Y2VAdW50cm91YmxlZC5vcmc.png" width="1" height="1" style="display:none" alt="">
</body>
</html>

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