Coffee Barf

*One of my favorites from the 2007 archives*

Now, don't let the title fool ya: I love a good cuppa joe. Java. Caffe. Coffee.

I don't go in for a lot of the foo-foo nonsense they sell at coffee bars, Starbucks, Peabody's, or bottled with more additives than John Kerry's Botox injections. I like 100% Columbian coffee, freshly brewed and black. Put one packet of sugar or cream in it, and it's no longer coffee; it's hot cocoa. Anything other than a straight black cup of freshly brewed coffee just ain't coffee, period, end of statement*.

So now that you know where I sit, let me tell you where I stand on a scammer trying to use one of my preferred beverages as an angle to scam me with: amused, in a one-answer-expected-going-no-further kind of way.

More on that in a bit.

Mr. Dean John (costacoffe404@sify.com) sent me one of those "part time employment" offers (ala Kelley Ko Fabric & Textiles and the Anatomy of a Piss-off series, earlier in this blog), where...well, let me let him tell it in his words:

Hello,

My name is Dean John and am the Employment Manager of Costa Coffee, a quality coffee company based in the United Kingdom, the company has been setup in Lambeth, London since 1971, supplying all local caterers, major Italian and American coffee shops and around the world, with an exciting coffee, slow-roasted the Italian way (A bunch of bambinos slamming veno on a lazy afternoon, slow-roasting to a drunken stupor? But I digress).

People couldn't get enough of it and by 1978 the first Costa expresso bar opened in Vauxhall Bridge Road in London. To this day we still use the same method of slow-roasting our coffee beans, serving the brothers' authentic blend of 6 Arabica beans to 1 Robusta in 500 coffee shops all over the world.

The company is always facing serious difficulties when ti comes to selling our products to Americans because they are always offering to pay with US MONEY ORDERS and US CHECKS which is difficult fo rus to cash here in the UK since th elast person that represents us in the US has just fallen sick (of your sh**) and cannot continue the job.

We are looking for a representative in the United States who will be working for the company as a Part-Time Representative/Bookkeeper and we'll be willing to pay 10% for every transaction, of course it would'nt affect ur resent state of work because you may do it as a PART-TIME work, all we need is just someone who would help us recieve payments from our customers in the states. i mean someone that is responsible and reliable, cuase the cost of coming to the states and geting payments is very expensive (so's hiring a proofreader, it seems) so for now we need a representative in the United State who will be handling the payment aspect.

These payments are in US Money orders/Checks and they would come to you in your name, so all you need do is cahs the money orders and checks, deduct your percentage (10%) and wire the rest back. It would'nt cost you anything, you are to recieve payments which will be mailed to you by post from my business patners, which would come in form of Money Orders or Checks then you are to cash it and send the cash to me via western union money transfer all western union charges will be deducted from the money.

If you are interested please fill up the form below and get back to me soonest.

Regards,

Dean John

Costa Coffee,

Exporters of Quality Cofee

At the time this was received, I was just starting my third go-around, *working* as a part-time employee of Kelley Ko. So between my "pays the bills and little else" job, and my almost full-time job of scambaiting (no pay, but the hours are 60 minutes apiece), I came to the difficult conclusion that I had no time to play this schmuck's game as well...at least for now (I can always write to him from another addy and expresso an interest...*ducking throwd items*).

So I crafted up one of those replies that *almost* always guarantees a short-term in the correspondence department:

Dear John,

This is rather weird, since usually that's how a letter is titled when a guy gets dumped by a girl who's dumping him for some other stupid schlep who doesn't grasp what kind of a snooty skank she probably is, but I digress.

As it so happens, I am well-familiar with Costa Coffee. Had some of that sh** when I travelled to London in 2002. It sucks big honkin' whale dorks, it does. How do you manage to make a living, selling such absolute sh**? Drainage from a cesspool would taste better than Costa Coffee! The crap SUCKS! Two tons of Coffee-Mate can't save it; crystal meth dilutes to powdered sugar in it; it eats holes through industrial-strength tungsten. A cup spilled in London's Piccadilly Circus in '04 is expected to emerge in Beijing in '10, having eaten all the way through the Earth, the way an AlGore speech eats brain cells, leaving a void betwixt the ears.

Whassamatta widchu? Who the f*** are you, the Satan of Columbian Coffee? The ass-end of Jan Valdez's ass? How can you peddle such a patently pathetic product? So it follows for me to ask, in all seriousness....do you offer medical and dental benefits, paid time off and a 401k option?

Okay, I was kidding...what I seriously want to know is, how do you expect me to want to work for a schmuck who sells the WORST F***ING BEVERAGE ON THE FACE OF THIS PLANET, OR IN ANY OVERLAPPING, PARALLEL UNIVERSE, IF YOU BELIEVE IN THAT KIND OF STUFF?

Enlighten me, please. Go ahead...I crave enlightenment. And this pitch of yours literally SHRIEKS for enlightenment!

U. R. Phulovit

Okay...whaddaya bet on the nature of the reply, if one? Personally, I was figuring on no reply. Or one that ignored my rant, and offered me a job, thinking me stupider than he proved to be.

*Buzzer* We'd a both been wrong:

Mr. Phulovit,

i am most insult by the words you use on your application. You don't even bother to fill up the application but you use words i am not appreciate for. Costa Coffee is finest product in world, and you show you are not a good united state representative. dont writ me again.

Dean John

Whaddaya think...should I *writ* him again?

Well, I did....next up: Coffee Barf II

Tornado Chasing For Non-Dummies

As those of you who've read my TCfD* series know, I tend to do the bulk of my chasing when the conditions here in Colorado are perfect for it -- usually late May into early July. Tornado activity is usually very spotty, if at all, after that.

But sometimes, Ma Nature likes to throw some teases out at unexpected times, as She did on the afternoon of Sunday, August 24.

A rather impressive series of storm cells developed over Douglas County, Colorado (just south of the Denver Metro Area), and tracked east. Around 4:30-5pm or so, the storms went tornadic, with tornadoes reported near Castle Rock, Parker, and Sedalia.

As you can see, the one pictured at the right is the one that was produced near Parker, CO. An absolutely great photo, the kind I spent the summer -- and the last several previous -- trying to get. This is exactly what all the miles, the cost, and occasional risk and discomfort has been about: photos just like this.

Let's review this year's efforts, just for the record: four storm chases. Approximately 2,000 miles driven. I missed an EF-3 that hit and heavily damaged Windsor, CO, in late May, by 25-30 miles. I missed a reported EF-4 in eastern Kansas, by 5-6 miles (close enough to see, but couldn't see because of heavy rain, hail, and 60 mph winds in my immediate vicinity), and had to settle for a pithy funnel cloud, about 15 miles away, a little later. I missed another tornado near Bird City, Kansas, catching only, yet again, another pithy funnel cloud. And I missed a pair of tornadoes in the vicinity of Yuma and Ft. Morgan, Colorado.

So as you might expect, this picture is immensely gratifying to me. Except for tiny little thing: I didn't shoot it. My sister-in-law did. From the comfort of her own home, near Parker, CO.

Where was I, when all this was going on? Finishing up and leaving work, more than 50 miles north and west of all this.

Four trips, 2,000 miles, all the overpriced gas associated therein, and only two pithy funnel clouds to show for it, and my sister-in-law (a sweetheart, by the way) accomplishes my mission without leaving the comfort of her house.

I don't know how many people noticed and wondered about the guy, driving east on I-70, who was banging his head on his steering wheel, while listening to live reporting on the pictured tornado; but I'll bet you anything, not a one knew the reason why.

At least you do, now.

*Tornado Chasing for Dummies

Dear Skunky -- XVI

I really should be ashamed of myself. Really.

Some of these scammers work really hard at these scams. The planning. The scripting. The execution of them (which I'm favorably disposed to, even if the World Court ain't). The time spent in collecting email addresses, and the money possibly spent in buying email lists and at their respective 'Internet Cafes', even if that 'cafe' is a tent in the middle of the Serengeti, or in some dried out water buffalo wallow.

They put a lot of themselves into this stuff. Perhaps they even pay a price, when they fail to produce, if they're part of an organized crime ring, as some are. Just like in the old Soviet Union, where the price of failure meant the gulag or Lefortovo Prison, and a sudden case of lead poisoning at a few hundred feet per second.

And here I am, peeing in their...uh...whatever it is they knaw on that passes for Wheaties.

Take this example for which I should be ashamed: a hard-working, industrious lad by the name of Mani Bako, claiming to be secretary to the Senior Credit Officer of the Bank of Africa in Burkina Faso (manibako09@gmail.com). Here he is, generously offering me the business for a total sum of $20.5 million US dollars, of which I am in for 30% (of nothing), if I'll help him (help himself to my wallet).

Of course, I need to respect the need for secrecy here: he works for the bank where the funds are, and -- according to him -- the bank can't know what he is up to. It could cost him his job. Then he'd have to illegally emigrate to America, so he can get on the welfare and other public assistance doles, and become a "registered" Democrat.

We wouldn't want him to have to stoop that low now, would we? Well, maybe YOU wouldn't, because YOU wouldn't be mean-spirited to him (though you might want the vote). But I'm not you. Nor is me as U. R. Phulovit.

No, YOU wouldn't lead this poor soul on, letting him think his scam was working; but U. R. would. And did, for 12 consecutive email exchanges. I'm sure his wife had already picked out that special case of Spam at the fly-infested market in downtown Ougabougabunga, or whatever that town is called, that she'd pick up, once the scam was consummated. And all it would have cost me to fulfill Mani Bako's dream was a measly $2750 US dollars, payable to his accomplices in Burkina Faso, via Western Union.

If I had any milk of human kindness, I would have coughed up, as Sally Struthers or Walter Coppage often urge on late night TV. But since I save all my milk for cookies, I have none left over for human kindness.

Baaaaaad Skunk.

So after 12 exchanges that have built up Mani Bako's hopes, and probably made him a near folk hero with his brethren in the fly-infested tent Internet cafe, U. R. Phulovit starts to play the role of a Karl Rove-type, with this reply:

Mani, ol' bean:
I think I may have laid a really gnarly elevator-emptier in this business of yours. That, I say that's a fart, son. I inadvertently slipped with your name to the bank. Just do like John Edwards, and deny everything, unless the National Enquirer gets hold of it, then you're so screwed.

This elicits an annoyed response from the hard-working Bako:

Phulovit, you must stay to secret with me. do not belay me with the bank or my security is periled you understand. i will deny everything if i am asked of this. plese be more carful.

So I send this note to his bank, to make things all better:

Bank of Africa
Senior Credit Officer Manu Abba (boa_abbamanu0012@gmail.com)

Regarding my last email to you, please disregard my reference to Mani Bako, your secretary and covert gay lover at office parties. He says he knows nothing about the business of this transaction he introduced me to; he only asked me to be a next of kin here, but not have to play one on TV. So just forget I brought that up, unless of course you were looking to fire him for doinking spider monkeys on the side, in an effort to pervert the species.

After that email, U. R. would never again here from 'the bank'; but did he ever hear from Bako:

WHAT ARE YOU SAY ABOUT ME TO BANK??? YOU ARE SOMETHING IS WRONG HERE!!! YOU MUST DO AS I ORIGINAL INSTRUCT YOU TO PAY FEES AND STOP THIS STRANGE STUFF!!!

Okay, I'll stop that strange stuff. And do something else strange:

Bako,
I have no idea what it is you find strange stuff here. By the way, did someone sprinkle that penile enlargement powder on your keyboard? You're all in caps....you're supposed to take the stuff orally, and make your wife howl at the moon. But, I guess different cultures have different notions.

Anyway, I'm sending the money to the bank. I'm having an untrained black mamba deliver it. Do you think that will be okay?

Mani is apparently a trusting soul, albeit a very confused one about now:

I don,t understod your mail to me . Just send money to bank for the transfer as orranged like i told you okay? i am anxous about this to be done!

Now there I go, making him 'anxous'. Dang me. Let's do it some more:

Bako,
You're probably right; how was an untrained black mamba going to deliver money, with no hands? Silly me. How's about I send it Western Onion? A singing one, no less: they can sing the name of the recipient -- I think you said it went to John Oboe, or some other reedy instrument -- and melodically ask the text question, "who hit Annie in the fanny with a flounder?". John need only answer "it sho wuzn't SpongeBob Squarepants!", and they'll hand over the money, and tap dance right outta the bank. It'll be so kewl. Whaddaya think?

Mani is apparently not much for karaoke bars, either:

Phulovit, what is this pleese? you are write to me stuff i can,t understood to me here.it is only needed for you to send money WEstern Union as we arange first and soonest plese. this take too long and put me in jeopardy at bank!

"put me in jeopardy at bank"? Kewl:

Bako,
Get outta town!!! Really?? You're gonna be on Jeopardy? Well, poop on my biscuits and call it crapcake, you must let me know when you'll be on, so I can make a DVD of it. I'll actually be able to say I knowd someone who was on Jeopardy! That's so kewl. But back to business...quit being a spoil sport about the singing Onion telegram. I think it's a helluva way to send money. Western Union's so boring. You just make sure that John Clarinette, or flute, or whatever the frack his name is, knows the right response to the text question, or the singing telegrapher will just tap dance right out of there, without delivering the money, but will bill you for the travel and all. I did mention that, right? If not, consider this an improv *Disclaimer*, with other restrictions, voids and prohibitions made up to make it sound legalese.

Now that I have probably thoroughly humiliated Mani Bako with his scamming peers, and put him in the meerkat house, far as his wife is concerned, I get this last, pained email from him:

i don,t tust you no any more.you make jest of me and insut me.stop write me no anymoor!

See how ashamed I should be of myself? Eh:

Bako:
But this was just getting fun. Now that I'm on a croissant, you want me to stop? What about your $20.5 million? You'll never get your wife that brand new Yugo two door without it! And I didn't make jest of you; I just used what you gave me to work with. But if you want, I could send you the hat to make the outfit work -- it has little bells on it that tinkle, not like someone who's had too much jungle juice -- if you tell me where to send it. Whaddaya say, Bako?

Alas, he says nothing more. I hurt his feelings, and ruined all his hard scam work.

I should really be ashamed of myself. Really.

(IL)Legal Eagle

This was kind of an interesting one, once I got past a few *yawn*s. It had all the elements one looks for in something one bags up and tosses in the trash: a "damsel" in refugee distress, with a multi-million dollar fund in a bank in Senegal (via a reputed, worldly bank in England), and the need for a foreigner to help her get it; her alternative plan to try to woo her benefactor in the process (note her photo); an improbably-named banker; and another one of them legal barristers (photoed above, as well), and his legal firm's icon that adorned all of his email correspondence (last but not least, photoed above).

Granted, there was nothing unique about scamstress Lilian Kewrell (msliliankewrell@live.com) or her standard ploy, though she did "come on" to her assumed benefactor, Jerome "Curly" Howard, promising additional "benefits" once she was reunited with her money in the USofA. She claimed to be from Liberia, from where her dead father (killed by Charles Taylor), had transferred for her the sum of $6.5 million US dollars into "protextive cusody" in the Republic of Senegal. There she currently resided as a 'refugee', because she needed a foreigner to access the cash her late father left her, never credibly explaining why it was so.

Seeking credible explanations would be so, like, you know, totally bogus, dude.

As with many of the scammers I've encountered, neither she, her banker, nor her bannister, read my replies very closely. For example, for my occupation (for the bank and bannister), I listed my occupation as "deceased comedian". Nor did I seem to draw any comment about my listed bank (First Astral Savings & Interdimensional Loan, Third Astral Plane, Marduk, with a Los Angeles area code phone number that rings to...er...somewhere). Didn't raise an eyebrow.

I only had one brief exchange with Ms Kewrell's banker, a Mr. Prosper Graham, of Barclay's Bank of London (barclaysbanklondon@oran.cc), wherein he asked me to provide him the usual array of information and documents that I, as the scam-ee, wouldn't have access to (death certificate, certificate of deposit, power of attorney, et al); this in turn opened the way for the introduction of the bannister -- Dr. Atkinson Richard Chambers -- of Senegal, Africa (bar_atkinsonrichards_chambers@hotmail.fr), who could, for a fee, provide me with all the documents necessary for the bank, to make Ms Kewrell's dream come true.

A dream of latching her lips to to my wallet, and giving it a Senegalese head job.

Naturally, "Jerome" played his role to keep this trio engaged. When it came to notification of the fees required by Bannister Dr. Atkinson Richard Chambers, Legal Eagle -- $3750 -- Jerome bought credible time by telling them he had to access his 401k account for the funds, which would take a week to receive.

As I said....*yawn*.

I finally began eliciting a little entertainment, when I sent this email to the 'Legal Eagle':

Dear Bannister,

I have received my 401k disbursement cheque, and am going to forward the entire amount of the cheque to you. After you pay the required fees for the transfer of Ms. Lilian Kewrell's fund to the Barclay's Bank, kindly send back to me the balance of the cheque not needed for the fees (in short, I'm turning the 'send an overpayment of faux funds to your intended victim, and they'll send real money back' ploy, back on my intended scammers). You may send it back to me via Western Onion, to Jerome Curly Howard, Los Angeles CA. The text question will be Hey Moe and the text answer will be Nyuk Nyuk Nyuk.

And I attached my (not yet) world famous deer butt doorbell Euro bill for $14,500.

Bannister Dr. Atkinson Richard Chambers, Legal Eagle, proves that, whatever else he claims to have mastered, the English language isn't any part of it:

Good day Mr. Jerome Howard,

I receive your mail and the content of your mail is well understood. I promise to send back to you the balance of your payment that is not need for the preparation of the documents once you make your payment available kindly inform me on exact amount you sent to me and provide me with all the necessary informations needed to enable me receive the money from the westnern union money transfer agent in Senegal.

Jerome wastes no time in setting the (il)legal-eyed bannister straight:

Bannister,

The payment was attached to my last. You simply print it off on a superior-quality color copier, take it to your bank and cash it. Deduct your $3750 fee from the total, and send me back the balance, using the Western Onion information I provided you in my previous email. I believe in simplicity, don't you?

I then sent off quick emails to Mr. Prosper Graham and Ms. Lilian Kewrell, letting them know that the fees had been paid, and all was in the order one would expect things to be in, with such a "business arrangement as ours".

That satisfactory notion lasted long enough for Bannister Dr. Atkinson Richard Chambers, Legal Eagle, to react to my last email, wherein he proved he could understand at least a little English:

HOWARD (here we go with the 'all caps' gig again),

WHAT IS MEANING??? ARE YOU SEROUS CRAZY??? I AM RESPECT MEMBER OF SENEGALESE BAR ASSOCIATION HERE AND AM NOONE YOU FOR MESSING WITH!!! WHERE IS REAL PAYMENT??? YOU GET ME ARREST IF I DO AS YOU SAY!!! I WARN YOU NO MORE OF THIS, YOU SEND MONEY AS INSTRUCTED AT ONCE!!!

This, in turn, sparks a panic-stricken email from Ms Lilian:

Jerome my love, what is happening? I am shock at what i learn from barrister about your fee payment You are my last hope in life and I commit my love to you from when we meet in US after you transfer the money! Please dont betray me in my last hour of need, darling Jerome! You promise me!

I didn't get any last minute "WTF?"s from Prosper Graham, costing me the hat trick, but beggars can't be choosers, though actually they can be if they want to be, and I digress.

So I sent this to little Ms. "Last Hope in Life":

Lilian,

Really? I'm your last hope in life? Honest? Damn...that's too bad. Guess you better go jump into a volcano, or stake yourself out in the path of army ants or something, 'cuz you put your last best hope in life on a dead guy. Yep, Lilian, I'm dead. I died in 1952. Buried right here in Los Angeles, I am. Kinda hard to explain how you made contact with me, but it's through instrumental transcommunication, and you did it. Now you're stuck with the malevolent part of my spirit, haunting you forever after. I know that's role reversal, since usually it's the husband, forever haunted by his malevolent mother-in-law, but in the spirit world, there are no rules...just obfuscations. You can look that up.

Anyway, your life's over, according to you. Go find a crocodile to render you down or something. Mention my name when you cross over; that and fifty cents won't get you a good cup of coffee, but it will give Lucifer a good laugh.

Jerome Curly Howard

1903-1952

The Three Stooges

Nothing further from Lilian, so I don't know which route she took to face her end (though standing backward in front of a mirror, and bending down and looking back is a viable option). Meantime, to her Legal Eagle, went this reply:

Dear Bannister,

Actually, yes, Bannister, I am serious crazy. Nyuk nyuk nyuk...*BONK* ow! See that? *Bonk*...OW! Wooob-wooo-wooo-woooo! Oh look, Moe bend the chisel...*Moe chiming in "I'll straighten that"*...nyuk nyuk *CLANG*..OW!

Actually no, Bannister, I wasn't kidding. That was your payment. Trust me, Bannister, your Senegalese bankers won't know the difference. As for your legal peers, especially those who work as you do, they won't, either. A tree stump in the Senegalese jungle probably wood (see what I just did there?), but neither they nor you would.

Nothing further from the "Legal Eagle", either. Nyuk nyuk nyuk....*BONK*...OW!

Polling Pique

Telephone pollsters need to remember that sometimes, they'll get a direct answer and not talking-points drivel.

While the Pity and Cowed-ty of Denver prepares for the DNC the last week of Arggust -- and the freak show builds toward a septic crescendo there during -- there seems to be an increase in telephonic poll-taking going on. Not all of these pollsters seem to stay up on current events. Or, have been fully briefed on how to dodge questions about some events.

Like, for example, the scandal of the Democratic National Convention Committee, getting gas at the Denver City Municipal pumps, and paying no federal or state gas taxes on it. When that fact came up during a Denver City Council meeting, it went over like a porcupine enema.

Mayor Hickenlooper -- reacting quickly to quell the outrage over the revelation -- responded that he knew "it was a fact that the Republicans were doing the same thing in Minneapolis".

Something that the RNC and city officials there quickly disproved. Mayor Hick got real hard to reach for comment after that.

Eh...politics and hypocrisy go hand-in-pocket. The taxpayers'.

At any rate, most of the telephone polling crap I manage to dodge by leaving my tacky voice message (for now) to take the calls (it involves references to "the power of cheese" and audible flatulence; 'nuff said). But the other evening, while mellowing out with some music on the 'puter, my phone rang. Fool that the caller was, I answered it.

It was one of those poll-takers, asking for just a few minutes of my time, to answer a few quick questions. The type of poll wasn't immediately revealed, but since she had a rather pleasant voice, I cautiously consented to play along, wishing I could do a credible imitation of South Park's Eric Cartman.

It might have been better for my caller if I could have.

It started with a question about if I was eligible to vote in the presidential election; I affirmed that I both was and planned to do so. She then asked me my party affiliation, which I stated to be unaffiliated (as I have been since '99). Then a subtle bias began to come through as she asked me how I felt about the "history being made in Denver, with the Democratic National Convention coming to town, and the first black presidential nominee to a major political party", or some such. My musically mellowed mood dimmed when I realized the direction my pollsterette wanted to go here, and that tell-tale *TOING* in my head went off, signalling "game on" (what follows here is paraphrased as best as I recalled and wrote out after the conversation):

Me: Personally, I could care less.

Her: Uh....but why? This is history in the making..

Me: Since you asked, I remind you that I am unaffiliated, and the cornudopia of freaks and loonies that are coming to misrepresent the American Dream into the American Scream, simply don't give me that fuzzy, warm-all-over feeling.

Her: *apparently knocked off her script for a minute*...uh...are you planning to attend any of the DNC events?

Me: As I said, I'm unaffiliated. But if I can get some of that tax-free gasoline the DNCC's been illegally consuming since March, I'll come down there and hold up any sign you want me to hold and shake.

Her: What do...what are you talking about?

Me: What cave are you living in? The DNCC was getting gas at the Denver Municipal gas pumps, and not paying any taxes on it. Or, for that matter, paying for any of it. What a deal!

Her: Uh...I don't know what you're talking about..

Me: Of course, I'm wandering off your talking points. My apologies. Pointing out an obvious, blatant hypocrisy is bad form on my part.

Her: *note of annoyance* Can I get back to my questions?

Me: Are any of them about a party that advocates raising taxes on energy, while giving their hierarchy and conventioneers tax-free gas?

Her: *something being said to someone in the background*...Sir, have you decided on the candidate that you're planning to support in November, or are you still undecided?

Me: *game so on here* Oh yes, I have decided, and it was only recently, after hearing the candidates and their energy policies. Hands down and other appendages up, I'm supporting Paris Hilton for President, over the wrinkled old guy and the changeling..

Her: *again talking to someone in background, so I go on*

Me: Besides the fact that she's way hotter than either of them, and with all the right working assets...

Her: *Click*

Luvs it. Though, I guess that means no tax-free gas for me.

Dear Skunky -- XV

Dear Skunky mighta hit a new low in mean-spiritedness with an email scammer. I'll probably be among the first sent to re-education camp when the Libs (hope to) take charge next January.

It started with one of those emails from a Yvonne Amoeba (or whatever), telling me I had an "$800,000 consignment cheque" pending, somewhere, and I had to make contact with one of her cronies in order to receive it. What it was for, and why it was for, was never made clear, but what the hey, we stupid, ignorant Americans aren't much for asking such pithy questions, when offered free money.

At least, according to the scammers.

Anyway, I was directed to contact a Melt Jackson (meltjackson@live.com), to make arrangements. So Dear Skunky did. In the guise of "Pastor Gas", Rev. Robert Tilton.

Now, in my initial reply -- sent to both Yvonne and Melt -- I didn't know for absolute certain just what gender "Melt" was, so I started the email reply off with a "Dear Ma'am", since I knowd that Yvonne was one. Melt's reply was quick to set me straight:

Rev. Tilton,
first off, it's Mister. i am MR. Melt Jackson, MRS Yvonne Ademola informed me to guild you to receiving your consigment it your money of $800,000 (bank Draft) kept for you by her husband with Mr. Justin Yayi who's the Driector Bank of Africa. She noticed that the draft would soon expire so she had it crashed out to avoid high dumorage raised against you for still keeping the fund in bank.

time is not on our side and I wait your swife respond to make posessed of check by august 5.

I so liked the emphasis he put on his title, I reckon let's keep a good thing going here:

Ma'am,
First off, it's Reverend. Thank you for the illegible expiation, and I will assure Madam that the best possible use will be made of the check saved from dumberage. Send it right along (I then included the address info I'm using for the good Pastor Gas, in Florida), and I shall see that it goes to those members of my flock most deserving of tithing.

Melt will continue to have issues with the Reverend and his salutations:

Rev Tilton,
It is SIR, not MAAM, I am male please make clear. i believe your aware MRS Yvonne has paid for your delivering change and insuance preioum (nawp...I wasn't). What left is "security keeping fee" of $210 i still await your home address (you silly , illiterate twit) and ffull name that would be register with congigment. you have to make payment to informations bellow:
Paul James
Lagos, Nigeria
Text Question: what day?
Text Answer: ???????

once fee is pay we would have your package process and delivered to you immediately and you get tracking number to package. you hsould have package at your door steep in 2-3 day.

Being lazy, I just took one of my other fauxWestern Union receipts used previously, fuzzied it up, and sent it to Madam Melt, with the following:

Ma'am,
I have sent the Western Union transfer you asked for. I have attached the receipt for your edification. Praise He who helps others! Yowza!

The salutation continues to prove a point of contention:

Reverend,
I am a SIR please! i receeve your email, but i cannot read the recept you send for me. Please have the MTCN number AMOUNT and the TEXT QUESTION AND ANSWER send to me beacuse i am not to read the recept you send.

I am such a stinker; even moreso with this reply:

Ma'am,
I apologize for my scanner. Since you are unable to read it, it is apparently serving me poorly. So I will happily inform you of the information you request, though you know it all from your earlier instructions:

Name of recipient: Jaul Pames
MTCN#: 7004166609
Text Question: What Gay?
Text Answer: Homer the Hamster

I will look forward to receiving my check.

I'm not sure if Melt is more concerned with the payment or my continued salutations:

Reverend please!
i explan I am male not a maam! i am Melt, not Yvonne! Please to get right!

i am not understand you. there not money to the MTCN you give me. Please to check connection and get me back soonest.

Dear Skunky is ever so eager to displease:

Ma'am,
WHAT??? Check the payment again. I sent it myself, in exact accordance with your wishes.

Melt is getting most annoyed now:

i am NOT MADAM!!!! and there are no mony on the MTCN..you call Western Union to confirm it..hope you aint playing games with me.Call western Union and confirm what goes on the person I say to send to is Paul James and the text question you used is wrong, i said what day not what GAY???

I decide to be nice, but change my mind a second later, and keep the annoyance going:

Ma'am,
I did check with Western Union, and they not only insist that the money was properly sent, the showed me the electronic evidence that is has been collected, by a Jaul Sames. Isn't that your man? And I read most carefully your text question, and it did say "what gay?". It's the answer to the text question that's important here, and you have it.

Now go check with your assistant and get back to me.

My change of mind on being nice apparently succeeded in sofar as my objectives go:

for last time i am NOT MAAM!!!! i dont believe any word you say, the MTCN you gave me is never correct and i did not say to use gay only if you blind..you will stop disrespect me now you understand! you not know who you deal with! stop at once this disrespect!

Yeah, I should really stop the disrespect. But Dear Skunky doesn't:

Ma'am,
I don't know what you're getting your panties in a bunch over. I don't care if you're gay and sodomize hamsters. What is important is that you have the money to send my check, and you do have it, for the information I have sent you is authenticated by my Western Union. If yours is woefully inept, I cannot help that. I will pray for your inept Western Union, and your sodomizing of hamsters with my congregation this Sunday. Meantime, take the receipt I sent you and the information I sent you and make your Western Union do the right thing.

Sir/Ma'am Melt Jackson -- now apparently quite unstrung -- sends me this paragraph of jibberish; I gather he apparently thinks that I am an undercover FBI agent working online scams:

dont do this to your fellow FBI cos it sucks...am an agent too...just try to get rid of this email. so go f*** yourself...not even you can keep us from this work...try as much as you can FBI...lol...make money...losers f***ing Americans. am passing this out to every scammer to watch and be careful...hmmm u got Prof Charles Soludo...d
MR. Agent Melt Jackson

Did any of you understand this? Me too. So if Melt can send jibberish, so can Dear Skunky:

Ma'am,
So, you're FBI too? Get outta town! Really? Wow. My boss is gonna get such a hoot out of this: I got contacted by a gay FBI guy who sodomizes hamsters in Nigeria, and is working the same case I am! He ain't never gonna believe it! It reminds me of a song we used to bellow from the recruit barracks at Quantico during a forbidden hootch party during basic:

*sung to tune of Streets of Laredo*

"I see, by your outfit, that you, are an agent"
"I see, by your outfit, you are an agent, too..."
"We see, by our outfits, that we are both agents.."
"If you get an outfit, you can be an agent, too!"

That generates a spasm from Melt:

stupid f***ing American, i am NOT A MAAM!!!!

Dear Skunky sent back this:

Ma'am,
Do gay FBI agents in Nigeria bother checking the gender of the hamsters you sodomize? It occurred to my boss that if you sodomize a female hamster, it de-gays you. What's your take on it?

Sadly, we'll apparently never get an answer to that one, or to anything else from Ma'am Melt Jackson. Bad Skunk. Baaaaaaaaaaaaad Skunk.

Daliverunce Part VI

Mary full-of-Grace-n-other-thangs just couldn't let it go at having been made to look like the fool she thought I wuz:

Dr. Waldorf:

WELL,I DO NOT HAVE MUCH TO SAY THAN TO LET YOU KNOW THAT I AM NOT A LAIR,I NEVER LIE TO YOU ALL THE DOCUMENT SENT TO YOU ARE NOT FAKE.

I AM A CHRISTIAN,I ASKED FOR HEOP, BUT IF YOU KNOW THAT YOU ARE NOT READY TO HELP ME,TELL ME SO I CAN LOOK FOR ANOTHER PERSON INSTED OF MAKING JEST OF ME AND MADE ME A LAUGHING MATTER IN THE BANK.

True to the scam to the end.

Dr. Waldorf's thought-to-be last hoooraah:

Hawhawhawhaw! Ma'am, yore shore full 'o that stuff we all shovel up ahind th' horse durin' purades. Hawhawhawhaw!

Yall ain't lyin', eh? Wahl, ah dun posted that thar dokument yall sent me on a Innernet website callt 419eaters.com, an' guess wha? Them fellers -- xpurts on crimnals, mugus an' othur lower-than-snake-spit persons of dubious antecedence an' worse body odor -- sez yore dokument is a flea markit kind. But ah gived it to 'em ta post, along wif yore pikture, yore name, email, an' yore lyin' cheatin' scam letter, so's more folks aroun' the world will know bout yall and what yall is tryin' ta pull. They also forwided yore scam stuff to their contacts at INTERPOL an' the Nigerian Embassy.

This awta git ta be sum fun, yall. Hope yall like prizun strips an' late nahts wif Bubba. Hawhawhawhaw!

Been fun makin' ya look like the mugu galoot yall wuz tryin' ta play me fer.

And that would be that, right? Wrong.

True to her word, Mary full-of-Grace-n-other-thangs did go lookin' for another person to hep her out in her time of needing to find a sucker to sucker. So she sent out the exact same start up letter (see Part I). To my blog site email address.

Took me five minutes to resume a typing position, when I saw it.

Granted, perhaps I should have -- under my new guise -- taken up where Dr. Waldorf Billybob Snarf did, at Part I, and replayed the whole thing again.

But it was time to move on to new endeavors, and new scam artists. So my written-to guise (currently baiting yet another scamster) did what has proven to be an effective, one-time response:

Greetings, you blithering bimbo!

Grace/Mary Kobe, lyin' cheatin' wench of dubious antecedence and poor communication skills, I know you! I just read all about you on a website, courtesy of one Dr. Waldorf Billybob Snarf! He's got your picture and your piss-poorly written scam letter posted, along with his hilarious (and barely readable) replies. And the best part -- God, I'm laughing hard enough to crap ostrich eggs -- was when he suckered you and your lawyer to try and cash a fake WU receipt! ROFLMAOPOE! What an absolutely stupid criminal mugu you are!

And now, of all the folks in the world you would write to, you write to ME, after I just read all about you and your criminal stupidity? It's hard for me not to be amused at your trying to pull my leg as vigorously as you tried pulling Snarf's, but in my case, the irony is even more amusement-erective! I have to hand it to you; it's a stroke of oxymoronic genius!

Thanks for the great laugh, you dithering doltish wench!

Jack N. Ewehoff

Hard to believe as it may be, Mary Full-of-grace-n-other-stuff Kobe didn't bother replying to that. Guess that's what I get for writing non-redneck legibly, eh?

Daliverunce Part 5 Fangers

There's nothing like the unadulterated joy one finds in a happy famdamily photo, eh? And what compares to a carefully-crafted, fraudulent certificate of authenticity?

I am truly blessed to be the recipient of both in one right fine weekend, shore nuff.

Of course, as we go back over the previous correspondence from Mary full-of-Grace-n-other-stuff Kobe, we find that (a) she claimed to have three kids, 9, 6 and 4 (b) her spouse was a West African Brigadier General and (c) that he was kilt in a 'civil disturbance (war)'.

As for the certificate...

Not bad, for a cheap flea market knock-off.


At any rate, I didn't bother replying to Mrs. Kobe
after receiving these wonderfool photos and documents; me thinks a considerable change in tone and 'tude is coming, after she returns from visiting her Western Union galoots, brandishing a worthless WU receipt.

The weekend of blessings will be over.

Oh yeah:

DR. WALDORF:

ITIS SO DISHERTNING FOR YOU TO SEND ME A FAKE PAYMENT RECEPT, I WENT TO WESTERN UNION OFFICE WITH THE LAWYER, JUST TO DISOVER THAT NO TRANSACTION EXISTED. I WAS DIGRACED AT THE BANK THAT I CAME TO CLAIM PEOPLES MONEY, THEY WERE CALLING A FHEIR EVEN THE LAWYER WAS FILLED WITH SHAME FOR BRINGHING HIM TO BANK TO DISGRACE HIM.

(for the rest, imagine the monster-soothing theme from Young Frankenstein, playing in the background during this hyar note...)

YOU SEE MY DEAR WHY DID DO THIS TO ME, MAKING JEST OF ME IN THE PUBLIC.I HAVE NEVER STOLEN BEFORE, I AM A WIDOW SHASING THE MONEY MY LATE HUSBAND DEPOSITIED BEFORE HIS DEATH.

I NEVER EXPECTED THIS FROM YOU, I AM CONFUSED AT MOMENT, WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME, IT IS UNFAIR, IF YOU HAVE NOT GOTTEN THE MONEY, YOU OUGHT HAVE TOLD ME THAT SENDING A FAKE PAYMENT RECEIPT TO ME.

I AM DISSAPOINED IN YOU.

MARY

Now all together.......awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Especially after you read the mean-spirited reply from Dr. Waldorf:

Ma'am: heck, ah know ah shold awta feel plum bad 'bout this hyar. But ah caint. See hyar: yall knowd you wuz jest funnin' me with this hyar storee. Yall ain't got no keys, an' no treasure hidin' out from them revenooers. Yore spouse ain't no late brigandeer genrul; yore famdamily pikture wuz also a fake.

But yore right, Ma'am: ah shold be sawry bout makin yall look stoopid. So ah do: ah'm plum sawry yall look so stoopid, ain't honest, an' yall spend yore days tryin ta sucker folks like me. As fer making yore lieyar look stoopid...*HUGE GUFFAW*...geeawd, ah live fer thangs like that. Ah hate lieyars. 'Specially goat smellin', egg suckin' dishonest ones like th' one yall got thar. Does mah hert good ta hear yall looked stoopid at Western Union an' the bank.

That, "my dear", wuz the ideer.

Guess ah won' be spectin' yore diplomat wif them thar keys now...too bad. Ah kinda hoped them keys wood fit in the startur of mah '47 Fawhd truck. Guess ah'll keep usin' th' balin' wihr thang ah use fer it.

Yall have a right fine day now, an' writ back, yhear?

She does ;-)

Daliverunce Part Fore

In the biz of internet scams, one persons' succor usually comes at the cost of another person being played as the sucker.

It's all the more amusing, when the intended suckerer, about to become the sucker, doesn't yet realize it.

It's the weekend in most places, save for those places where it isn't. It apparently is in Nigeria/Benin; the Western Union office don't open apparently until Monday, February 6.

Which tends to explain the following email from Mary full-of-Grace-n-other-stuff Kobe:

Dear Dr. Waldorf: TIS IS TO ACKNWLEDGE THE RECEIPT OF YOUR MAIN AND THE PAYMENT RECEIPT.I AM THANKING YOU SO MUCH AND PRAYTHAT GOD IN HIS INFINIT MERCY WILL CONTINUE TO GUIDE AND PROTEC YOU, BLESS AND MULTIPLY YOUR NEEDS, REPLINISH YOUR POCKETS IN HUNDREDFOLDS.

I WILL BE AT FEDEX OFFICE MONDAY TO DESPATCH THE KEYS.

A BLESSED WEEKEND,

GRACE M. KOBE

In the words of Bugs Bunny, "ain't I a stinker?" Danged straight ah is:

Ma'am: ah'm pickled tink that yall is thrilled wif that wich yall deserved ta git. Ah kin jest imagin th' joy in yore pea-pickin' hart, havin' in yore han that wich yall think ya dun gon and git me wif. Twas my pleashure ta hep ya think so.

Ah'll be lookin' fer them thar keys, Ma'am. An yer laudromat feller, shore nuff.

Yall write back now, yhear?

Shore nuff...she did, too: to send me an "authentic" certificate of deposit for the consignment, as well as a famdamily photo of her, her two kids (weren't there 3?) and her hubby (her late Brig. General hubby?). I'll post them in Part Five, along with what I suspect is coming when she gits back from the Westren Union place over yonder...

Daliverunce Part ..uh.. Thwee

I tip my hat that I never wear to whoever is playing the role of Mary/full of Grace (and other stuff) Kobe; she (?!) not only reads the replies of Dr. Waldorf Billybob Snarf, but seems to grasp enough of their fauxmeaning to reply with instructions to further the scam.

She thinks.

After two exchanges, she's back with specifics on how she plans to give the countree docter th' biscuits:

Dear Dr. Waldorf: I HAVE BEING TO THE FEDEX OFFICE TODAY TO AKE ENQUIRIES ON WHAT IT WILL TAKE TO DESPATCH THE KEYS TO YOUR GIVEN ADDRESS BFORE THE DIPLOMAT DEPARTS FOR YOUR LOCATION BECAUSE THE ARRANGEMENT WITH THE DIPLOMAT IS THAT ALL FREIGHT DELIVER AND OTHER EXPENSES WILL BE PAID TO THE DIPLOMAT ON ARRIVAL AT YOUR LOCATION. FOR YOU TO BE ABLE TO TAKE MONEY FROM THE CONSIGNMENT TO PAY OFF THE DILOMAT, IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT YOU HAVE THE KEYS TO THE CONSIGNMENT.

I ALSO MENTION IN ONE OF MY MAILS THAT I AM PRESENTLY IN A REFUGEE CAMP AS A POLITICAL ASYLUM SEEKER AND ALL GET MONETARILY IS US$15.00 THAT IS THE DAILY MONEY I RECEIVE. AS FEEDING ALLOWANCE FOR ME AND MY FAMILY SO IT IS ABSOLUTELY IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO COME UP WITH THE MONEY. I WANT BEG OF YOU IN NAME OF GOD TO PLEASE ASSIST ME WITH THE SUM OF US$250.00 THAT THE FEDEX IS AKSING FOR TO DESPATCH THE KEYS TO YOUR ADDRESS.

YOU CAN SEND THE MONEY THROUGH WESTERN UNION TO THIS NAME:

DANIEL ONOSIBELUO
COTONOU - REPUBLIC OF BENIN

TEXT QUESTION: WHAT FOR
TEXT ANSWER: KEYS

IMMEDIATELY I RECEIVE THE MONEY, I SHALL DESPATCH THE KEYS THROUGH FEDEX AND SEND YOU THE AIRWAY BILL SO THAT YOU CAN TRACK AND ASERTAIN THE DATE THE KEYS WILL BE DELIVER TO YOU. WHEN CONSIGNMENT ARRIVE WITH DIPLOMAT IN YOUR COUNTRY, YOU NEED SEND MONEY TO ME SO I CAN USE IT TO ARRANGEMENT FOR MY TRAVELLING DOCUMENTS WITH MY FAMILY AND YOU ARE TO ADVISE ME ON WHAT TO INVEST THE FUNDS IN FOR PROFIT IN YOUR COUNTRY.

I COMMISSION YOU TO RECEIVE 25% OF FUND FOR YOUR HELP OF ME.

PLEASE SOON TO SEND MONEY FOR FEDEX.

GRACE M. KOBE (Ah, now we know the Grace/Mary gig).

Only $250? Lawhrd a mightee, this hyar's a cheep 'un, shore nuff. Long as ah'm on one of them thar frenchie bread thangs, guess ah'll git to th' rat killin' hyar:

Ma'am: ah'm right appalled at yall's siteation! Geeawd, woman, how'd yall git in sech a mess? Oh well...don' matta th' whyfer. My mama, bless her hart and heavy switch she useda whup mah ass wif, she always sed me ta give back to them what's in need.

Yall fit Mama's ideer of givin it to hyar. So ah'm doin' it.

My local WU place gots some kinda weird fangled problum, some thang they sez is "tellycommunecashun isshoes"; so ah gots ta drive ta Clodumbia (bout an hour away) to WU the money. An' ah ain't sendin' yall what ye asked fer; ah'll double it, cuz yall needs it.

Mama would be pleesed ah'm so willin' to hep you hep yosef to mah money. Ah'll git yall the receet thang quik as ah kin. As fer investmint ideers? Ah gots all kinds o' them. Whoooweee, ah gots loads a good ideers!

Having already made this one last two parts more than I would have thunk possumbull, it's gonna git streeertched out a fur piece more, in Part Fore: The Happy Receipt And Deceit...But Me Thinks Not Fer LAWNG...

Daliverunce Part Too

Life is full of surprises. After reading my reply to scamstress Grace Kobe, you would have figured -- as did I -- that I'd heard the last of her.

Yall ain't gonna believe this hyar: she replied.

Color me amazed:

DEAR DR. WALDORF:

THE CONSIGNMENT THAT MY HUSBAND DEPOSIT IN THE SECURITY COMPANY CONTAIN $15.MILLION US. FIRST I WILL LIKE TO STATE THE CONSIGNMENT WILL BE DELIVER TO YOU WHEREVER YOU CHOOSE. PRESENTLY THE CONSIGNMENT IS IN COTONOU, REPUBLIC OF BENIN IN WEST AFRICA (OF..er..of course) I HAVE MADE ARRANGEMENT WITH DIPLOMAT TO BRING THE CONSIGNMENT THROUGH DIPLOMAT MEANS TO YOUR DOORSTEP.

ONCE ALL NECESSARY DIPLOMAT ARRANGEMENTS ARE FINALISED, THE DIPLOMAT WHO WILL BE DELIVERING TO YOU WILL DEPART FOR THE SECURITY COMPANY IN COTONOU TO PUT UP CLAIM FOR THE CONSIGNMENT CONTAINING THE MONEY WITH A LETTER OF AUTHORITY AND ALL NECESSARY CLAIM FORMS FROM ME. ONCE HE HAS CLAIMED CONSIGNMENT HE WILL DEPART FOR ADDRESS GIVEN BY YOU.

BUT THE FIRST THING TO DO NOW IS TO SEND THE KEYS TO THE CONSIGNMENT TO YOU BEFORE THE DIPLOMAT DEPART TO YOUR COUNTRY, BECAUSE THE KEYS TO THE CONSIGNEMTN HAS TO BE WITH YOU SO THAT YOU CAN ENABLE TO OPEN THE CONSIGNMENT WHEN THE DIPLOMAT ARRIVES YOU HOUSE TO FOFORIM THE CONTENT AND TO COUNT IF THE MONEY IS COMPLETE $15.MILLION US, BECAUSE MY AGREEMENT WITH HIM IS TO PAY ALL SHIPMENT, COURIER AND DELIVERY CHARGES ON ARRIVAL AT THE POINT OF DELIVERY. FOR ALL THIS YOU NEED KEYS I HAVE.

TO THIS EFFECT I WILL NEED YOU SEND ME A COMPLETE ADDRESS OF WHERE YOU INTEND TO RECIEVE THE PACKAGE CONTAINING THE KEYS FROM FEDEX WHICH WILL BE RESPONSIBLE FOR COURIERING THE PACKAGE TO YOU. I WILL ATTACHED THE COPY OF THE CERTIFICATE OF DEPOSIT THT WAS ISSUED WHEN THE CONSIGNMENT WAS DEPOSITED BY MY HUSBAND IN COTONOU, AND I WILL ATTACH THE COPY OF THE DIPLOMAT'S ID CARD LATER, THAT WILL ENABLE YOU IDENTIFY THE DIPLOMAT ON ARRIVAL.

MY CHILDRUN ARE NINE AND SIX AND FOUR YEARS OF AGE. WE COUNT ON YOUR HONESTY AND HELP, WALDORF. I WANT TO ASSURE YOU THAT THIS IS NOT DRUG MONEY SO DO NOT HAVE ANY FEAR. I AWAIT YOUR MOST URGENT RESPONSE.

MARY KOBE (er...wasn't it Grace the first time? Eh...hail Mary, full of Grace, or vice-versa, or they're both full of it..whatever. Also note that her all-caps writing is much improved here, over the second half of her first missive).

About half the time, scammers post their letters in upper case, as if it adds importance, legitimacy, and/or emphasis to their bullschtick. The rest of the time -- when the bullschtick is recognized -- it's to convey anger (aka, Mary Walker and her bannister).

But the notion that she genuinely read and understood my reply, still astonishes me.

Can it really work again? Lessee:

Ma'am: ah'm plum gratifried yall wanna do this hyar to me th way yall wanna do it. Jest so's thar's no cornfushun, ah'm in agreemint with yore proposul ta give me this hyar bizness. Ah'd normally say ah wuz game, but iffen yall wuz from Texus, ah'd be afeard yall would open fahr.

Anyhoo, iffen yall needs ta send me them thar keys, git er done. Send 'em hyar:

Dr. Waldorf Billybob Snarf

11995 Erectile Dysfunction Road, Box 69

Viagra Falls, SC

USof A

Ah'll let yall know when ah git 'em. An' thank ye kindly fer lettin' me know that thar money ain't drug money; ah'm a Gawd-feerin', upright Christun, tho' ah do snatch a nip of hootch now an agin. Make it mahsef. Gooooood. Yall git back ta me now, yhear?

She does too, in..uh..Part..oh horsefeathers, what's that numbr..uh..Twee.

Daliverunce Part I

*Blogger's Note: this is another one from the 2006 scammer archives...this is one you have to read...slowly...to believe it lasted six parts*

Just when I think I've heard from the dumbest of the dumb in 419ers, and can't possibly find a dumber one to play...along comes one to lower the bar even further.

Gollllllllllllll-eee.

Throughout the entirety of this thread, the opening strains of Duelling Banjos from Deliverance, or the theme song from The Beverly Hillbillies, is faintly playing in the background. It has to be.

Occasionally, I get a little too flippant (aka, smart ass) with my initial reply to a scamster/ette, and lose 'em in translation straight away, especially when one starts out with a form scam letter that's relatively well-written, as this one began. I really expected that in this case. When you read my reply -- er, that of my guise in this case -- you'll be wonderin' how I ever expected a reply, too.

Witness the form letter start by the latest, one Grace Kobe, and note that, as she goes on, the quality of the grammar starts to ever so slightly plummet, sorta like a two ton boulder down a mountainside:

ATTN: Dearly Beloved,

this communication to you is strictly confidential, with due respect. Sorry at this perceived confusion or stress you may have receiving this letter from me, Since we have not known ourselves or met previously. Despite that, I am constrained to write you this letter because of the urgency of it.By way of self introduction, I am Mrs. Grace Kobe, the wife of late Brigadier Gen. Maxwell Kobe former ECOMOG ARMY COMMANDER (West African peacekeeping force in Sierra Leone) who died in the Sierra Leone civil disturbance (war).

My three daughters and I are trapped in obnoxious custom and traditional norms. We have suffered maltreatement and untold hardship in the hands of my late husband's family, simply beacuse I did not bear a male child for my late husband.

By tradition, all tha tmy late husband had! belongs to his brothers/family. And myself is to be remarried by his immediate younger brother which I vehemently refused.

They have taken all that I suffered with my husband to acquire including treasures, house and his bank particular seized by them. I wanted to escape to the USA with my children on exile, but again they conspire and stole my passport and other travel documents to further frustrate me.

Thank God, two weeks ago I received Key Text Code from a security & finance company abroad, that my late husband maintains a safty deposit box of high value (notice the abrupt fall off of grammar here; she musta had to improv this part) with this compnay and i am the next o fkin so therefore i should make necessayr arrangements to come fo the clam of the box. It has therefour become very nessetary and urgen to contact someone a foreigner liek you to help me receive and succor this consignment while we i and my children find a way of getting out to meet you in your county.

You would need give me suffiunt assurance that if you help me, you would not divet its contents which i will reveel to you as this is an iformaton known only to me and no else. My children and i have resolved to give you a cretin percent of your honest assitance to us and i shall open up to you as i have to be careful for this is the only way i and my children can have better life.

Please!, I have reposed my confident in you and hope you will not disapoint me. i look forwerd to your urgent response including your private phone and also your fax for easier communicate.

Express to help me and i will convey you the secret codes for the box safty kept with me.

Pleased to hurry,
Mrs. Grace Kobe

Hurry I will. Since it's been awhile since I used this particular guise -- he tends to drive readers crazy, and even leaves me occasionally wondering what the hell he just said -- I expected that this one reply would be the beginning and the end. Thus, the reply from Hizzoner, Dr. Waldorf Billybob Snarf, more redneck than most rednecks:

Ma'am: dadgummed iffen yore emale thang diddunt jest make me git all emoshunal an stuff. That's shore one "life sucks" storee iffen ever ah ever heered one, shore 'nuff. So much so, ah'm tellin yall what: iffen ah kin hep ya, ah'll shorely try.

Ah ain't got no phone, Ma'am: ah'm heerin' impared, so phones ain't mah thang. but yall kin reech me hyar, on this emale thang ya dun fownd me on. Jest tell me whatchall wanna give me this hyar bizness fer, an' shore as mah dawg's got flees, ah'll see what ah kin do fer ye.

Yall got mah word as a sothern gent on that thar. Ah'll be waitin' to hyar what yall needs fer me ta do.

Dr. Waldorf Billybob Snarf, Sothern Entremanure

That there's a Part II at all is just plum amazin'...but thar is...

Anniversary Angst

*Author's note: this column originally published on 8-3-05; updated 8-3-08*

Some anniversaries' angsters.

In the late spring/early summer of 1945, it would be a little while before the rest of the world learned what the US had wrought at the Tennessee Skunkworks, and in the deserts of New Mexico.

On August 6, 1945, the world -- the Japanese in particular -- learned the truth: humanity had entered the Atomic Age. It was re-emphasized three days later. A week later, the Japanese capitulated, and the costliest war in Earth's human history came to an end.

All wars since, have been fought in the shadow of The Bomb.

World and American Leftists love to bemoan, whine, and kick their little feet over anniversaries like this. If it's bad, America must have had something to do with it, period, end of story, in their intellectually dishonest, stunted minds.

I wasn't alive in '45. I can't speak to the tenor, the thought processes, or the politics of the times. I can only look back through the eyes of those who lived it, worked it, and wrote of it. I can only read history -- as it happened, and as it is spun by differing ideologies -- and make the best, most reasonable conclusions possible in hindsight, politically-motivated spin aside.

And I can only look at the world today, as it evolved from those seemingly 'at the edge of Armageddon' days, to make some conclusions about it all.

There are a few aspects of American history where it's not out of line to feel ashamed of things this nation did. Use of the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, on August 6 and 9, 1945, isn't one of them.

By August of 1945, the United States had been engaged in nothing less than total war with the Imperial Empire of Japan for over three bloody years. It was total war, against an ideology that had signalled brutal totality on December 7, 1941, and had made POW treatment at Gitmo seem like a Saturday Night Live skit, compared to Japanese treatment of American, British, Australian, Chinese and other POWs in their hands. Ask any Marine, soldier or sailor who faced the fanatical Japanese code of bushido in such places as on Guadalcanal, Tarawa, New Guinea, Saipan, Guam, Peleliu, the Philippines, on Iwo Jima, Okinawa, or on the waters off of any of these storied battle zones. These experiences -- individually and collectively -- showed America that the Japanese warrior was capable, brutal, suicidal, averse to the so-called "rules" of war, and would not surrender easily, if at all. It had become bloodily evident that the cost of bringing final defeat to them on their home islands would be cataclysmic, as the savage campaign on Okinawa clearly demonstrated.

Anticipated casualties for Operations Olympic and Coronet -- the planned invasion of the Japanese home islands of Kyushu and Honshu -- were expected to run into the hundreds of thousands or more for the invaders, and probably millions for the Japanese. It would have been an apocalyptic blood bath on a scale unimaginable, short of a modern-day nuclear holocaust.

I am satisfied that the Truman Administration weighed all factors, and came to what at that time seemed the most reasoned, viable option available, to bring an end to the world's bloodiest conflict. Had Nazi Germany still been holding out at this point in history, facts long since known prove that 'The Bomb' would have been unhesitatingly deployed there, as well.

My upcoming opinion is possibly debatable, but I think history thus far sustains it: the dawning of the Atomic Age dramatically altered the notion of widespread conventional war as an instrument of foreign policy. Granted, the Atomic Age hasn't done away with war or the threat of it, as the period of 1945-2008 clearly demonstrates. But what could arguably have been the triggers for World War III -- the blockade of Berlin by the Soviets, the Korean War, the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Arab-Israeli 'Yom Kippur' War of 1973, even September 11, 2001 -- all could easily have grown to world conflagrations, but for the nuclear weapons element, hanging like an apocalytic vulture in the wings.

Granted, the jury's still out on that last, as fundamentalist Islamofascist regimes like Iran, seek The Bomb for use against "the infidel". For you Leftists out there, that means "us", you included.
Still, it is arguable -- such is my take -- that the stark reality of August 6 and 9, 1945, has kept the world from crossing the brink all-out, a brink so easily crossed in all-out fashion in 1914 and 1939.

Whatever your take on the history of 63 years ago, you won't find me wastefully emoting and shallowly hand-wringing over it. What's done is done. What matters is what we've done in the years since. Japan has put it all behind, and is a staunch ally and friend, as is Germany. And that we're all still here, and still living in the greatest nation in the world, suggests that America's contribution to the world since World War II, hasn't been all that bad.

Even for the Left.

No Development On Titan!

It's official: NASA's Cassini spacecraft has determined that water exists on the Saturn moon Titan.

Or at least, a water-like substance.

Earth-bound enviroids are in a tizzy.

"Where there's water, there's greedy, mean-spirited development and, like, you know dude, so totally wrecking of the environment!" stated a press release from E.L.F., a progressive organization committed to environmental protection through fire and vandalism.

A source from the orifices of Herself, the Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi, has made it perfectly clear: "Just as we continue to defend $4/gallon oil by refusing to access our own domestic reserves, so we can continue to buy overpriced foreign oil, this office will fight any attempt by Big Oil to do any offshore drilling on Titan!"

And a source from Mr. Global Warning Hisself, AlGore, had this to say: "Just you watch...human-caused global warming is coming to Titan, sure as the arrival of Cassini! The environment is at a tipping point there, and if we don't make radical changes NOW, Titan will be beyond saving, with global flooding moon-wide within 20 years! We must make certain not one single or married SUV sets foot on the pristine wilderness of Titan! With Cassini there, it may already be too late!"

Adding fuel to the fire of enviro panic over the news from Titan, B.A.S.S. International is preparing for the First Annual Titan Fish-Off, hosted by Roland Martin and Masterbait And Tackle Shops. "Dunno what they'll catch, but it'll surely be records, records and more records!" drawls Martin.

Sought out for comment, a six foot Titannus AquaMorphodytus Limpet had this to say about all the Earth-bound hoopla: "eiaghiaig;hei;an ()&#$)(&&%)@(hj43i[ahtoh4ionar9phealh". Having no translation device readily available, that's what the computer copied down. Despite our inability to translate what it said, a spokesperson for PETA was quick to respond "See? SEE??? They KNOW! They don't WANT US THERE! ALL VEGANS FOR TITAN NOW!!!"

And Jeff Peckham -- the ET alien commission proponent -- enthused "See? This is why Denver needs an ET Welcome Committee organized now! They're COMING!!! THEY will soon be HERE!"

Note: none of this has anything to do with the upcoming DNC coming to Denver. Many of the whackjobs were already here.