"Huh?"

Yeah...I know you all thought that this was Barry Soetero.

The position is the same, but not this time...it's just a scammer.

A scammer with an "Esq" after his name.

After taking Morgan Phillips original email and editing it, I sent it back to him, some of his colleagues, and a few friends and family.

What he got back apparently ain't what he expected.

Here's what he got back:


From Morgan Phillips, Esq.
Send Your Response Email To My Private Box: morphills.com@gmail.com


Greetings to you, unicorn snatch.  I hope this e-mail reached you in the right frame
of mind. If it doesn't, please f**king change your atti-f**king-tude to the right

frame of mind.  You have ten seconds...*Jeopardy theme*.  Now let's to it.

 

Please do not be perplexed with this note because it is written on thrice-used,

twice rinced toilet paper.  Gloves, dude.

 

A woman named Elizabeth Berlant -- a name I got carved off a tree at our

local scammer brothel behind the fly-infested internet café tent -- watched the

South Park episode about queefing, and since then she' become a queef queen

of the Nigerian outhouse pits.  Yowza.

 

By the way, would one of you bastards PLEASE explain what "yowza" means?

 

Anyway, one day I was performing my legal duty -- masturbating an emu --
and I discovered that this is really a sick way to earn a living.

 

Yuck.

 

Instead, I want to become a Somali pirate like Eric Cartman did.

 

I've always liked hooks, bloats and pelicans.  I think.

 

My handler is yelling at me, telling me to stay on talking points.  Who the fuck

he think he is, Hillary Rodehard-put-away-wet Clinton?  What difference it make?

I've applied for the release/transfer of 100 illegal-confined Palestinian goats,

and I await only an email that says "bahhhhhhhhh", which I am assured means

that my demands has been meeted, and the goats are now on their way to

Florida to graze placidly on Debbie Wasserpuss-Schlitz.

 

Goats aren't terribly picky.  They should be.

 

 I need to forward your information to the Bank for the Transfer of the
funds at once, which I realize I has not explained here because I've been

too busy driveling about pirates, snatches and some really slimey leftist

wenches of dubious antecedence and worst queefing odor.

 

With that in mind, Please outline the details as follows:

 

Name (Surname First):
Address/Zipcode/State:
Occupation:
Attach an Identification card (International Passport/Drivers License):

In 100 words or less, explain how many ways Harry Reid is a douche nozzle:

I need your assistance in finding me a replacement to do the emu masturbating,

so I can pursue my true dream to marry Rachal Madcow, convert her to islamojackedupism,

whereby I can legally jackslap her up one street and down another.  That beeyotch annoys me.

 

I'm Morgan Phillips and I approve this message.  At least I think I do.  Truth be telled,

I can't read what this is I writ, having writed it in Nigerian gobbletalk, and then gived it to

Gooble Translater conscribe it to a form of English that makes sound of speaking

homey 'hoodspeak, if I am understand the deadtroit languages.

 

Thanks for the time and attention to my fartsack, and hoping to hear from you any sooner.
Please get back to me for further information, processing and remittance
to you; and pleased if you not use the same translater that I am, for I thinked I just

say something about moochelle and stuffing cheeseburglars up her ass, which

suggest why it so largess.

 

Forward your response to this mail-box: morphills.com@gmail.com
and call me on the mobile number shown below:  +447035926018

Morgan Phillips, Esq.

A Nigerian Equal Opportunity Jackwagon Asshat 

 

 

I reckon that Phillips was looking for some kind of affirmative response to his drivel; when he got to read what I dun to his drivel, it apparently confused him.  Enough, apparently, to warrant this concise reply from him:

 

 

Huh? 

 

 

Have your handlers 'splain it to you, Morg.  That's a good mugu.

 

 

I guess his handlers did...or he didn't need the explanation.