A Pet Rock Gone Editing Wild

This is Seymour and 'Jane', watching soccer at the Moooo! Bar on Shiriashi Island, Japan, in '07.

Seymour doesn't really like soccer, but he lurves photo ops.

And now, he likes the idea that he might be able to wangle his way into a "Pet Rocks Gone Wild" edition of Geology Today.

Where he got the idea that there is such an edition, I'll never know.

Meantime, he's still wreaking havoc on scammers.  Like a recent one, Emma Whozeewhatzits, employing a long overused scam about her late husband and her being without kids, and she has cancer, and she has millions to give Seymour to invest for orphanages, etc.

Seymour's *TOING* was so loud, I thought he'd suffered a fault line.

"Did NOT!!!"

I guess that'd be the equivalent of a wrinkle for a pet rock.

"PHHFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT!"

At any rate, see what Seymour the "gone editing wild" pet rock did to Emma's email:


Dearest in Crisco,

Imma Sister Joy Emma.. from KUWAIT a minute!  Imma Chief of the tribal order of Kamson Emma Lollypop Guild, ensconced in the bucolic jungles of the Ivory Soap Coast, modeled after Detroit the past few years. As a Sister of the Hashish Odor Of The Perpetually High, I worked with KUWAIT embassy in Ivory Coast for nine years before my virginity died in the year 2012 during a "Camels Gone Wild" video filming for A&E.  The filming lasted for only four days, but my fermented 80 proof camel pee moonshine left me with no memory of those days. The one that disturbs me most is what I might have done on that video that will embarrass my herd of camels.

The goats might be affected, too.

Nobody will ever come or breathe hard in my direction because whatever happened at that time cause my genital to become ingrown.  

However, I hear of this spellcaster fellow of dubious antecedence and no particular genitals of his own, Dr. Shakes Spear, and I am of one think that he has what I needs to get right all over agains.  Thus it is herein that I write to you and antisyrupate you will be of a mind to help me yes?  I will like you send to me:

A bucket full of bat guano
An ounce of antimony
Throw in an ounce of unclemony if you find him
A piece of lamp broken by Hillary Clinton

A scraping of hair grease from Debbie Wasserpuss-Schultz
Spit of Toure (don't get any on you)A brain cell of Harry Reid (I am gived to understood that there are only two that work)
A picture of Nancy Pelosi laughing like a hyena
A copy of your obozodoesn'tcare insurance ID card

Having all these things in my possessed, I can make a spell that will cure me of sour cream.  

The yea good book of Phlanthropus Butt Polyp teaches us that in all things, ear wax doesn't manifest.

I'm sure it means something profound.  I just haven't met a pro who's found it as yet.

This -- and a free travel voucher plus cost-free accommodations -- is why I am taking this decision. I am not afraid of an ingrown genital because I know where I am going and it's no place of genitalities. I know that I am going to be in the bosom of hairy, repugnant devil guppy named Chris Matthews. Opus to Armpits 14.1.1.0 tells us of leftist inclination that we are all butt polyps of one big asshole, which explains our being upset with the world all the time.  

I dont need any telephone communication in this regard because I have ear mites Whoever that Wants to serve themselves must serve the soup first. Hoping to receive your reply.

Yours in Crisco,
Sister Imma Joy Emma. 

 

"Sister" Joy Emma hasn't responded to Seymour's editing.  She may not be in the habit of having a pet rock gone wild, editing her scam email.  And I'll leave it to you readers to see what Seymour just did there...