A couple-three months back, I played the scammer Dangote Alico, who actually believed that he was recruiting my character to help him pull off an online loan scam on some poor schlep in South America.
As that episode closed, I kept urging Dangote to learn from the 'zen master'...and Dangote never did.
So he contacted me again...this time as...well, I'll let you read his opening gambit:
Greetings My beloved friend, I am mindful of the fact that you do not know me, so I expect that
your first reaction to this mail will be total rejection, scare and may be unbelief, owing largely to the atrocities people commit these days. But this mail comes from a devastated, sorrowful and emotional heart that needs compassion from a kind and good spirited person to wipe away my tears, perhaps when I am gone beyond this sinful world. I sincerely apologize for any
inconvenient my email may cause, I know the internet is not safe anymore, people have abused it so much that it is difficult to trust anyone, lies, deceit, impersonation and theft to name
but few. so please, i am begging you to handle what i am about to say with pure heart and utmost secrecy. If after reading this email, you feel you cannot be of any help to me, please delete this message to avoid internet mongers pretending to me, tampering with my email, Please do not respond to any email from anyone that pretending to me i beg you.
My name is Mrs Imani Vaserman , I am a 63 years old widow of circumstance, married to an Israeli Zoologist/Researcher. We had a beautiful daughter (Hadassa) who died in 1998 after 7yrs battling with Quadriplegia paralysis, the kind that affect the spinal cord of a person, leaving such person completely unable to move. She became paralyzed after an accident during one of her skating practice. All this years, I have been trying to leave with the loss of my only child, until death in its uninvited manner came knocking again, this time, my beloved husband, my only source of happiness was taking away while on a research mission on November 12, 2001 on a plane crash with other passengers On American Airlines Flight 587...
You get the idea. Ol' Dangote still wants money for school...or for his mom...or for his transition to a transgender...or for his handler/lover Ogun...whatever.
Naturally, I wanted to help ol' Dangote out...so I edited the obvious faults I found in his email, and sent them out to him and 50 of his peers and colleagues:
Greetings My intended dupe, I am mindful of the fact that you do not know me, so I expect that
your first reaction to this mail will be painful rectal itch, since I had a witch doctor insert that to
take effect when you opened it. If it didn't work, pleased to advice me so I can fire that rat
bastard.
But this mail comes from a devastated, sorrowful and emotional asshole -- that would be me,
Dangote Alico -- because my previous online lending scam went phffffft. You see, I really
suck at this sh**.
Though I say I sincerely apologize for any inconvenient this email may cause, I am full of sh**.
I mean for this email to be as inconvenient as possible for you if you play along with me.
I know the internet is not safe anymore because of total mugu assholes like me, Dangote
Alico, who is full of lies, deceit, impersonation and horrible smells emanating from my
armpits and ass.
Still, I am begging you to pay no attention to the start of this email, and just go with what's
to follow. If you cannot be of help to me, may the gastrointestinal droppings of 10 billion
hummingbirds find their way to your home. I figured I'd better go with 10 billion, because
those damned hummingbirds ain't so big y'know. I didn't until I readed it in Wikipissonme,
that online source of dubious antecedent knowledge run by Robinson Buckler, a knowd
sodomizer of hamsters.
If after reading this you feel you cannot help but laugh at me, fuck you. I already have
peoples laughing at me thanks to the last person I thought I could dupe, and he duped
me instead.
Though I admitted here that I am Dangote Alico, a failed scammer from Nigeria, for the
porpoise of this email I am really Flipper...I'm sure Greenpeace will help me if they
believe that.
.
I was married to Mr. Limpet, who met a tragic end in the waters off Dearborn, Michigan,
when he realized what a limpet was when his timer ran out. The explosion sank
Michael Moore's badly strained rubber duck with Moore in it, causing a first ever tsunami to hit Waukegan, IL. You can read about it in the Weekly World News or perhaps the Onion.
All this years, I have been trying to live with painful vaginal itch, which is curious since
I am really a guy and not a wymen porpoise. I know this all sounds so confusing, so
I went to a shrink to talk about my problem, only to have my shrink, after one session,
dive out his one story window and fall to his death in an unclean catbox left there by
the shrink's wife who never like him anyway. After my husband death from an
expired timer, I am bed ridden in the annual Central City Madam Lou Bunch bed
races, where I came in 21st out of 20 entrants. See, I can't even do that right.
Anyway, to further add to my talking points angst, I lost my daughter to a skating accident when she accidentally wound up on the same rink with Tonya Harding. Don't you hate when that happens, particularly when there's a Gilooly character around.
To avoid further drivel that this email is becoming, I will want you to get back to me
to ask me what the f**k a porpoise can be writing you an email about. I was also
supposed to include here some schlock about the glory of Allah, but what glory
can there be in being a 6th Century bed wetter? Also you have to assure me you will
keep this transaction confidential because if you tell anyone that you're having
email speaks with a porpoise, you'll be committed on a 72 hour mental health hold,
and that will surely f**k up my plans here. Presently, my condition has become more complex to an extent that it has spread into my dorsal fins, consequently, due for another surgery that my
doctors told me it is not certain i will be able to live in a world full of wonder
under the sea after. Plus they find that my late spouse the not-so-incredible Mr.
Limpet apparently had a limpet surgically implanted in my porpoise vagina, meaning
I'm due for a helluva bang at some point near term.
A strange world I live in, eh? I'm going to stake that witch doctor rat bastard, Robinson
Buckler, to an army ant hill. Prick.
So do write back to me soonest so that I may be helped in a manure befitting of the story
I just telled you. I do this on porpoise...and if you see what I just do there, you see why I
not quit my day job as a goat anal inspector.
PS: see, I can't even fix my gawddamned email address for a new scam.
That drew this from good ol' Dangote:
are you not help me please?
I are help you with the edit. The zen master awaits your acceptance that you get it.
get what?
I guess that means the 'zen master' still waits...
God punish u
LMAO! God is laughing right along with me at you. So is anyone who accesses blogs on the world wide web. Did you know that for all the fun I've made of the Nigerian Illumininnies, there are hundreds of links to those posts? Oh yeah...and more links to the post where I handled you. God is laughing with me, at you. Count on it.
Poor ol' Dangote. What will he become next in Scamland...hrc begging for her chance to be inevitable? Don't be surprised, said the zen master....
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