Tuesday, February 12, 2019

Memes of the Times

Who knew that an old, worn out template about a dying-inheritance scam could lead to making fun of AOC?

If you've visited here much, you would.

Meet Mrs. Sandra Bricks, dying to give my character the business:

Beloved in Christ.
Greetings my dear, I am writing this mail to you with heavy tears in my eyes and great sorrow in my heart. As I informed you earlier, I am (Mrs.)Sandra Sharon Bricks from American and a widow to late Mr.Bricks, I am 63 years old, suffering from long time Cancer of the breast. From all indications my condition is really deteriorating and it's quite obvious that I won't live more than 2 months according to my doctors.
I have some funds I inherited from my late loving husband Mr.Bricks a huge sum , deposited in a Finance Company . I need a very honest,reliable and God fearing person that can use these funds for Charity work, helping the Less Privileges, and 20% of this money will be for your time and expenses, while 80% goes to charities.
Please let me know if I can TRUST YOU ON THIS to carry out this favor for me. I look forward to your prompt reply for more details .
Yours sincerely
Mrs.Sandra Bricks  
Please note that when she writ this, she had "heavy" tears in her eyes.
The look on George's face works for that line, too.
Well...what with AOC on a path of ever-declining stupid of late, it seemed only right that a way be found to work her into the edit to follow.  My character did:
From: Ms Alexandra Ocasio-Vortex aka US House Reptile (NY) <mrsbrick@barid.com>
Sent: Saturday, February 30, 2019 2:28 AM
Subject: Greeetings and Harpy New Ears!  Two for One at Target While Supplies during Looting Last!
Beloved on stilts.
Greetings to all the deer, elk and beasts of the Master of Ceremonkeys, with whom all things are done sodomizily weird.  I am writing this mail to you with heavy doses of hallucinogens in my blood stream and great hallucinations in my YouTube viral upload. As I informed you or someone I mistook for a whole flock of you earlier, I am Ms Alexandra Ocasio-Vortex aka US House Reptile (NY) from somewhere between American and Zimbabwean alphabet soupically, as viewed through a window to the world of globular clam aid change.  Read that slowly enough and it might make some senses in Azerbaijani or Yoruba, I think.  As a bonafried widow to late Mr. Vortex -- I kilt and ate him after sex with a Salad Shooter -- I am 29 years old, suffering from long time cucumber of the genital. From all indications my condition is really not much different from the gender fluid non-binaries at Berkeley who have yet to find a pronoun that describes them or a bathroom designed to gives them true feeling of relief from parody, parsnippity or pissing a name legibly in snow.  All things are possible unless you're a democrap, then nothing is possumbull without intervention, hand outs, censorship and an overwhelming urge to sit in a forest and scream for all the tree stumps lost to the ages from termites and termightnots. 

I don't know about you but it's quite obvious that I won't maintain an off-prime-time show on cnn for more than 2 months if I don't get something that proves Russians colluded with Saints fans to cost the Rams their chance to refuse to go to the White House because of cow-farting globular warning.  That, according to my doctors, is what nine out of every five democraps experienced the night that Hellary lost and cnn tried to analyze it with Common Core meth.
I have some unicorns I inherited from my late loving wombat of a husband -- just before I ate him -- deposited in an appliance store in what's left of Detroit.  Before it gets looted and the unicorns are exposed to plus zero temperatures -- at which point their rainbow ice cream that they crap will all melt and get all runny -- I am told that I need a very honest psychological assessment to see what condition my condition is in. 

At this point I am directed by a Bela Pelosi baphomet oracle with Maxine Waters features to post a disclaimer about how Charity work, or she won't have to if she don't want to, with my new #GreenJeansHorkForTheFutureOfUranus that is, as I type, not helping the Less Privileges of Pluto, and 20% of this resolution will be for your watch and other valuables that you'll leave as reparations at the door, while 80% goes to Antifans who has been impacted by globular warning, THC brownies and LSD. 

Please to note that along with airplanes and farting cows, my plans will also ban Northern toilet paper, and you'll revert to using tree bark, just like the ones we used to know by how they howled in agony from behind the outhouse at 3am in a blizzard in Newark.

So shall it be again.

Please let me know if I can TRUST YOU ON THIS to not make fun of me, or I'll use my subpoena power to bring you before my crimeittee and make you sorry you ever meme'd me like you did, like you did yes you did...and I spank you.

I look forward to your prompt reaction to what someone done to my song, Ma.  Look what they done to my song, Ma...why for they do this to my song, Ma?
Ms Alexandra Ocasio-Vortex aka US House Reptile (NY)   
So far, only crickets from the scammer...no subpoena yet from Her Psycho-ness, which I'll give to the pet rock, Seymour, if it comes.

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Blogger Sandee said...

Bwahahahahahahaha. What an edit. I linked this post to Happy Tuesday. It made me laugh.

Have a fabulous day, Mike. My best to Seymour and Element. 😎

12 February, 2019 10:55  

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