Lookin' Fer Love In The Wrongest of Places

Meet Anna.  Anna Ivanova.  Russian.  Female.  Early 20s.  Looking for love outside of Mother Russia.

Uh huh.

Darlin' Anna found her way into my email box at the beginning of October.

Amusingly, she thought she was writing to the real me:  she used my actual first name.

That lasted one reply.

After that, she was driven to romance and con her new American man, Jack.

Jack N. Ewehoff.

There is absolutely NOTHING new here, folks.  It's the same template of scam that I have received probably over a hundred of from women (or those purporting to be women) from Mother Russia, who seek a better life in the West.

Not.

They only seek gullible Western men with money....and then, only the money.

Lots of otherwise smart, sophisticated Western men fall for this borscht (and I don't care if I didn't spell that right; I'm not Russian).  I've received emails from a few of them after having posted some of my scambaits of Russian scammers along with the pictures, and they've found the links AFTER they've been burned for hundreds to thousands of dollars by a somewhat lucrative scam run by criminals in the East.

Anna did nothing new here.  She sent me letters that were long, obviously translated, and full of alleged little snippets of her life and her dreams.  And of course, full of photos.  LOTS of photos.  As our "love" blossomed via email, the photos became more and more enticing and suggestive:

But Anna -- or whomever she/he really is -- does not have a good eye for detail.  If you look closely at the two pictures here, you'll see that this is NOT the same woman.  Anna has mixed photos of at least three different women into this scam.  Look closely at this photo, with attention to her left shoulder and belly button.  Now, compare this with the next photo she sent me in the same photo array:

Did you get the same *TOING* that I did? 

And she also sent me three videos.  All allegedly of her.  And the woman in the videos IS the same woman as in some of the photos...maybe.  While her letters are in passable English, her videos are all in Russian.  Not one word of English is spoken.  Never once is my character's name spoken.

As I said, scam.

Once again, examine closely this photo.  While male readers will probably miss the obvious, you female readers won't.

At any rate...after about two dozen email exchanges -- when we go from "will you be my pen pal" to "you are the love I have dreamed of" drivel -- Anna finally gets around to doing what Russian scammers are best knowd for:


My very darling, Jack,
I am most embarrass to now say to you that I am without the moneys to have able to travel to see you.  I am to ask can you help me to do this?  I have learn that I will need only $650 USD to be able come and be with you.  Between us now only 650 USD. If you sent me today on my bank account of $ 650, then two days later we would be together. When can you help me?
With love, Anna 


And it only took us about 25 emails to get here.  How I do love expedience. 

Now I figure that Anna -- or her/his handlers -- are somewhat literate.  She has responded to some of what I've replied with...like my character's name.  But not to much else (like Jack being a lowly widower who never thought he'd ever find love again...yada, yada, yada...).  So with this reply, I gave Jack some license to be more expansive...verbose...verbally flatulent.

Jack didn't fail to deliver:

My darling Anna,

 

$650 USD is a drop in the bucket to me.  But if $650 is all that you have need of to come to my waiting arms, I will make ready to send you that amount eagerly, my steppes blossom.   Tell me exactly how you need this money addressed to you so that I can be assured that you'll receive it.  I know that overland mail services are a bit tricky internationally.

 

Let me tell you of my life here, so that you'll know what to expect when you arrive.  You will fly into Denver International Airport (DIA).  After going through the customary groping at the gates by TSA agents who only have your best interests and parts in mind, you will meet me awaiting you.  Then we shall go to the lower level to determine if your luggage went to Iran, Cuba or Deadtroit, and wait to see how long it will take them to find it, if ever.

 

But this is no worry, because we have Walmart, Target, Kohls and Goodwill stores to provide you with everything Aeroflot (or United) manages to lose.  Members of various religious sects will be on hand to give you books and solicit donations, but we can choose the 'bypass line' to avoid them.  ACORN people will also be there to register you to vote 300 times for their approved list of leftist candidates that will have your parents thinking you never left home.  But I digress.

 

We will then take a cab ride that will impress you with the cultural diversity of the Denver Metro Area; our driver will likely be from Uranus, and only react to an address and "exact change only".  Never tell a cab driver in Denver "exact change only".  You'll wind up in Deadtroit.  Which is worse than Stalingrad was during the end of 1942.

 

Once we arrive in downtown Denver, you'll be impressed by the tall buildings, modern conveniences, heavy traffic, and of course by the very courteous and friendly people, who all love to signal their love of humanity and each other with car horns and hand gestures.  Some even use firearms.  That will explain why I gave you the ceremonial Kevlar dress and had you don it before we hailed the cab.

 

Once we get west of Denver and out into the 'burbs, you'll see the splendor of the Colorado Rockies.  The mountains, of course I mean; the baseball team is on hiatus and sucks anyway.

 

And then you will be whisked to my own personal automobile (I can afford the best, as my 1995 Yugo Ukiddinmeright will impress you).  Since it only starts one time in 10, we'll take a modern bus up to my town of residence.  Be sure not to sit in a seat that a drunk peed in on his/her way home from there.

 

And then you will reach my home town:  the City of Central, the richest square of miles on Earth.  And my home, a former mining site that is haunted after the 1901 Scarlet O'Hara Fever panningdemic.  But not to worry; they are like Casper (the ghost, not the town), and merely add hysteria to each evening when the sun goes down.

 

And I'll already have a job lined up for you, darling:  they have open positions as dirt sifters at the EPA Superfund site in nearby Nevadaville.  It's a job that will still be short-handed in 2113, so your economic worries will be over.

 

And of course, we'll immediately sign you up for the new hellthscare -- it's the only law the democrats actually insist be followed by anyone other than them -- and you'll immediately have the pleasure of knowing your hellth is as well looked after as it is for the citizens in North Korea.

 

Life will, you are sure to find Anna, be an adventure and surprise each and every day.  But don't worry; for I will hold your hand and whatever other parts I can grope (I used to work for TSA, and some grabits die hard).

 

So in your next letter, tell me how to immediately send you the money, and let's get this done.  My local friend is a judge who's wife is a divorce attorney, so we can cover all of our bases in a simple ceremony an hour after you are in your new home, my Babushka.

 

With love and anticipation,

Jack 

 

It became obvious that Anna -- or Boris, or his/her handlers, whomever is running the scam over there -- doesn't read English too good.  The only thing she apparently DID read was the money.  And I had to laugh at her invite to "Jack" to come to Kirov:


 For me, $ 650 is a lot of money. My mom invited you to our home. Welcome to my home in Russia . I'll tell you how to get to my house .
You have to fly to Moscow, to Moscow to find the Kazan station, then train 14 hours. Then a taxi eight hours. You should only know the Russian language ,
because in Russia very few people know the English language . Are you ready to go in my city of Kirov ? My mother is waiting for you .
When can you come to me ?
Or it would be better if I fly to you . What do you think about the meeting ? I really want to meet you . I am ready to meet with you.


And she punctuated her invite with a series of photos of 'her', naked as a jaybird:

My character decided that, alluring as the photo was, the plane/train/taxi travel wasn't worth the effort:


It would be much the better if you came here, Anna.  I cannot speak Russian other than to say "so long", and we're just getting started.  So....tell me what you need to come here and I'll see to it.


Of course, the money will be no issue.  Why?  Because when it comes to scammers, money never IS an issue here.  Nawp...Jack prints up all he needs.  In fact, since the US Government saw fit to re-design the $100 bill again, my pet rock Seymour insisted that we do a re-design of the $100 I use with scammers.  Asked and answered...first, the one I have used frequently that never ceases to make the scammers do as the bill does:

Now for the newly re-designed bill:

Seymour is insufferably pleased with hisself.

I don't expect 'Anna' and her crew to be as much so.

The day after I sent 'Anna' seven of the "Seymour Hundreds", she/he or his/her handlers were a touch nonplused:


What is meaning here?  Are you have humor with me?


My answer was in keeping with the same level of honesty that she/he/them has given me right along:


"Not at all. I'm as serious about this as you are". 

It hasn't quite sunk in yet as the next response suggests:


I am not to understand what this all mean.  You send me joke this is?  How can you say you be as honest with me as me to you?  What do you tell to me here?  Please Jack I must know.


Well, 'Anna' -- or whatever your name really is -- what I tell to you here is that if you go back and carefully examine all the photos you have sent me -- as I was doing when you sent them -- you will see what you did wrong.  You can deny that you did something wrong...but you did.  Several times over.  See if you can figure it out, 'Anna' -- or whatever your name really is.  When you think you have it figured out, let me know what you found.  I'll let you know if you're right or not.  


Of course I'm referring to using different women to represent her in photos.  But I won't get to know if 'Anna' figured out that one flaw of many in her/his scam; 'Anna' seeks to have speaks with me no more apparently.

But it's not a total loss:  what a gallery of photos she sent me....

Whomever they're of...

Ask Skunk -- Valentineski Datebot

I can tell it's Valentine's Day. My email runneth over.

With spam, sex and alleged cyberdating bots.

One account in particular is proving amusingly persistent, but never with the same name or pitch; just the same link that I won't click on, ending in edatingiseasy.ru. The spammer/scammer(s) didn't reply to my previous response (though it might have been on accounta cuz I suggested she lacked a vagina); instead, I've received several new responses from allegedly different persons of questionable gendercedence.

The sending email address is always charlandsanders@gmail.com, but it's never the same alleged chick.

I suppose that fingers could be included in the good lickin', but I digress.

So I have decided to adopt the role of sexual email advisor to this person(s), until they give up or can do a bookski on my responses.

Here's one of the longer ones that I received from this email, on the eve of Valentine's Day; you be the judge:

Title: A Big Girl Looking To Romance

I am Steffanie, im a 23 year old single mother who is in school full time and work part time. Im 5'9" a little thick with brown hair to the middle of my butt and dark brown eye. I move back to Northern Virgina last year so that I could get a little support with my daughter. I look for a guy between the 24-50. i dont really have a type of guy but i look for guys with genuine personalities *TOING*. I want someone that can crank joke and play video with me, but i want also the guy to want to wander around a mall and talk to kill time *TOING*. i want guy that stable on his feet, i dont care where you live but i appreciate you be all together emotional *TOING*.

Skunk asked, Skunk answered:

Dear Steffanie: okay, you answered one key question, in so far as can be proved via email: you have a vagina. It worked at least once. But you have wasted your time with this email. You want, it is obvious in reading your request, a schizophrenic. I'm not, and neither am I. Not to mention, I am past your requested expiration date. *BUZZZZZZZZZZZZER* But thanks for writing. At least YOU had a working vagina at one time.

Prior to her, I got this from 'Merideth':

i relly want a man that has a very creative side in the bedroom and a high sex drive for some kindy hot action of sex. i dont care where you live but i want you to be nice and well manner and know how to treat me the lady.

Heh:

Dear Merideth: I have four sides: front, back, left and right. Which one is kindy -- your words -- I am not sure. But in order for us to find out, you must have a working vagina. If you are an Ivan instead of a Merideth, we ain't gonna find this out. Get back to me on which you is or which you ain't.

She didn't, unless she responded as 'Steffanie'. But prior to Merideth, I got this from 'Clare':

i know what u want and i got what u need. u write me and i tell u how u get what i got.

Dear Clare: I don't need your silicon nose implant. You need to have original stock parts, no factory add-ons. I'm sorry, but your friend Steffanie said you also had lyposuction from your stomach, transferred to your thighs, so you could try out for a Taco Bell commercial. As the bell. Clare, the Superbowl is over, and there's no call for new and funny ads until next February. Get back to me then.

And previous to 'Clare', I got this tart email from 'Myrtis':

so you think u hot? well i am the one to judge how hot u is. can u impress me? write me more to say so and we see.

Dear Praying Myrtis, personally, I'm hot as an asteroid in deep space. I could get hotter if I enter your atmosphere. See what I just did there? I'll bet not. At any rate, why would I be interested in providing hotness to someone named after an insect? You'd fry and get all dried out and deformed at my approach. I think you need to go back to chasing walking sticks in the grass. Just sayin'.

Yeah, you're right: I got me no date for Valentine's Day. But and perhaps...edatingiseasy.ru will keep trying. They might actually get serious at some point.

*snerx*

Just A Russian Chick Magnet

No wonder my pet rock, Seymour, has more friends on Facebook than me. He's a regular chick magnet.

His wind chime spouse, Windy, is NOT amused.

While cavorting with Mayden and Pixie in North Carolina, Seymour was receiving the following email, with attached and displayed photos:

Hi! Have good day! The computer in service of acquaintances found to me some profiles of people which coincide with my inquiry. I preliminary studied them and has decided to send you, and only you, to the first the message because your structure seems to me more interesting and good rounding (I am NOT making this sh** up; she really wrote that). I hope, that you have time to send me some messages that we could it is better to find out each other. I shall tell a little about myself: my age of 25 years old, my name is Olga. I was not married and I live in an apartment of my parents. Some years, after the ending of training I work in the house with children, I am engaged in their education and training, I prepare them to the first campaign in school. To me to like productive leisure (that got a *TOING* out of Seymour, until he realized it wasn't reproductive leisure that she was referring to...we think) periodically go in for sports for maintenance of a body (and she looks pretty well maintained). I like to travel and be in different place, but my work does not allow me to do it frequently. I have many friends, we sometimes together spend time, play billard and tennis, we have other entertainment (maybe we were wrong, she DOES like reproductive leisure?). I send you picture that you knew my person.

Also I want to ask you to send me some picture of you (this may prove a problem early on). Please ask things interesting you about me and inform me some. The information on you: what you love an entertainment? What your character? What you love qualities in woman? Whether You had the wife (this one will cause some problems, too) ? I shall answer on your question and to inform you it is more about itself in following email (yeah, what she said..). I shall be wait for your massages (Seymour about blew rock boogers out what passes for his nose on that one). Mine address is (her email addy). Your friend Olga.

Windy is already pissed off at Seymour, but he still wants to correspond with this one. Despite the fact that the actual email was addressed, not to Seymour, but to "Jerome": Jerome "Curly" Howard, aka Curly of The Three Stooges, whom I had play a number of Russian email scammers from this very addy.

I also pointed out to Seymour that this is clearly a scam: I have photos of this very same young lady in my well-stocked Russian scamstress photo archive. As Niki Shastapova. Vena Mintcheva. And Poly Ilanova.

Seymour is not dissuaded; he's still hung up on that *massage* typo (and I know it was a typo).

Soooooooo, Seymour dictates me an eager but restrained reply, meant to further communication with Olga (while Windy hangs in the corner, seething). Meantime, I try to play a bit of a peacemaker between the squabbling newlyweds, and test Olga (or her handlers) grasp of English, with this loosely-interpreted adaptation of Seymour's intended reply:

My dearest, sweetest, most perfectedly sculpted Olga,

From the moment I laid eyes on your email and photos, I am hard. No, really. It's how I'm built. But you already knew that, referring to my profile as well-rounding. Not grammatically correct, but it's more geologically accurate than you know. And I digress. I take digression for granite, as you'll soon learn.

Hi and greetings, my lovely steppes flower! I am Seymour, and I am Absolut in my eagerness to get to know you and your bodily maintenance. It is obvious that your maintenance crew is first-rate, I must say. Yowza baby. And do I mean that in all syntax and dialects, including Cyrillic.

Your email simply rocked my world, Olga. I want to know simply ALL there is to know about you. And ask you if you have any bikini pictures? I adore forms like yours in bikinis. It's what I dream of, not having a speedo shape myself.

Write me back with some stunning bikini photos -- or of you wearing less, if you wish -- and I'll tell you simply all there is to know about me, my life, my loves, and my sincere wish to get to know you in the most horizontal hubba hubba ways imaginable, speaking from a productive leisure sense, of course. You simply look so procreative in your pose, y'know?

Awaiting your adoring reply,

Seymour

Seymour was initally oblivious as to what I wrote versus what he asked me to write, and remained so, until Olga replied, that is:

Seymore, what kind talk is this for me you say? Bikini photo? Please to explain to me all that what is writed by you to me. I am not understanded here.

Attached to her reply, was what I wrote her (and you read above), and not the hokum that Seymour dictated.

Seymour was furious; Windy was laughing her chimes off.

So Seymour insisted I draft a conciliatory reply, so he could further develop the relationship. After writing down his rather tepid, mushy apology, I took some creative liberties widdit:

Built-like-a-brick-Kremlin Olga,

I am terribly, sincerely sorry that you were not complimented by my previous prose. I meant no insultski, or to infer that you were anything less than a lady of the evening that goes for $25-50 bucks down on East Colfax. I just thought that if you had any bikini photos of you, I'd enjoy them. If you have any naked photos of you, I'd enjoy them more. Yes, I am a male geologic pig. But honesty is, after all, the best policy, is it not, my sweet little Slavic slut?

And to show you my obvious sincerity and integrity, I am enclosing my photo for your thorough and female arousal enjoyment. I know I'm buff; makes your mouth water and loins moist, I know.

Waiting your nudity for my pleasure,

Seymour who wants to see more ;-)

And yes, I included a photo of Seymour at the beach in NC (for purposes of security, I cropped Windy out of the version I forwarded to Olga).

It's been a few days now, and not another word from Olga. Seymour is not talking to me, though he's happy to be enroute to visit another good blogging friend in Virginia. But as I sealed him in the box before delivering him to the UPS Store, Seymour had one parting editorial comment for me:

"PHFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!".

I don't think it was gas from Thanksgiving dinner. I don't think....

From Russia...And Back

*A classic during the height of my dealings with Russian bride scamstresses in 2007, and a lesson in how to start and stop a relationship in one easy email*

Y'know...it ain't supposed ta woik dis way. But it dun went and did, anyhoot.

Somehow, I got me on one of them Russian bride online sites. Danged if I know how; the emails just started showing up. So when I firstI send one tongue-in-cheek reply to Ms Russian Bleenie Stuffer of 2007, I seem to have opened the bleenie-stuffing flood gates.

Oh well. As I seem to have opened the bleenie stuffing gates with one reply, I reckon I can close 'em, too. Here are three of the more recent 'applicants' to my profile (one I've never seen, or have a clue what it says).

Now, I didn't know what my original online screen name on the profile was; but when I replied to the first one as Le Skunk de Polecat, it apparently stuck. Thus, witness the following triad of responses to my latest three eager Russian brides-to-(not) be:

First, a short and sweet introductory letter from 'Sweet Lana':

Dear Le Skunk de Polecat,

I'm waiting for your call...

Uh, Sweet Lana -- brevity is her forte -- as she's pictured h'yar as the one in pink with strategic or unfortunate hand placement, depending on your outlook or whatever email program you run.

My opportunistic response:

Well, horsefeathers!

Here you are, all set and ready for my call, even ready for a cable hook-up. And here I am, all outta nickels!

Ain't that just the curd and way of it?

Le Skunk de Polecat

Next up -- and a touch more expansive -- was the flaming redhead, Elena:

Hello, dear Le Skunk de Polecat! How are you?

I hope very well!! I?m very sociable person and that?s why I have a lot of friends. The way I spend my free time depends on my mood. I like to travel and learn the world round me, make new friends. I?m full of energy I like to dance very much and much tine I spend practicing sport. I like to cook very much and I put a peace of my soul into every dish (*TOING*), that?s why the meals I cook are so tasty. I like theatres and museums, often go to different concerts and exhibitions. Do you like outdoors?

I hope you are tender, kind, careful and loving man. You, like me, love nature, good rest and always think about your family. I love children and I want you to be ready to start strong and friendly family, and what about you (dang..she's actually gonna ask me after that?). I?m hardwork and live good life. this is want I want also for my future family. You must be the best example for our children! Write me! Kiss to you!

I was once told about being blindsided when I least expected it, but being trampled and stampeded isn't the same thang. But I'll go ahaid and base my ree-sponse on one aspect of her resume:

Awwww...Elena, you blowd me a kiss. And spit all over me. Can I have a towel?

As for tender, they don't come any more tender than me; yep, at 5 feet tall and 400 lbs, I am as soft, tender and rolypoly as they come or breath hard. Bearing that in mind, it is good that you cook much good. I eat much gooder. I eat much bad. I just friggin' eat. I wish be biggest bleenie stuffer this side of Kursk. And yes, I do like the outdoors; one day, I hope to find a wheel barrel that will carry my bulk out there.

As for to set good example for "our kids", first we have to play some serious hide the bleenie, then maybe we have some kids for me to set good examples for. Of what, remains to be seen, along with parts of me I haven't seed since 300 pounds came and long since got overlapped by more.

I best say now you get the top when it comes to bleenie stuffing, 'cuz otherwise you'll look like a redheaded possum on a Mississippi highway in July. Which could be good widde right fixin's, but I digress.

BTW...dye your hair. I hate redheads.

Cain't wait for what you'll blow me next, hooba dooba.

Le Skunk de Polecat

I think I hear a few disgusted *oinks* out in the audience...

Don't worry; I don't improve a lick (pun intended) with Tatiana (the other one in pink with her hair up):

Dear Le Skunk de Polecat...

Requirements?! How can I know what are you look like?! I just know that you are here, so close and so far in geography, and I?m sure we will recognize each other. The main thing to be as we are, to be natural, to trust your heart and please do not forget that I?m waiting for you!!

Dunno where she got this requirements thing, but I'm betting she ain't waiting for me or my 'requirements' after this reply:

Tatiana,

You hotzi totzie, multi-syllable wench! Requirements, reschmirements! What are requirements, but verbiage that gets in the way of really hot pig sex? Of course, I understand you wish to know my looks. So I tell you, my little light at the end of Chernobyl: I am tall -- over 7 feet -- and weigh a robust 135 lbs. I'd break that into kilos and centimeters, but danged if I didn't complete my third grade cyphers, so it's hard for me to make metric. But that ain't the kind of hard I reckon you have in mind, my radioactive steppes blossom, hubba hubba!

In not-so-short, I look like a mix of Yao Ming, Johnny Depp, and Twiggy. Throw in Mr. Potato Head for slaps and giggles, and that's me all over, especially after I stepped on a land mine.

Now, geography...what IS geography? Two spots on a map of the world. It's inches, baby. Inches. Not like me, but I digress.

Tell me more about your form as if it's a map of the world, and I'll tell you how good global warming could be wid me, badda bing! We're raise more than temperatures doing the bleenie hokey pokey, Tatiana!

Write me more about how you wanna be my Mary Ann on Gilligan's Gulag! Won't be no Minnows in that lagoon! Hooha!

Le Skunk de Polecat

In the paraphrased and revamped words of a character from a 1960s John Wayne movie, "I'll say one thing for that long-winded jackanapes...he does know the short way to stop a relationship".

And the lack of response from all three of my Russian bleenie stuffettes proved that! Hooba dooba.

What...We've Got Hyar Is...Part II

In Part I, I introduced you to Balentina (from left to right, her sister and her, or so she says), who is coming to America for a new life.

With me. Or so she says/scams.

According to the stuff she conveyed to me, Ms. Balentina lived in some small little village in central Russia, about 900 miles E/SE of Moscow (or so she says). And that the one great hurdle in her coming to meet me here, was getting from that small village in central Russia, to Moscow (or so she says).

Well, after my last slightly snide reply -- again, with a total lack of comprehension of what I said therein -- it becomes evident that she has apparently cleared that hurdle with comparative ease, as she replies to me again. From Moscow (or so she says):

Hello my darling (awwww, shucks...now I'm darling....*eye roll*)!!!

It is me again. I cannot believe I am in Moscow already (neither do I, but I digress and she goes on). It was a wonderful flight for me and everything go well. You know even though Moscow is capital of our big country, it is just like some country (uh, what she said). Different people, like and the prices are very very high. People are very rude and angry (sounds more like Newark, NJ, to me). When I get off plane and was wait for baggage a policeman come up me and ask me to show passport. They are all crazy here because of terrorism. It humiliating to me. Then I take bus from airport for over 1 hour, but I see many good places in Moscow this way.

She rambles on about how big, expensive and crowded Moscow is, then gets to her accommodations: I found a place to stay. I rent a room from an old woman. She is about 70 years. She say her husband die 2 years ago and she has two grown up children but they already married and don't come to visit much so she is alone and she give me cheap rent to stay with her which make me happy. She is very nice woman!! She say I must be careful about travel and with you, but I say to her I know you are nice man, and my cellmate (I think she meant soulmate, or perhaps a Freudian slip thang, but eh...). She say I should still be careful when I meet you, but if you are what I am sure, she think it be okay for me (thanks, Granny...may a weasel pee in your borsch).

After a bit more of that hokum-ski, she gets down to the nitty-borschski: now, I need for you to tell me which airport I fly to meet you. I wish to come soon, because I am becoming to feel very love about about you (time for a panic *TOING*), and I must have to be with you to feel and make this love come true. I know you are my man that I have dream of (a few ex-girl friends are gagging just now, and she goes on) and I cannot wait to start with making you happy I am coming (I will resist a really tacky comment there).

Then comes that seminal moment, that point in these deals that John Wayne's character in True Grit described as "getting down to the rat killing", and the moment I've known was coming at some point in this bullshevik: I do need to ask for you some help. I am not with enough money to have all I need for ticket to USA. If I tell you where to send, would you make my love yours with money to complete my ticket? I need only $300 to make you mine (*TOING TOING TOING TOING*). I am so near to make you now, please don't disapoint me.

She goes on to tell me how to send it, using something I've never heard of -- e-gold -- and finishes with darling, don't let me down and tell me again your airport I fly to! With loves and kisses soon!!!

I said it afore, and I'll say it agin: bullshevik. Like another scamstress of Boris 'n Natashaville, it's the old "$300 ploy". At any rate, it's time to do some more English comprehension testing with MissDancy54:

Conditionally Dearest Balentina of dubious antecedence and geographical locality,

You know, that old woman you're renting from is probably rather smart about ways of the world, even if she screws small animals using implements and visual aids. You need to be cautious, a small town babe in a big, bad city, where sheep roundups aren't much different than cattle calls at the Chicken Ranch. I'm so glad you think I'm a good man; I rather think I play one on TV, even though I really don't, because I don't have an agent. As for you making me your dream, this I can do as well, long as your dream is being eaten by a T-rex in a cheap B movie. If I were you, I'd have to get smaller shoes and I'd kind of set the bar a bit higher. But that's only if I were you, and obviously I'm not, because I'm here responding to your effort to give me the business-ski, Moscow-style.

Granted, you really don't know if I'm just an ogre that flatulates, eats weed rats, and has the kind of breath that peels bark off of trees. But you don't care since you love me, and as we all know, love conquers all, especially when you have the baddest divorce attorney in town! Badda boom badda bing, fuggetabouit! Fact of the matter is, I am really nothing more than a rather horny leech, and you gonna be one fine notch on my bedpost upon arrival, babycakes. Yowza and hooha! Don't worry, I'll teach you the meaning of both of those, mama-babuska.

Now, as to the money...all I need to send you is a measly $300? Well shucks, Ma'am, if I'd knowd I could get had for such a paltry sum, I coulda quit wasting time and just go ahaid and got it done. I've gotten laid for much more, spent over a longer period of time! I have that much left over from my Monopoly game, I'm sure. I mean, I am your dream of dreams, right?

I never heard of this e-gold stuff, but what's a little unfamiliarity, what with all the unfamiliarity we're operating on already, my Steppes Muffin? So the sooner I git 'er done, the sooner you'll be in my body odor radius, and that's when we'll get down to the pokin' and the proddin', my little gulag blossom!

Lemme see what I can work up hyar, so's you can git to givin' me this hyar business of yours.

Of course, nuthin' got sent via e-gold or whatever it was. And perhaps it was that what got the scales to start falling from her eyes. OR, mayhaps I think I finally managed to say a thing or two that caused her to leave the script just a tad, and start to wonder about my sincerity:

I not understood your word. What is divorce you talk? Why you make fun of me and say gulag? My darling, I need from you money to make dream come. Do you still want me come? Please to don't make fun of me. My feelings are sensitive yes? These things you say make me concern. Please send money soon so we can continue to my meet you. This is must for me to have.

Okay, it appears I finally kind of got her attention, but didn't as yet dissuade her from her objective of $300. So now, I decide to REALLY get her attention with what is probably an international violation of..er...something or other. Then again, with all the international violations taking place from Nigeria and elsewhere, what's one more between a scammer and her baiter:

Comrade Balentina Manyiowa:

I am Colonel Ivanov Vishinsky Absolut, of the State Secret Police, Moscow District. I have been monitoring your ILLEGAL COMMUNICATIONS with a suspected agent of the Western intelligence organization, U.N.C.L.E. You will CEASE AT ONCE ALL FURTHER COMMUNICATION WITH THIS PERSON, or you will FACE ARREST BY THE STATE! This is NON-NEGOTIABLE!

Dasvadanya,

Colonel Ivanov Vishinsky Absolut,
Moscow District
State Secret Police
"Book Em, Danofski!"

Now, do I really think that she believed that last email? Nawp, shore don't. But what I do believe is, she -- or her 'handler' -- figured out she wasn't going to get her $300. And I reckon that based on her silence, which has lasted now nearly a month.

Too bad, too. I was looking forward to her coming. Really.

Well okay...I would have settled for her breathing hard. Really. At my age, you take what you can git.

What...We've Got Hyar Is...

*This is a scambait from 2007, that began with my playing around with a 'free' online dating site...I have since received other scambaits from various 'Russian bride wannabes' using the very same photos. But eh...familiarity breeds you-know-what*

...failure, to communicate".

So said Strother Martin's character in the movie Cool Hand Luke. I've used that line before in my dealings with online scammers.

It fits again.

Being a bachelor, I have some latitude far as online or any other kind of dating goes. Fortunately, most women who think they know me tend to regard me as the guy their mamas warned them about. When I was younger, I wished a few mamas hadn't been so dadgum right so dadgum quick; nowadays, I don't care as much but I digress.

Anyway, I throwd up another profile for fun and curiosity on one of those 'free' online dating sites; I haven't had any good laugh-at-myself routines for at least a week. At any rate, the site was 'free', until you want to reply to someone's expressed interest...then you have to pay for at least a month's access. Not a bad racket they got goin' there.

But the person contacting me in this case got around that -- and the site censors/moderators -- by posting her off-site email address in the body of her profile (which the site said was verboten, and in this case, the moderators/censors obviously missed).

She claimed to be in Wisconsin, 55, and a life-long resident of the cheesehead state. Her email address didn't sound any bit ominous, either: missdancy54@yahoo.com. One possible 'flag' to the profile was that at the bottom of it was written as an afterthought, "this is not really my account". Ooookay. Taking a "what the skunkfeathers" attitude, and feeling safety in distance, I stuck my toe in the cyber water:

Ma'am,

I got your email interest contact, and noted that it really isn't your account, but since you expressed interest in contacting me, I am responding. Are you actually in Wisconsin, or elsewhere? And what about my profile prompted your email?

I wasn't sure if that'd get a reply or not, but in my life, almost any reply draws...something:

Hello!!! Have good day. I hope you remember me because I have writ you recently (uh, no she ain't, but she goes on) and you answered me (uh, no I ain't, but she goes on). I sorry I not use right place, but I am from Russia (*TOING*) and I am busy organzie all my travels. This is first time I try communicate with man in virtual space and I am not good intenet user but I think I meet good man in here.

I stifle a *snort* while allowing an *Oy vay*, and she goes on some:

I travel to USA because in Russia here no opportunities for young woman like me to get head (I didn't misconstrue that...did I? And she goes on) it is hard possible to explain in a few words, but in USA I can get job babysitting or personal trainer, and I need a man to be with and be safe with, I think (NOW activists are going stark raving nuts over that 'un, and she goes on). You should also know that in Russia men drink too much and are violetn with women, and I wish not live like that. I read you and think you really nice (awwwww) and maybe you might like me if we meet, yes (follow the 'awwww' with a suitable expletive)? My name is Balentina, and I am 29, not 55. I sorry I say that, you know we must do things to get where we want, yes?

Bill Clinton would have loved to have had her for an intern.

After some other small drivel, she finishes with I do not want be lonely in evenings and I want to know for sure if somebody waits for someone me! It is just a woman's wish! I come to USA and maybe you meet and like me, yes? Who knows??!!! We can live together a few months, and maybe you keep my heart for you? I will write more soon!

I will say that the photo she sent -- allegedly of her and her sister -- was intriguing. IF it was of her and her sister (photo will be posted on the next, concluding installment).

But I no think so. Having dealt with a few of the Russian bride-wannabe scammers before (see some columns earlier this year), I suspected that this was one more of the same. Still, I decided I didn't want to string this one along, so my reply was in my mind, short and succinct:

Balentina,

Okay, so you're from Russia, and not Wisconsin. Same diff in the winter, but I digress. That's a very nice photo you sent me of two rather charming women. Do you know them? Beauty like that can carry one far over here, sure enough. But not with me, when it involves the distances you've cited here: I do not get involved in long distance relationships, Balentina, and since I am almost twice your professed age, I am not up to playing Whose Your Daddy Knows Best with you. I suggest you keep looking around the online dating site, and find someone closer to your age to try your hand with. Best wishes.

I thought my reply was pretty clear, didn't you? Apparently, Balentina missed at least part of it, like about all of it:

Hello!!! I hope soon I will be able to come to your area by my birthday and we will meet each other!!! I not sure why I pick you but I feel something special about you (I didn't tell her anything about my three concussions, so that ain't it, and she goes on)! I sorry my profile not accurate, the one I post as joke, I just want to try my English well enough to see if I good at it (you're better writing it than reading it, apparently, and she goes on) to be correspondent with you.

She went on to tell me her full name (Balentina Manyiowa), that she is 167 cm tall, 51 kg in weight (the photo suggests reasonable proportions), and she is so proportioned because I take care of my body I do aerobics three days a time as profession here. I hope you like my photos and they not tire you look at? And she talked about life in Russia it is very cruel life in this place I live, and finally that she is working on getting her travel papers from Russia to the USA as soon for me possible, I can't wait meet you and begin I hope my new life!!!

She finishes by asking me to send her "many photo of you" so that she'll know me at the airport (*TOING*), and if I am "lover of strong drink?".

Oooooooookay...y'wanna play, eh? Let's test her English comprehension, as well as what her end-game really is:

Balentina,

Your English is passable, and your aerobics status makes it clear you can certainly do well with head over here. Now, it seems that my second reply to you was lost in trans-Ukraine (see what I just did there?), so I think to allow this to go where you intend it for now.

As for those photos you're sending, why, I'm not tiring of them at all. That's one fine looking woman there. Personally, I lean toward lean over heavy, though the term 'fat' can be somewhat subjective: Twiggy would call you 'fat'. Fat Albert would call you a 'hey hey hey...wisp'. OSHA wouldn't be likely to put a back-up alarm on your backside, from what I'm seeing. But OSHA has some weird standards, sometimes. Freedom does that to some people.

You seem pretty determined to come to America and meet me. Well, Balentina, I suppose I should warn you that your eagerness to meet someone you've only communicated poorly with over three emails might be a bit premature, especially a guy who uses Vaseline and cattle prods to elicit an answer to that seminal sexual question, "who's your Comrade?".

But if coming is what you want, coming I guess ain't such a bad objective to have in the right venues. And speaking to your question of strong drink, I will say that this is definitely possible under such circumstances as barlighting and testosteronal desperation demands that sensory ugly detection be muted in order to score. More or less.

In Part II, I will learn that my last reply repelled her not, as her next response to me is from Moscow, in preparation for her trip to America...and me.

She thinks. But she don' know me vewy well. Or any of my online guises...