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...

Valentine's Day and eHarmony.com

*A re-run from '08 and '09 for Valentine's Day: my pet rock, Seymour, after watching the movie You've Got Mail, suggested I borrow Tom Hank's looks and money, and THEN try the dating scene. After a brief discussion, I took away whatever Seymour'd been sniffing, and told him to sober up...LOL*

Either the young lady at the right is reacting to the billboard, or to the notion of hearing from me. Six one, half-dozen the other. In the case of the latter, I wouldn't blame her. Especially since I happen to agree with the billboard, which again highlights why I am, and will likely remain, single.

But there are some folks who don' know me vewy well, who just won't leave well-enough alone.

Amidst the avalanche of junk and scam mails I get, occasionally comes some seasonally-oriented ones seeking to fleece me legally and voluntarily. About this time last week, I got solicitations from something eFlowers.com; Fannie May.com; and a few others, reminding me what amorous holiday was coming up, and that I should remember so it as not to get the featured woman's reaction, by forgetting.

There was a time that I happily -- even with reckless abandonment -- indulged in the upcoming holiday with all sorts of gifts and tokens of esteem, love, and lust, with varied degrees of thanks and reward over the years. My ex-fiancee helped douse a lot of that fire, but I digress some.

And if the other reminders of what was coming weren't enough, I got one....no, make it two...no, make it three emails from one of the more well-known online dating services, eHarmony.com. Three solicitations within a week to join eHarmony.com, so I can recreate in person, the woman's reaction pictured above.

Granted, I know that they're (probably) just well-intentioned and unknowingly misguided, wishing to get me into a situation where I should have to worry about this holiday every year. And they were offering me a "free personality profile" -- normally a $40 value. And I could join eHarmony.com for free as well. Until, that is, I was notified of my personality matches; then, if I wanted to contact them to start something eHarmony up, I'd have to pay $$$ to be able to contact them.

Free, my ample backside.

Wahl...on the one hand, I should really thank them for their concern about my welfare, even if I'm not collecting any. Of course, a roll in the hay with the woman of my dreams ain't a bad thing to contemplate or do whatsoever (I heard that chorus of *oink oinks* out there). But with my limited (for now) assets, I can misspend quite well on my own, without having an online e company charge me for their notions of what I need (which may or may not come remotely close to what fires my own personal rockets).

On the other hand...simply hitting the *delete* button -- the wiser, reasoned, rational and more diplomatic of the options -- wouldn't do.

So I went from Dear Skunky, to a more in-character mode, "Valentine Scrooge Skunky", with the following reply to their corporate HQ (sent snail mail, since I couldn't find an email addy):

eHarmony.com, Inc.

PO Box 60157

Pasadena CA 91101

Dear eHarmonites,

I was raised to respect and appreciate certain things in life and society, among them not to pass gas in church and blame a dog for it. More sequitur to this letter, I was taught to send a thank you note to anyone who tried to do me a favor, however misguided and unsolicited that favor might be. Granted, you didn't consider the favor you tried to do me as misguided; you considered it a worthy, perhaps philanthropic, maybe even species-extending with an eye toward procreation favor, in the furtherance of our brand of being.

I know....you probably just read that and said, "WTF?". So would I in your place, but I digress.

I am moved by your thoughtfulness at this particular time of year; of course, I am also moved twice daily by diet, but that's another matter. At any rate, I must decline, with dubious thanks, your offer of a freebie that really ain't, and would result in -- even if it worked -- even less of a freebie, all things considered.

Granted, it's arguable that I need some help in the relationship realm. My own efforts have proven a flop, especially when "the one that got away", did so running and screaming, and I was too slow to be able to catch up. Efforts by friends and acquaintances to "set me up", have proven to be very effective in "setting me up", though not in the manner that I believe they intended, nor certainly that I was eager to achieve, and even exceeded my own self-inflicted worst flops. In our next incarnation, I do believe that we should create a language that doesn't have so many double meanings -- being "set up" should have but one meaning -- but I'm digressing again.

Even if I were willing to part with the funding necessary to let eHarmony's computers do their amorous harmonization so as to harmoniously find a soul with which I could harmonize, I suspect that your systems would, after a period of thorough analysis, melt down. Remember the android Norman from Star Trek (TOS), when Spock put to him the following problem: "Everything I say is a lie. I am a liar"? You don't want your high-tech computer matching system to fry like Norman did, trying to sort through that algorithm now, do you?

Putting it another way, here's some stats for you to ponder about this hyar feller: I am 52, past warranty coverage. I'm proportional or overweight, depending on whether I'm being graded by an 80 year dirty little old lady from Pasadena, or an insurance industry health chart. I still have my own hair and teeth, though I'm not sure for how long. I am a working stiff who lives from check to check, has debt, and can afford chinese delivery once a week. My car is paid for, and is about to be discontinued by a failing auto industry. I am thoroughly heterosexual and very dedicated as a one-woman man, since having more than one would be beyond me, especially since I don't have one now, let alone couldn't likely afford more than one if I found one.

But...I will reconsider all of this, if you have a babe of a widow who's wealthy and will support me in a manner to which I am totally unused to, undeserving of, but am willing to adapt to. I'll even learn to take out the trash and empty the cat box. Of course, it'd help if she has the looks of Heather Locklear or Michelle Pfeiffer (let's remember the age I quoted at the outset). But I can adapt to somewhat less, since I was last compared in looks to Dennis Weaver, and I'm not sure if that was meant when he was alive or not. The comparison-maker was smirking at the time, so draw your own conclusions.

So that's your challenge. If eHarmony can salvage a love-flop like me, with all my admitted faults and drawbacks, then I will, in fact, believe that pigs can fly, and I am mate-able. Otherwise, I expect this will wind up on your "LMAO" bulletin board in the eHarmony.com break room, and that'll be that.

Sincerely,

Moi (I actually used my real name and address on this; just in case I actually get a real reply).

If I do get a reply -- and not one of those canned, form-letter ones -- I'll post it here. Assuming that the language is printable, and not one of the other definitions of "set up".

*2009 note: I didn't get a reply to this letter in '08. I reckon not to get one in '09, either; Neil Clark Warren & Co. don't seem to have much of a sense of humor 'bout this kinda stuff*

*2010 note: I didn't get a reply to either letter, but I DID get another offer from eHarmony.com. And Zoosk. And some unnamed singles site offered by Facebook. And Match.com. And a Russian mail-order bride site. And from one that was pretty straight forward ("want to get LAID? Click HERE"); after watching the Super Bowl commercials, I suspect it was from a prankster at Denny's; they really DO need all the eggs they can get, but it ain't gonna work h'yar*