Monday, May 26, 2008

Dear Skunky -- XII

As Dear Skunky learns in this latest installment, turnabout is NOT fair play, at least as far as a scammer is concerned.
It's just not fair.
In this episode, Dear Skunky once again tries to help a poor, wayworded scammer by the name of Karbiru Ahmed (
with his presentation and diction, as you'll see the need for in the following excerpts from his rather pathetic effort to give me the business:
I am Mr. Karbiru Ahmed, the diretor in charge of auditing and account section of Bank of Africa ouaga-burkina faso in west Africa with due respec and regard, I have decide to contract you on a business transaction tht will be very benfical to both of us at th eend of thetransaction.
my department come across a very big sume of money belonging a deceased person, a foriegner who died on novebmer 1999 in a plain crash and the fund has be domant in his fund with the bank without any claim from his famly or realtion before we discovery this development.
As it intrest you to now, I got your impressive informaton through internationle business equiry on the intenet.i bleive you will be vitel and can campion a business with such magitude without any problem.
I will not fail to infarm you this tansaction is 100% risk flee. On smoth concusion you will be intitle to 30% of the totel sume as gratification, while 10% will be sit inside to care of expenses like telefone bills, and 60% is for my parters and mine. Please, you have been adviced to keep top secet as well still in cival service and intend to retire from service after we concude this deal on you.
Auditing and accounting, he might be able to do (I doubt it), but writing and spelling? Puhlease. So, Dear Skunky responds as only Dear Skunky does in these situations:
Dear Caribou Ahmed,
I was both intrigued and bemused by your effort to give me the business here. Intrigued by the plan, and bemused by the somewhat rough, unkempt lacking in professional appearance and presentation format.
But, I am going to help you. I am going to help you because it is my duty to help you. And it is my pleasure to help you. Of course, you offer me a fee, and I would be remiss not to expect something in return for my help. But more on that later.
Frankly, Caribou, your presentation needs much work to be effective, and have a professional appearance so as to allow you to more effectively convey the message of giving the business you wish to give. So, I have undertaken to tweak, correct and refine your appeal. Use this new template early and often, and you'll score like a bad-toothed gigolo in a karaoke bar on Sunday night:
My good friend (fill in with name if you have one):
I am Caribou Ahmed, a person of dubious antecedence who screws* monkeys when women reject me, as is often the case since I'm 5' tall and 450 lbs of pure, rancid blubber. But this is not about me, it is about you and what I can do with you.
In 1999, some real schlock of a foreigner deposited a tremendous sum of money in the bank I make like I work for. I think it was something like $50 MILLION US DOLLARS, or better with the current world economy, EUROS. Shortly thereafter, he was killed while learning that you can't herd lions with a cattle prod, mounted on a Vespa. It just didn't work out, even if the gas mileage was great, and the lions apparently appreciated an easy feast. Anyway, by random chance, I am in a position to access these funds, but because of my position in the bank -- I'm really a night shift janitor -- I am denied access, without a foreigner to help me. So I need you, a foreigner, to claim to be the next of kin to the inept dead lion herder. For your help, I will let you believe you're entitled to 40% of the total fund, while I get the other 60%, which of course is all crap, but you don't need to read that into this now.
What I need from you is complete trust, sincerity, ethics, and the biggest lack of common sense anyone's had since this yutz went after lions on a Vespa. You give me that, and I'll be more than happy to screw* you over financially, and make myself a hero among my friends and peers here in this fly-infested tent that serves as an ad hoc internet cafe, that smells of wildebeest feces.
Write to me now at, and let me begin the process of self-gratification* at your expense.
Caribou Ahmed, a camel gratifier* from somewhere Middle Eastern
* diluted from the more expressive metaphor used in the original response
(I then concluded at the end of the italicized text):
So you see, Caribou, that this new and improved revision for you took some time and effort on my part, and I am sure will generate for you no end of results of some kind, if not the kind originally intended. Therefore, seeing the potential gain you may derive from it, I expect to be generously compensated for my services. Send a certified cheque for $250 to me here:
J. C. Howard Linguistic Enterprises, Inc.
4334 Whittier Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90023
I accept certified cheques, Mastercard or Visa. I do not accept dinars, rubles, or merekat skins.
J. C. Howard
PS: postage just went up here in the US, so kindly use sufficient postage to cover shipping and costs. Thank you.
It only took a day for Caribou to over come the feelings of appreciation I'm sure he was overwhelmed with, when confronted with the unexpected largesse Dear Skunky had so generously -- and, if I may say so, cost-consciously -- ladled on him, and he responds with atypical scammer appreciation:
Howard ,
what is this is never joke and shold not be joke with if realy you are willing to work with me jest must drop and get serous time is not on our side. my name is Karbiru , stop insut me.
I probably should have left it at that. But Dear Skunky never lets an opportunity for a last word get by:
Caribou Achmed the dead terrorist,
Who, me kidding? I'm as serious as a porcupine enema. My time and effort to improve your scam letter was serious, and so is my bill. Send cash soonest. Time is on my side -- I have a pocket watch -- but how time works for you is your problem.
Oh, and I did send a copy of this letter to your bank; I thought it might help your position therein for a possible promotion, or at least some change in your status, when they see how you operate. No need to thank me, Caribou. It's simply my generous nature.
Don't use my letter until you pay me.
J. C. Howard
I am sorry to say that none of you will be receiving a copy of that letter from Caribou Ahmed, since he didn't pay for the exclusive rights to use it, and make himself a cut above his fellows.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

An Okinawa Remembrance

April 1, 1945. It would be the largest amphibious assault against any target in the Pacific War, and anticipated as a precursor to the dreaded, final apocalyptic battles that would be the invasion of the main islands of Japan, to end the savagery that was World War II. Off the shores of the island bastion of Okinawa, the Navy would go all out, providing 40 aircraft carriers, 18 battleships, and a host of cruisers, destroyers and auxiliaries, to support and sustain the landings and follow-up protection of the invasion forces, numbering 183,000 soldiers and Marines. Awaiting them on the island, only 300 miles south of Japan, were 110,000 Japanese soldiers and Okinawan conscripts, in some of the most formidable defensive positions ever prepared by Man. The Japanese plan was brutally simple: not contest the American landings on the beaches, but establish well dug-in positions inland, and bleed the Americans in costly battles of attrition, while at sea, the Japanese kamikaze corps would wreak havoc on the naval forces required to remain in support of the invasion forces. It was hoped the cost in blood would be too high for the Americans to pay, a cost the Japanese were more than willing to let, even as defeat seemed inevitable now.

After the experiences of Tarawa, Saipan, Peleliu and Iwo Jima, the Marines and Army were prepared for a savage beach greeting as they went ashore on April 1: the Navy gave it all they had to prepare the way, firing about 45,000 artillery rounds, 33,000 rockets, and over 22,000 mortar rounds, into the beachheads. But when the troops poured ashore...all they were met with was the devastation of the naval bombardment.

The Marines pushed north to secure that portion of the island, and later south to support the Army; the Army pushed south. And very soon, straight into the maelstrom of the triple line of defenses prepared by General Mitsuri Ushijima, where progress was measured in yards. Meantime, waves of kamikazes went after the Navy, wreaking havoc at sea. Between April 1 and June 21, when the island was declared secured by the US military, the damage to the American Navy, while not campaign-turning, was savage: 36 ships lost, and 368 more damaged. The Navy suffered over 9700 casualties (including 4900 dead) from kamikazes and conventional air attacks, supporting the troops. The Army and Marines lost over 7600 dead and over 31,000 wounded.

Japanese losses were put at over 107,000 dead, with thousands more unaccounted for, along with over 7800 combat aircraft lost, and the pride of the Japanese Navy -- the biggest battleship in the world, the 18 inch gunned Yamato -- was lost to air attack, while on a one-way suicide run to interdict the American invasion forces.

Okinawans -- conscripts and caught-in-between civilians -- sustained more than 100,000 casualties. Many -- believing Japanese propaganda about how brutally Americans treated captives -- committed suicide, rather than fall into American hands.

Okinawa had one other bloody distinction: the commanders of both armies engaged were killed during the battle. General Ushijima committed suicide, and American Lt. General Simon Bolivar Buckner Jr., commanding the US Tenth Army, was killed by Japanese artillery in the closing days of combat.

After the savagery of Okinawa, no one wanted to talk about the probable next assault target, the Japanese home islands. Targets projected to be like Okinawa, only more grotesquely magnified.

Then on August 6, 1945, and again on August 9, 1945, a new age of warfare was brought to the terrifying fore, each time by a single B-29 Superfortress. Shortly thereafter on August 15, 1945, the Japanese bowed to the inevitable, and surrendered.

We have plenty to remember this Memorial Day, to be sure: over 4,000 American military personnel, lost in the global war on terrorism. And remember them we must and should. But let us not forget those who paid such a stiff price, 63 years ago, on an island just south of Japan, in an 82 day brawl that was a harbinger of the unspeakable horrors projected to come, had the missions of the Enola Gay and Bock's Car not gone forth.

A Memorial Day remembrance to those who served; those who came home, and those, forever young, who didn't. God Bless and our collective thanks to the US Military: then, now, always.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Vocabulary Builder -- X

Yawp...before 'divine intervention' or the official storm chase season in Colorado could commence, I come up with VB 10.

Sorry 'bout that.

At the behest of a one of the few readers here, I am mixing into the maelstrom a few meteorological terms, that may become germaine for me in three or so weeks, as I'm in pursuit of my quarry. Or, running like a striped ass gazelle from one:
- the sound one makes when throwing up
- a diagram showing the relation between variables
- one of those long-necked, gangly-legged critters in zoos
- needs a higher octane
- a horse you didn't see at the Kentucky Derby
- time/date the Sun crosses the celestial Equator
- a drapery
- unpointed sword used as an emblem of mercy during a coronation
- just Ana, in her bitch mode
- a city in Russia
- cry of the aviary Red Butted Gork Warbler
- the 13th astrological sign, signified by two buzzards colliding in mid-air
- Redneck meaning "braw, nuts!"
- Redneck meaning "one a them female parts containin' thangs"
- fine or good
- explaining Ele
- component as part of a group
- a big mammal with floppy ears
- formation of storm clouds
- formation of storm clowns
- formation of storm clods
- an old...
- swearing with a lisp
- an apex or peak
- being a three-peckered goat in a ewe convent *ducking boos and throwd items*
- a regulated dollop of frust
- rust build-up on an underused tallywacker
- a profound butt
- manifestation of a god or demigod
- Smee always confused it with 'apostrophe'
- leads the choir at the Church of AlGore's Save The Earth Scam
- US state on the West Coast
- one of three snake-haired sisters who turn anyone who looks at them to stone, creating the first attempt at Viagra (with unforeseen sideaffects) in ancient Greece
- required
- crooked sperm
- what the IRS does to your annual income
- to color your vot
- a piece of turf
- a collection of divas
- a subprime loan nowadays
- what unsupervised kids make the house look like it was hit by
- vortex of air within a convective storm
- an amoeba fart
- localized column of sinking air producing damaging winds
- exploding specialty beer
- something a long ways away
- typical bad manners in a Monty Python romp
- the least possible amount
- a pre-Christmas sale at Walmart
- thunderstorm with a deep, rotating updraft
- an amoeba that wears a cape, mask, has super powers, and flies around rescuing damsel amoeba from dastardly free radicals
- used to make swirly buns at the bakery
- failed utterly to prevent Vocabulary Builder X...
- really sucks...really...honest...

- an artificial fabric used to make winter gear
- an adult beverage made at Texas bars that makes the room spin
- any whirling motion or mass

- an Indian maiden
- when a kid throws one, everyone in earshot knows it
- a sudden, violent gust of wind or storm

- see second definition above
- stories (real and mythical) told by adult squalls to their youthful pretenders
- a state of being filthy, run-down

- what Elmer Fudd mixes with wace and dwesses his widdle wady up in
- Redneck meaning "weather 'r not ah open a can o' whupass on ya is th' quesyun hyar.."
- state of the atmosphere at a place and time, as it regards heat, cloudiness, moisture, etc.

Perhaps June will save y'all from any more of these hyar...

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Energy Crisis My Ass

Gas at about $3.50/gallon; diesel at over $4/gallon. Per barrel oil prices now at over $120, and projected to go perhaps as high as $200 within a year or two. Folks are seeking answers.

Oil, coal, wind, water and sun. These are the primary sources of energy as used by much of the industrial and non-industrial world. I leave out nuclear power for some nations, since it's always debatable which part of nuclear power they seek to have and use, and for other nations -- including this one -- enviro freaks melt down faster than Three Mile Island, at the mere mention of nuclear power.
Whatever the source, energy is a fact of life. Energy is essential to industrial and modern societies. Without it, economies tend to suck. Hot climates don't have air conditioning. Cold climates don't have heat. There's no light at the end of the tunnel or a dark hallway. Ice cream melts in an icebox that ain't icing because it ain't got no power to make it ice and deplete the ozone layer.
Personally, if it's a choice between ozone and ice cream, I'll take chocolate, but I digress.
At any rate -- in the energy field, it's kilowatts -- oil and coal are in abundance, though of varied expenses to extract, and aren't necessarily environmentally-friendly. Wind power isn't bad, save for what it occasionally does to flocks of birds caught in a wind turbine. Solar power's okay. Nuclear power is an option, if you forget Three Mile Island, Chernobyl and the Earth First freaks. But overall, oil is the biggie. Where it's plentiful overseas -- like say, the Middle East -- it's also controlled by some rather dubious characters of marginal antecedence, who have peculiar notions about our infidelish western ways of life, satchel charge fashions and camels. Not particularly dependable folks to depend on energy supplies from. Same goes for the pudgy dwarf with a face that must of caught fire once, and been put out by a high school track team's cleated shoes, who currently runs Venezuela with rifle-tipped bayonets.
There are huge, largely untapped sources of oil on the North American continent: in Anwar, Alaska, for instance, or the Bakken field, that suddenly makes North Dakota worth something. But here again, enviros and other freaks that spent their youth eating their brains with drugs, rant and rave about "Mother Earth" and Rev. AlGore's massive "human-generated global warming" fraud, and do their damndest to prevent these readily-available and safe sources for cheaper oil, from being utilized. All the while, bitching about $123/barrel oil.
If only they and AlGore had left the LSD alone when they still had four working brain cells.
But folks, it doesn't have to be this way. Really.
My friends at Bonco, UnInc -- makes of such wonder products as The Abdomination-Izer and Phffft! Asure -- are currently at it again, designing and testing a revoluntary product that, once perfected, will forever after alter the energy-starved landscape of our precious terra firma, and put within reach, easily-generated and easily-harvested energy at anyone's finger tips*. Energy independence will be a fact of life, and a right to each and every person with a car to drive, a home to run, a business, a plane, a ship...from appliances to the z-thing that dresses ice between periods in hockey.
Strangely, like the fraud of the Gore-inspired food-for-fuel ethanol program -- enriching farmers at the expense of lovers of tortillas and grits -- this energy independence will be food-fuelled. But not by taking food from people, and turning it to fuel.
People will do the turning themselves.
Thus I introduce you to a product soon to be new by Bonco: The FART 'N START METHANE COLLECTOR AND SYNTHESIZER!
A technological masterpiece of engineering**, it combines collection, conversion and combustion, in a device that fits comfortably and unnoticed in the seat of any chair. If Man designs it, Bonco has the collector/converter to fit it! And with just a few minor adjustments*** to current technology now fuelled by petroleum, coal, wind, water or solar power, the Bonco FART 'N START can have you on your way to TOTAL ENERGY INDEPENDENCE in almost no time****.
In the sorta-words of John Lennon, imagine: instead of having to stop at a petroleum-based gasoline station, paying exorbitant prices for gas, just pull into a McDonald's drive-thru. Not only will you pay much less, you'll go twice and thrice the distance on the methane-based fuel that YOU PROVIDE through CONSUMPTION.
Imagine: instead of paying ever-increasing prices for air travel, you'll pay a third for a ticket on a FART 'N START equipped plane, and you'll get the added benefit of your in-flight meal now served in pre-flight. Then, with everyone seated, the captain will come over the PA and announce, "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your flight deck; thanks for flying (whatever) Airlines. Now, if you'll all cock a cheek, we can get underway..."
Imagine: ditto for train, ship*****, and even interstellar travel******, all fueled by what you eat, and YOU.
And it doesn't end******* with just travel:
Imagine: one management meeting in your corporate office will generate sufficient energy to run the full facility for a month; with adequate storage facilities, a weekly management meeting will run the place indefinitely.
Imagine: a state legislature -- pick a state, any state -- could spend 4/5th less time in session, yet provide sufficient energy to run the entire state's power needs for years at a time.
Imagine: the US Congress (as currently configured) could provide power to the US, Canada and Mexico for a century, with just one session. Especially with Democrats in the majority.
Imagine: and if we share the technology with France? All of Europe, from Portugal and Norway, east to Siberia, will be kept in full power for as far into the future as one can project********.
Finally, imagine it: No more using up valuable food stuffs for alternative/bio fuels, driving up the prices of everything from avocados to Zingers. No more beholden to a bunch of double-dealing camel doinkers and their oil; no more coal mining or the by-products therefrom; no more worries about nuclear reactors; no more complaints from the Audubon Society about pureed bird flocks; better use of water supplies; no more worries about cloudy days.
And best of all: NO MORE WARS OVER OIL.
Granted, there'll be occasional tiffs with the Missus over what you used to run the house appliances and such; but in such cases, there's Glade Plug-ins********* for that.
Yes folks, instead of having to listen to AlGore gas about fraudulent science and energy dependency, he can put his monumental supplies of gas to work for the greater good, thanks soon hereafter to the FART 'N START by BONCO!
The answer, my friends, will be blowing in the wind. And you'll have YOU to thank for it. You, and of course, Bonco, UnInc**********.

* well....actually, lower than the finger tips, and more an orifice than an appendage...

** the mathematical and chemical processes involved are too complex to describe, or so says Bonco's alcholic chemist, but he assures that if properly hooked up, tuned and fuelled, you'll get results; see Disclaimer

*** potentially a full overhaul, but eh...details, details

**** results may vary; see Disclaimer

***** with certain restrictions; see Disclaimer

****** unless you want to be as lost in space as the Robinson family, see Disclaimer

******* pun sort of intended; the Disclaimer won't help one way or another here
******** proof, if ever really needed, of just how full of it the French are

********* this is not a paid advertisement for Glade Plug-ins; it's just the stench masker that we thought of first

********** DISCLAIMER: Bonco, it's parent company Bonco, UnInc., and the International Crustacean Obedience Training Institute, are indemnified and held harmless in the event that the FART 'N START fails to reach the full potential advertised herein, as a result of improper following of obfuscated and obtuse technical directions on how to convert current technology to collect, convert and combust methane; as a result of improper dietary fuelling of the human methane source generator; as a result of overfuelling the human methane source generator with highly-combustible fuels like spicy enchiladas, and then having too many of you on one side of the ship at the wrong moment of expellance; ditto for space travel and achieving warp speed at an inopportune moment. Bonco and heretofore referenced subsidiaries suggest that military applications of the FART 'N START be delayed until the implications of audible flatulence are fined-tuned for stealth technology; one doesn't want to be given away in a war zone by sounding like the campfire scene in Blazing Saddles. Bonco and aforementioned subsidiaries will not return calls from Exxon-Mobile or other oil companies, unless the price for purchasing all rights to suppress the technology for the FART 'N START are sufficient to set us up for life in egregious luxury, allowing us a comparable carbon footprint to that of Al Gore's Tennessee mansion or Rosie O'Donnell's butt.

Monday, May 12, 2008

Dear Skunky -- XI

Yeah, I know: it's May. But I still have a couple 'April Stupids' left over from one of the absolutely dumbest collections of scammers I've had in a group.
This one is Kabo Uago ( and his bankers at (allegedly) Bank of Africa ( After the usual preliminaries, 'Kabowwow' (as I called him) sent me one of those 'applications' to fill out to the bank for to claim to be next of kin to some imagined dead guy with a fortune that doesn't really exist. Of course, the 'bank' is going to carefully examine my application request and information, and "get back to me".
Anyway, here's the key text of the application I was supposed to send to the BOA yahoos:

I_______________________ from _________________________ APPLY TO YOUR BANK AS NEXT OF KIN TO YOUR DECEASED CUSTOMER MR. ANDREAS SCHRANNER FROM GERMANY, HOLDER OF ACCOUNT (BOA4934109) PUTTING CLAIM OVER HIS BALANCE WITH YOUR BANK VALUED AT US$13.5 MILLION US DOLLARS ONLY. with your esteemed bank which belong to my business partner/associate MR ANDREAS SCHRANNER FROM GERMANY who was your customer. Late MR ANDREAS SCHRANNER FROM GERMANY died in a plane crash in 2002 with his entire family but resided in Ouagadougou Burkina-Faso and owned: STE SCHRANNER & BROTHERS SARL IMPORT AND EXPORT COMPANY, Ouagadougou Burkina-faso and I am his next of kin. Could you please transfer these funds directly into my nominated account receiving bank account number __________________ with BANK DETAILS:
(it goes on to ask for my name, age, occupation, account #, and name of my bank).
It then concludes with Please, acept this late application as it was due to logistic problems occasioned as a result of his death , I solemly promise to abide by all your transactional rules and regulations I shall appreciate your prompt attention to this request. Yours faithfully, yada yada yada...
I love these applications. Especially when dealing with particularly STUPID scammers, who are just going through motions that they think impress their intended victims, and really don't read what you send back to them. They only care that you respond at all, which they take as their baited hook is swallowed.
The failure to closely read what I sent back would catch up to them about a week later, but it sure had me laughing my butt off in the meantime:

I Mr. Jerome "Curly" Howard from the United States of America, being of warped mind and withering remainder, APPLY TO YOUR BANK AS NEXT OF DECEASED KIN TO YOUR DISINTEGRATED CUSTOMER MR ANDREAS SCHREDDED FROM GERMANY, FAUXHOLDER OF ACCOUNT (BOA4377RENO911) PUTTING CLAMS ALL OVER HIS BALANCE WITH YOUR BANK WHICH WILL START TO SMELL SOON IF IT ISN'T REFRIGERATED, AND WILL UP TO THEN BE VALUED AT $13.5 MILLION US OF AL GORE CARBON CREDIT OFFSETS, WORTH A USED ROLL OF TOILET PAPER FOR THOSE WHO ARE FAMILIAR WITH THE CONCEPT. Your esteemed bank of dubious antecedence doesn't really hold the accounts of my scattered-about-Burkina Fatso deceased partner, but it works for the purposes of this effort to give me the business. The late and getting later by the day MR ANDREAS SCHREDDED FROM LIECHTENSTEIN died in a merekat mosh pit along with the last virgin your country has seen since 1910, while residing in a totally unpronouncible town in Burkina-Fatso, and owned a faux business called STE SCHREDDED & ASSORTED BITS AND PIECES IMPORT AND EXPORT OF USED DILDOS Ltd, same unpronouncible town, and I am his deteriorating next of kin.
Could you please transfer these funds by folding them lengthwise and shoving them up your ass sideways, as an indirect route to my nominated account number (4321-0007007) with BANK DETAILS:
Please accept this late application, though being late fits into the general overall idiocy of this entire proceeding, and understand the logistical problems of carrying on business when deader than a junkyard commode.
I will appreciate your prompt attention and not-too-careful-perusal of this crapfest.

Yours faithfully,
One of these days, some of these nose-boners are going to actually READ what is sent back, and maybe even call me on it. But not good ol' Kabowwow, nor his bank:
Dear Brother, I have gone through the application and everything is ok (ROFLMAO).So go ahead and send it by fax or eamil to the bank (he really didn't read crap, 'cuz I sent it to the bank the same time I sent it to him for his "approval"). Plese remeber what we discuss at earlier stage of transaction that you will take care of the little expense that will be in volved which i think will not be up to .01 of the fund (actually, it exceeds the reality of the fund by 12,500 percent, but eh..). Keep me advice soonest of progress.
Two days later, the bank sent me a notice that "the bank approval directors have examined your application and approve your request in full as bona fide next of kind to deceased". That's when they got around to informing me that the fees needed to consummate their giving me the business would be $12,500.
And shortly after that, they received the deer butt door bell Euro as payment for fees. Which neither appreciated, apparently, as I heard nothing more from them. But had they actually read the application, me thinks they might have evolved a clue and spared themselves being mooned by a deer butt with a doorbell in the middle of it, posted on a bogus Euro.
Ya really gotta wonder about the folks that get taken by these critters.
At any rate, that's the Stupids of April Scammers. Ya gotta love 'em. Dear Skunky may really have to consider an end of year awards ceremony for this cadre.

Friday, May 9, 2008

Ready For....??

Denver's not just gone "Peoples' Repugnant of Boulder" in the 'beyond out there' department; they've exceeded the Boulder freakshow by leaps and bounds.
Preparations for Denver's hosting the Democratic National Convention in August -- and the end of the city as it's kinda now known -- are complicated enough, what with Rush Limbaugh dreaming of riots, and Roseanne Barr demanding them. Now, a Denver resident (perhaps a transient from the aforementioned Boulder) wants to make sure almost anyone is prepared to be amiably received and feted.
In a story from the AP, Jeff Peckman has approached the City Council with the idea that an 18 person commission should be formed for "dealing with issues related to the presence of extraterrestrial beings on Earth". One city official approached for comment merely quipped that "if he gets 4,000 valid signatures on his petition, it goes to a vote of the people". This anonymous commenter's subsequent *rolling of eyes* and fauxgagging was meant to be off the record, I guess.
It's too bad that Peckman's sense of timing is as bad as his sense of reality: the general election's in November. The convention's in August.
Oh whoops.
Granted, Peckman's task of finding 4,000 valid signatures won't be much of a problem in Democrat-controlled Denver: there, anyone can vote, thanks to the ACLU and ACORN. Even dead folks, transients, cartoon characters and illegal aliens.
Had Peckman been a bit more timely, he could have had this 18 person commission in place to deal with elements of what's coming to Denver in August. Like the totally alien, thoroughly out-there fringe freaks that make up "Recreate '68".
Oh well...I don't know about other "progressive" burgs like Berkeley, Boulder, and the state of Massachusetts, but as far as Denver is concerned, no other city in America will be as welcoming to extraterrestrials -- or their unwashed demon spawn that make up "Recreate '68" -- as Denver, if Peckman gets his way.
And with Denver's dumbed-down voter base, I can tell you that his proposal will probably carry by a two or three-to-one margin.
Yoda Spears, you have a home.
Of course, Peckman and his allies probably assume -- as so many like-minded progressives do -- that rolling out a red carpet, and releasing a bunch of "peace doves" to honor and fete what they consider to be VIPs, will be received and properly interpreted by the 'outworlders' as Peckman & Co. intend it.
Obviously, they haven't seen the movie Mars Attacks!

Saturday, May 3, 2008

Dear Skunky -- X

Being duped is ingrained somewhere in the human psyche. Take Islamofascists for example: they blow themselves up to gain their promised 72 virgins, only to find in the afterlife, their promised 72 virgins are in reality, as depicted at the right.

Lenin referred to such fools as "useful idiots".

But sometimes, the intending-to-dupe aren't as successful as intended. In April 2008, I was overrun with the dumbest of the dumb in Scamland. In keeping with my earlier referenced "April is Stupidest Scammers on the Web" Month, here's yet one more for your reading amusement.

This one -- Charles Jordan (, claiming to represent ARCON Iron & Steel Co., Ltd, located in China -- offered me a job. Yep, another one of those "send me counterfeit money orders and expect me to cash 'em and send on the money" kinda jobs. Nothing new there.

But Jordan's letter was pathetic: in spelling, everything. How can he possibly hope to dupe a hamster with a product like that?

So enter, stage left, Dear Skunky, who is dedicated to helping folks who try to hep themselves to our wallets. And hep him I did, by completely (sorta) reconstructing his letter for him. Here's what I sent back to Mr. Jordan:

Dear Sir of dubious antecedence and worse Engrish:

I really hate to see you make such a pathetic, pithy effort to give me the business, all because you can't write for sh**. So I'm going to help you. I am going to re-write your letter to make it more business professional in the manure you had in mind, and more factually accurate. Thence:

Dear Sir/Ma'am,

We have a job opening for the position of gullible person of dubious intellect, under the guise of Accounts receivable. Would you like to get fleeced in the comfort of your own home and get paid weakly (aka, not at all)? We are offering this position to all naive, easily-scammed applicants. Will you like to work from home and get taken?

We're ARGOF*KYRSELF Iron and Steal Co., Ltd, based in China (or somewhere). We specialize in screwing folks just like you! We are searching for representatives who can help us establish a medium of making money off of stupid, gullible people just like you! Under the guise, of course, of having you "facilitate" with our fictitious customers in the UK, US, Canada and Mexico, as well as faking payments through you as our fall dupe.

Note that details of your account are not needed in this transaction -- the less you know, the better for us -- also, as our representative, your faux renumeration (fauxbenefit) is on a faux percentage basis. Thus, any counterfeit money order you cash, you keep 10% and send on the rest...until your bank catches up to you, that is.

Please note that your area(s) of specialization or occupation are of no use here, since we only need you to be compliant and dumb as a wooden dildo until we get what we can from you, and then discard you like used toilet paper.

All we need from you is total honesty and even more, blind stupidity, since we're as honest as Hillary Clinton on the campaign trail.

There are no hassles until we've duped you; then the hassles are entirely yours. Should you have a present job, you can still be part of our business as your usefulness to us won't take long, and your other income can feed us as long as we can milk it from you.

If you are interested in our effort to give you the business, please forward to us the following information:

1) Your full name (unlike us, your real one, please)
2) Your full contact address (ditto)
3) Your home/office phone numbers (ditto)
4) Your Occupation (ditto)
5) Your Age (ditto)
6) Your Sex (a photo of your mate, too, so we can see who's stupid enough to have sex with you)
7) Your Postal Code (resume dittos)
8) Your photo (so we can post and laugh at it)

We look forward to hearing from you and knowing we've found another greedy, gullible Westerner to take to the creaners.

Yours most insincerery,
Mr. Charles Jordan (not really)
Recruiting Officer (not really)
ARGOF*KYRSELF Iron & Steal Co., Ltd (not really)

Yes, Charles, that will make a world of difference for you and your pack of goat-poking, egg-sucking f**kwads.

Most Sincerely,
Dear Skunky
Helping One Scammer At A Time...To Porcupine Enemas

Mr. Charles Jordan did not apparently appreciate my helpful suggestions and improvements to his letter. In fact, he didn't like them enough that he ended his correspondence with Dear Skunky thus:

f**k you i not scam f**c you.

Some people just don't appreciate sincere help anymore...