Saturday, March 30, 2013

A Scammer Learns 'Bout March Madness

In my last installment, I spoke of my total ill-preparedness to address the issue of March Madness, brackets-wise.

I might as well place a bet in 'Vegas on whether the Chinese put a man on the Moon before our current potus tells the truth for once.

Eh.  Low information voters are convinced that Sequester is the cat that tries unsuccessfully to eat Tweety.

At any rate, my scammer this week is identified as Aaron Smith, a pay agent representing a unit within the United Nations...or so he says.  And his mission:  to get anyone he emails to believe that (a) they have been the victim of an online scam and (b) that he has $400,000 in compensation for them.  After, of course, the 'recipient' pays the normal fees for such a transaction.

Aka, a scam.

But ol' Aaron, he hadn't apparently counted on me being one of his email recipients.  Nor, I imagine, did Aaron reckon on something of a lesson in 'March Madness' being inserted into his email.  In fact, replacing its whole content.

No need to thank me, Aaron.

Here's what his lesson in March Madness looks like now:

From: UNCC <
Sent: Sunday, March 24, 2013 9:30 AM
Congratulations Beneficiary,

How are you today? Hope all is well with you and family, not that we really care, we're just required to say that as opening rubbish to what follows.

You may not understand why this mail came to you. We don't either, but your email address was submitted to us, so here we are.

The UNITED NATIONS have been having a meeting for the past 7 months which just ended few days ago with the secretary to the UNITED NATIONS. Yes, we realize that we are most inefficient. But since it isn't our money we're spending, we don't care.

This includes every American taxpayer. We don't care. Get over it. Now quit sulking and return now to the purpose of our email.

After our 7 month meeting, it was decided that we are going to lend assistance to all those peoples in the world who are ESPN impoverished, and provide them with assistance in filling out their March Madness brackets. Yes, from the artificial goat inseminators in Angola, to the idiot mugu Andrew Green ( to the last yak fornicator in Zaire (recently transferred there from Siberia, which had to have been a bit of a culture shock), we are now offer free advice to help you win your office pool March Madness bracket.
As Idi Amin frequently said, "this is very important". Then again, the dumb ass mugu is dead.

Basketball is big sport in US, along with baseball, football, hockey, and fat people taking their tops off and running around on a couple of tabloid TV shows, along with collecting free phones and welfare while Detroit collapses on itself. This too is a sport, but I digress.

So, to fill out your brackets NOW, you are advised to contact Aaron Smith of our UNITED NATION MARCH MADNESS PICKING BRACKETS ASSISTANCE CENTER. It's actually in Nigeria, but for purposes of clarity we say that we are in the United Kingdumb. See what we just did there?

Giving you the business is what we do, and our business is helping those who can't hep themselves to someone elses' money. Granted, if you're in West Africa, the West African franc is so patently worthless, a suitcase full of them can't buy a "Hugo Chavez Is Dead...HaHa" t-shirt. But that's okay, because Aaron Smith has a bunch of those to give away, too.

So write now -- TODAY FOLKS, TODAY -- at the given address below:
I apologize on behalf of my organization for any delay you might have encountered in receiving this vital informations on your March Madness bracket picks, but we had to be sure that William & Mary were IN the tournament first, BEFORE we could advice you to pick them to win it all.

Harvard? Florida whatever-they're-called? Phhhfffffffft. It's William & Mary, all the way.

Thanks and our gawd here -- who looks like Christ John's mama's oracled butt hole (tell him about it at -- couldn't care less about your family, unless you fill out a bracket TODAY. Hoping to hear from you as soon as you fill out your bracket.
Yes, that's us: Making the world a more miserable place. It's what we do. It's ALL we do.

You are required to contact the above person and furnish him with the following of your information that will be required to avoid any mistakes:-

1. Your Full name:
2. Your Country:
3. Contact Address:
4. Telephone Number:
5. Fax Number:
6. Marital Status:
7. Occupation:
8. Last Time You Tried Sex With A Basketball Or PMSing Badger:
9. Age:

Congratulations, and I look forward to hear from you as soon as you confirm your March Madness brackets to making the world a more miserable place, like in North Korea. That country is full of asshats!  We learned that from Team America:  World Police!

Secretary-General Ban Mai-Moon

I don't expect to hear much in the way of thanks or feedback from Aaron Smith.  I might have pissed off North Korea's Kim Dung Soon, or whatever his name is...

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Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Bettin' On The Moon Tonight

There's a rumor afoot that 'Vegas is looking to start allowing betting on political elections.

We've already gambled and lost enough there, I reckon.

But that's a nice lead-in to my subject of the week:  basketball.  Especially March Madness basketball.

As I noted in a post a few years back -- hOOPs -- I am not a fan of the sport.  I don't follow it.  I barely understand how to play it.  And in high school gym class, or on one scar-studded college intramural team, I proved that beyond all doubt.  For every point I scored, I committed 1.somethin' er other fouls.

If there was a Basketball Hall of Shame, I'd be there.  My bust, that is...'cuz my game was, too. so many of us human-type-thangs, I occasionally like to dabble in things beyond my ability to grasp.  I've done that repeatedly under the heading of "understanding women", and ever since my testosterone started to carbonate.  And even though my 'fizz' has begun to fade, I can tell you that after years of practical application and practice, I still can't understand women.

But I'll keep trying.  Stubbornness in the face of impossibility  ;-)

So might you view my having tried filling out a bracket for March Madness the past two years.  Last year -- the first time I dun it -- my picks were uninspired nonsense.  I had no idea who to pick or why, so I used an old fashioned method:  I asked my pet rock, Seymour.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh no you don't!  PHHHHFFFFFFTTTTT!"

Well, I did ask him.  He just wouldn't answer, so I made my picks based solely on their respective win-loss records.

And by the end of the first round, my bracket had imploded.  It didn't matter that somehow, two of my Final Four picks made it to the Final Four, even if neither made the Final Two.

So I resolved not to ask Seymour this year.


How did I pick, you ask?  How did a person as low information basketballally as me make reasonable, rational, clearly mathematically-probable bracket selections, with the idea of having a credible shot at picking the ultimate March Madness winner?

PUH-lease.  It's me we're talking about.

I started out with 68 choices.  I wound up with 1. 

And after the first round -- to cut the field in half -- my bracket is again resembling a balsa wood house that was hit by an EF-500 tornado.

Yet, my Final Four are almost still in.  Even if two of them barely made it, and one of them isn't in anyone elses' bracket.

Yes, with all my learned inexpertise, I am probably the only one in the country who predicts that William & Mary will win the NCAA College Basketball Tournament for 2013.

I am sure that Seymour would agree.


Told ya.

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Sunday, March 24, 2013

Soda Strange

Perhaps it is written somewhere that, how you are perceived by others, is a measure of when they think of you and what they do about it.

In my case, I'm screwed.

A former colleague of mine got herself an authentic, genuine email scam.  Yes, she did.  And soon as she read it, she thought of me.

Thankfully, not as the writer of it; April Fools ain't here yet.

At any rate, here's what she got:

> Dear,
> I am Kola Dare, an Attorney by profession from Republic of Togo, Senior Advocate of Togo, (S.A.T). It might interest you to know that I have a deceased client that bears the same surname with you, came to Togo in 1988 and was working with Shell Development company, Lome Togo.
> In 1996 Before his death, I assisted him in making a 15years fixed deposit worth $9.5M which has now Matured to USD$21M payment by the financial institution.Kindly get back to me with your required information below, if you are ready to proceed, and make sure this transaction is secret and confidential;
> Full name.....................
> Age.................
> Country........................
> Telephone number...................
> Profession........................
> I look forward to hearing from you if you are ready to proceed on this transaction.
> Please reply back to me on my private email id if you are interested
> Best regards,
> Barrister. Kola Dare.
> Senior Advocate of Togo, (S.A.T).


So that is how a colleague received the initial effort to give her the business. Except that she wasn’t interested in getting the business; particularly not this business.

So immediately she thought of me.

It says so much about me that when someone thinks of me....they forward me their scam emails. And that might be the nicest thing they forward me.

Yeah, I probably do know where I went wrong, and repeatedly so, but I digress...

So, what to do with an email scam the likes of this one? Wahl, lessee what I dun widdit:

> On Mar 17, 2013, at 1:28 PM, "Kola Dare"<>> wrote:
> > Dear,
> >
> > I am Kola Dare, a soft drink taste tester by profession from Republic of
> Togo, Senior Soft Drink Taste Testers of Togo, (S.S.D.T.T.oT.). It might
> interest you to know that I have once downed an entire 24 oz mug of frosty
> carbonated Camel Piss Delight in 10 seconds. I hold the record in Togo
for having done that. Yes, I do.


> > Do you know how hard it is to down a 24 oz frosty mug of carbonated
> Camel Piss Delight? No, of course you don't; that's why I am the official taste
> tester of Togo for crap like this.

But that is not why I am written to you today. It should be, because it's
fucking awesome, but it isn't, dammit.

> A diseased client that bears the same genital warts as my pet Peruvian
> sloth Jeremy (he'll never see what I just did there, Jules) came to Togo
> in 1988 and was working with Sand Dollar Flatulence Development
> Company, Lome Togo. After a year and a half, they went bankrupt,
> because there are no sand dollars here, and it took the dumb asshats
> that long to figure it out. Jackwagoned douche nozzles.

> >
> Anyway, before his death in 1996, my pet Peruvian sloth Jeremy (see, I did
> it again, Jules) left me a mondo mutha of a hairball that is now estimated
> to weigh 98 pounds, and be worth....uh, probably nothing, especially when
> our national currency exchange rate sucks like it do.

In fact, this whole email has been a colossal waste of my time and in-grown
nose hairs. That's kinda yukky to think about.

> Still, I'd appreciate you write back to me and give me the information
> below, because I'm lonely, bored, fat, fugly, and I have a chronic case of
> marsupial genital envy.

> Full name.....................
> > Age.................
> > Age when you first realized what a nose hair was.................
> > Age when you first tried to nosh a hairball..................
> > Age when you stopped digressing like I am....................
> > Where you live...................
> > Phone number and other sh*t like that.......................

> I look forward to hearing from you if you are ready to try me in a chugging contest with 24 oz frosty mugs of Camel Piss Delight.

> Please reply back to me on my private email id if you are interested OR
> Best regards,
> Bannister. Kola Dare.
> Senior Soft Drink Taste Tester of Togo

So far, nothing from the land of email scams or righteous indignation from soft drink makers.  But the week is young....

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Thursday, March 21, 2013

Pharmacy Hell

Yeah, I know:  it's skirting the very fine line of the language I generally eschew here...*gesundheit*...but it fits the subject material perfectly.

Of late, I have been making email life a bit sucky for email scammer Andrew Green.  He was fool enough to respond to me, and to go one further, to try to silence me with insults.

*Game on*

So of late, every email edit I've done has had a recurring theme of using and abusing scammer Andrew Green for purposes of....annoying him.

It's working.

Here's the latest annoyance from the scam email editing department; an online pharmacy spam, rewritten with "Dr. Andrew Green" in mind:

Subject: Valentines Special Save
 So f**king WHAT if it's almost St. Patrick's Day? We're running a Valentine's Day special, and by f**king lizard lips, if we have to wait for the NEXT f**king Valentine's Day, get the f**k over it!

But I'm sure we have sh*t for horny leprechauns, too. Or horny pranksters on April 1. Just as we'll have sh*t for horny rabbits on Easter, and horny picnic baskets for the beginning of summer, horny fireworks on the 4th, horny low information voters on Labor Day, horny witches and goblins on Halloween, horny giblets at Thanksgiving, and horny elves and reindeer on Christmas! Brother, we gotz sh*t for EVERY OCCASION!



Dr. Andrew Green, pHd, md, dds, wtf et al, guarantees you'll get results**** no matter what!

* Or med substitutes..we have two chimpanzees we turned loose in a chemist lab, and we have no idea what kind of shit they've made up...but we're packaging and selling it!
** It works in reverse of Viagra...see what we just did there?
*** if we ain't gotz it, we'll get our 'roid raging chimps to mix it up, or something probably not remotely akin...
**** Andrew Green is a dickless dumbass, but he is sure you'll notice something when you take the sh*t his chimps have whipped up...
DISCLAIMER: we're required to have one, but we ain't sayin' what our alcoholic attorney wrote for us to say, because he was drunk and we can't read Latin written in Azerbijani calligraphy script. It sure is weird looking sh*t...I think it might say that I wuz elected Pope, but I is pretty sure it doesn’t say that, I think.

Up until that email, ol' Andrew had remained true to his claim that he'd never reply to me again.  Up until that one, anyway:

would u stop!!!!!!!!!!

I had a ready answer for that:


Do you think Andrew Green believes me?

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Monday, March 18, 2013

From Scam Wars To Just Pissed

Now I've gone and done it.

Andrew Green is REALLY not gonna talk to me no mores.

REALLY.  This time he REALLY means it.

Really really he does.


So after he wasn't talking to me any more, I continued to rain edited scam emails into his box.  And finally he fired back:

you must be psyco.  get help and leave me alone!

I didn't; I kept it up.  From both the email address he'd originally tried to scam me at, and one I have dedicated to my scambaiting character, Ben Dover.

Ben, he seems to want no truck with; but the other one seems to get under his skin.

After another series of edits -- edits that featured Andrew Green's problems with penile psoriasis, among other things -- Andrew struck back again:

u are a littel boy newly to internet.  u r play in mans world.  get out you littel boy and stop all your rubish now.  i am made man and you are sily boy.  stop now.

That "made" for more email edits, all dedicated to one suffering soul:  Andrew Green.

A week later, Andrew Green decides to let me know how 'littel' I am, against his accomplished self:

Good new, i  just paid form one clent this morning from turkey, Istanbul, Am off to clear my $4600,through western Union . listen you mad man. work , yur mate r hustle collecting money online. u r just  playing internet games. u bettr work hard and stop all the u stupid writ up. The fact is i don't read them cos they r to long. i dont waste my time on yur meanless scriptures.  please stop sending all this to my box again. am tired of seeing yur rubish.. You need a Re-phenol Tablet and a codeine syrup so that yur head will be calm down because u are a MAD BOY, not even a man, u r small boy.

Mark my word, i promise never to reply u again

Guess he told me, huh?

And he's right:  I give my inner boy a lot of latitude when it comes to editing email scams.  My inner boy sometimes makes me blush.

Well, maybe a little.

So, I turned my small boy loose, and resumed peppering Andrew Green's box, starting with an edit of his email above; I thought my inner boy dun rather good with this one:

Subject: I need a Head...

Bad news!!  My doctor gave me a proctology exam and said that my head is up my ass!  But -- see what he just did there? -- Good news!  He says I can get a new head to put on my shoulders!  He says that there is a donor in Turkey who has a spare head he isn't using -- he might have obtained it in Bali -- and for only $4600, I can have it!!! 
I am so happy.  Here I thought to myself, "Andrew Green, you put your only working head up your ass, since army ants ate your dick what do I do?", and my proctologist has the answer to my problems!!!
I hope you all have good proctologists, but that's not why I'm writing.
I am writing to you because I need $4600.  I only have $10 in West African francs, and someone used them as toilet paper.  Damned West Africans!   Anyway....can you help me?  If I collect $4600, I can get that new head the dude in Istanbul has for me.  He promises that it's a one-owner, well-maintained head.  It even has working parts, whatever that means.
Please if you can help me get a working head for my shoulders -- because the one of my ass is stuck on accounta my ears -- please contact me at for information on how you can send me money to help me raise the $4600 necessary to buy me that one-owner head from someone in Bali.
Mark my word, i promise never to reply u again if you help me now.
Sincere about my head up my ass,
Andrew Green
trying hard to be a made man, one body part at a time

And if that wasn't enough...and it wasn't, I assure you...I then edited the next email -- allegedly from another Andrew, this one Andrew Mycroft, running a typical business scam -- to stick with both Andrew Green, and the theme of the edit above:

I am doubting that this letter will come as any surprise to you, but I find that I must

write to you on behalf of my client, Andrew Green.  I am Dr. Andrew Mycroft, MD, and I

have been, for a number of years -- too many, in fact -- Andrew Green's proctologist.

You see, I understand that recently, Andrew Green undertook to send out an email

plea to peoples around the world for $4600, so that he can buy a head to replace the

one that he has firmly inserted up his ass, and has had thus for years, despite my best

ministrations to relieve this self-inflicted and, I must say, rather childish, stupid

malady.  I cannot understand why Andrew Green insists on this arrangement.  Must

like the smell or something.

At any rate, when I spoke with Andrew Green about why he can no longer remove his

head from his ass -- it's due to the suction of his plunger-like lips, coupled with the fact

that his ears have spread out and are now acting like wing nut anchors, to hold his

head in place.  You should see an x-ray of when he sneezes like that....the last AMA

meeting was quite unable to continue with serious business of the rest of that day. 

Never saw 1200 medical professionals laugh so hard in all their life.  But, of course, I


What it comes down to is this:  the head that Andrew believes I told him was available

to him via a donor in Istanbul, Turkey, the "one owner" head the donor picked up in's shrunken.  Yes, you read that correctly:  it's shrunken.  Bali is famous for

natives who are gifted in the science of shrinking heads.  And THAT is what Andrew

Green is unknowingly trying to buy.

Lord knows I've tried to clear it up for him.  But when the head with what little of his

atrophied brain is left, is jammed irretrievably up his ass, you learn that your patient is

just not receptive to coherent, cognizant reality.  Only digestive functions, their waste

by-product, and methane.

Yes, that's EXACTLY what I mean:  Andrew Green is a methane sniffing addict.  And

he can't help it, what with his head irremovably jammed up his ass.  It doesn't help

matters that army ants ate off his dick when he was stupid enough to try to sodomize

a carcass the ants were disseminating for their colony.  Army ants don't like to share

and can make that absolutely clear.  As they did to dickless Andrew.

Anyway, I am asking you all to not send money to Andrew Green; rather write to him

and explain to him that a shrunken head from Bali is (a) not functional any more, (b)

isn't worth $4600, and (c) will look absolutely ridiculous on his shoulders.  Particularly

with how the rest of him is shaped.  Write to him now at and save him the mortification of spending $4600,

 only to find he bought something about the size of the winkee the ants chewed off.

I thank you for your time.


Dr. Andrew Mycroft, Proctologist to one seriously f**ked up mugu, Andrew Green

I'm sure Andrew Mycroft was a bit perplexed by the turn his email took, if he bothered to read it.  But I wasn't done, as I threw in one more:  allegedly from a Captain Mandy Clark, in Kabul, Afghanistan, who wanted to let me in on some foreign loot stash scam that's been going around, and kept it somewhat along the same theme:

Subject: Andrew "Mugu" Green 
Whiskey Union! you low-information voters out there, that's Wazz Up?

At ease!  I am Captain Mandy "Manimal" Clark, a bad ass dyke serving with the Multinational forces in Detroit, Michigan, where it's a hot time every time the Red Wings, Pistons or Tigers play.  Not so much with the Lions...they suck. 
Okay, can the laughter...I didn't give you jackwagoned douchenozzles permission to LAUGH!  Attennnnn-HUH!  There, you plunger lipped mugu morons, that's better! 
Now follow me on this, jackwagons, because this is friggin' Roger Fallopian Idaho....that's Really F**king Important to you low informationers.....there's this military base, see, called Tarin Kot, located in this country called Afghanistan.  And this has NOTHING to do widdit!  BUT...there's this medical unit called the MASH 4077, see, that's located in Baghdad,Iraq, but they THINK they're in Korea, see?  And THAT has nothing to do with what I gotz ta tell ya here, neither!
Patience, Plunger Lips, I'm getting there!
I am now in Detroit on New Black Panther watch -- them idiots will burn down anything to celebrate a sports team victory, other than for the Lions, who suck -- but I am soon to be deployed to Kabul,  Afghanistan, to investigate the story that Andrew Green (email: has his cranial head up his ass, his crotch head eaten off by army ants, and he needs $4600 to buy a replacement head from a donor in Istanbul, Turkey, who is really baiting Andrew with counterfeit Western Union receipts!!!  See how MUGU STUPID  Andrew Green is???
Anyway, I just wanted to tell you all -- actually, ORDER YOU ALL -- not to send Andrew Green one scheckel of money.  He's the BRAVO SIERRA FOXTROT MIKE (Biggest Stupid F**king Mugu) to ever not be aborted!!!
Completely unrelated, I have a proposal for you.  I want to hump your leg.  Please contact me urgently without delay .I'm standing by for your urgent response I will await your thoughts via my email :

Thanks for your time,
Best Regards,
Mandy "Manimal" Clark

So far, this latest rain of emails hasn't move Andrew Green to violate his 'non-response' policy.  But let's say...just say...that mebbe that $4600 Western Union ol' Greenie is trying to cash...let's just say that's from a fellow scambaiter....not that I know it to be true...mebbe...

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Friday, March 15, 2013

Cartman Wouldn't Mock These Dolphins

South Park's Eric Cartman thought dolphins were stupid, getting caught in fishing nets.

Cartman thought like that before he knew anything about THESE dolphins.

Yeppers...some bad ass dolphins are now loose on the high seas.   These are not your father's "Flipper".  These are military highly trained, death-dealing dolphins of the Special Ukrainian Commandos.

Love Boat, beware.

Here isn't the story that ran on CBS News out of Seattle, WA; no, here is the story that was edited here and is now running on the Skunkfeathers Blog out of Lakewood, CO:

Warning, Warning: "Comrade Flipper", Has A Poptart And Is Not Afraid To Use It!
Sevastopol Onionski News Agency (affiliated with pmsnbc-ski)
March 13, 2013
Dateline: Sevastopol, Ukraine

Talk about blunders under the sea.

Three elite Ukrainian commando dolphins have gone AWOL. And at last report, they’re pissed, combative and testosteronal.  Which means for low information voters out there who're able to read that the dolphins are horny.

The dolphins are highly trained, intelligent, can play chess with multiple opponents, solve Rubik Cubes, play The 1812 Overture on undersea bagpipes, know tai kwan bowfin and can strike anywhere, with or without union representation.

Ukrainian media, aided greatly by the morons at pmsnbc, who know how to make up crap stories for Rachal Madcow, Ed Schultz and Chris "Wets Himself Over Nobama" Matthews, reported earlier this month that three military-trained dolphins didn’t return to their base in the Crimean port of Sevastopol. The dolphins – when ordered back to port at the conclusion of a training exercise – reportedly squealed in Ukrainian dolphinese, "F**k You, We Gonna Get Laidski!", and refused further efforts at communication with Charlie Tunaski.

These particular dolphins – identified according to an unnamed Ukrainian military secrets leak spokesperson, as Boris, Natasha and Fearless Leader – are trained in the use of special devices designed to look like poptart-shaped guns, to scare the snarf out of enemy divers, school administrators and politicians. They are also adept in the use of particularly gnarly dolphin flatulence, potent enough to sink enemy ships and cause fish stampedes, as well as tsunamis in low-lying coastal locations.

Ukraine refuses to reveal if the three missing dolphins had other offensive equipment on them when they went missing, but it is believed that they are out seeking to answer up to normal animal instincts.

As in get laid.

Pin-up photos of Dianne Feinstein and Janet Napolitano were found in Boris and Fearless Leader’s bivouacs. Bad as these were, the significance of the photo in Natasha’s pen –  Nancy Pelosi – elicited winces from Ukrainian military officials.

The Ukrainian dolphin program goes back to the popularity of the US-based TV show Flipper. During the cold war, it was the stated porpoise of the the U.S.S.R. to train dolphins to attack enemies’ TV programming -- which may explain why we now have a reality TV show about the Kardashians -- and to locate World War II-era sunken ships loaded with vodka.

When the U.S.S.R. became the U.F.F.R. – Union of Fewer and Fewer Republics – they handed over the program to the Ukrainians, in order to blame them for the bad puns in this article.

Dolphins are used in militaries across the world. Well, not so much in Liechtenstein.

After this story, how long do you think it'll be before school administrators start banning representations of dolphins packing poptarts?  I'll bet Joe Pags knows...

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Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Lib Drones?

A recent story in Forbes was of minor interest.

Until I had one of those unpatented *TOING*s that you sometimes kinda hate when they happen.

Especially since I gave into it.

The story suggested that a foreign airline pilot -- on approach to JFK Airport in NYC -- spotted what appeared to be a 'drone' aircraft, possibly violating FAA airspace regulations.

Like the government minds their laws being violated (aka, immigration, border security, voter registration, etc).  Guess it all depends on who the violaters donated to or voted for.

At any rate, I had to answer that *TOING*...and I did, widda little edit of my own.  And here is how the story truly* plays out:

Fat Libtard-looking, Soda-Hunting Drones Over Brooklyn? Eh..Mebbe
By E. Whitacker Walt, Staph ‘n Strep Writer
I write about the liberal idiots of today, and how they’ll f**k up technology of the future  
The Federal Aviation & Beverage Size Administration is investigating a report of an unmanned drone flying over New York City on Monday, looking for violations of Mayor Miguelito Loveless Bloomin’Idiotberg’s fascist soda drink size restrictions.

New Yorkers should probably start hiding in the subways with their 20 oz and larger sodas, the sooner the better.
According to a report on that had nothing to do with Chris Matthews wetting himself uncontrollably while looking at a picture of the current worst potus in history – though sources confirm that this did happen – the pilot of a ‘Ey, Fuggetaboutdit passenger jet reported spotting "a large, unkempt, mustard-stained unmanned facsimile of Michael Moore-looking dirigible-like aircraft" while on final approach to John F. Kennedy Airport in New York. The object was lumbering over Brooklyn, four to five miles west of the airport, at an altitude of approximately 1,500 feet, with neon arrows lighting up and pointing to persons on the ground with soda containers that were 20 oz and larger, according to the pilot.
New York Police Department Commissioner Ray Kelly recently denied having said that he was acting as the agent for Hizzlackofhonor in researching of and procuring drones for use in patrolling over NYC to make sure BloominIdiotberg’s crackdown on 20 oz ‘n larger soda containers is rigidly enforced. NYPD told Law & Order’s Sam Waterston that the ban on large sodas included him, causing him to threaten to quit a show that’s already cancelled.

And when air traffic controllers radioed other pilots in the area and asked them to look out for the flying object, all the pilots were so busy hiding their 24 oz Slurpees, everyone else apparently missed that it had deflated and wound up in the East River as a temporary trans-fatty island.

Assuming the ‘Ey Fuggetaboudit pilot wasn’t simply mistaken and saw something like a runaway Whoopi Goldberg Bloviating balloon, the most likely explanation is that he spotted a DNC predator drone out looking for conservatives, and mistook it for an unmanned drone built to look like a fat, unkempt Hollyweird libtard.

Explains Department of Homeland Security’s Janet "Border’s Fine, Nothing To See Here" Napolipflappo, "Many "toy" planes and UFOish weather balloons are capable of reaching altitudes far in excess of 1,500 feet, and some of them are quite fat, like Michael Moore".

"F**k", she says, forgetting she’s not in the Situation Room with no microphones, "some RC companies even make models that look just like the Occupy Nothing Useful protesters, so that they can spy on police agencies to determine just where the cops have hidden their "Brown Note Crowd Dispersal" machines the cops keep denying they have".

FAA regulations reportedly limit model planes to a maximum flight altitude of 400 feet, but since the government doesn’t enforce border security or voting laws, it’s not hard to imagine an Occupy RC fan being allowed to flaunt that limit because he voted at least a dozen times for the current worst potus in history.
The ‘Ey Fuggetaboudit pilot’s reported sighting of the blimp – four to five miles west of JFK airport and over an area long known for its restaurants and fattening, greasy foods – also bolsters a theory that the Moore blimp had slipped a programming cog, and was seeking out greasy burger establishments, to go and gorge on after the flight.

The Yoda-look-a-like fitness guru, Richard Simmons was asked about this, but he stormed off the interview because someone laughed at how ridiculous he looked.

Any sort of unauthorized legal voting by registered conservative voters with soda containers of 20 oz or more anywhere near JFK or within spitting distance of the city limits of NYC poses a threat, since they could collide with the rampant and wanton abject stupidity now being imposed by the mayor who clearly has lost all sense of when to change his Depends.

Listening now for the sound of a libtard drone near you...or is that just AlGore verbally flatulating again?

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Saturday, March 9, 2013

I Am Not Making (Most Of) This Up

Seymour 'n friends before he heads to Califorlornia
As a friend years ago once opined to me, "my life is absurd".

Uh huh.  If I didn't understand then...I so do now.

Most of you have by now heard of Seymour, my pet rock.  In the photo here, Seymour and his friends are gathered for an impromptu send off, before Seymour went on his next excursion, to stay with online friends in Califorlornia.

As a far more famous humorist has oft-claimed, I am not making that up.

A colleague at work recently asked me how was it that my pet rock gets to take more vacations than I do.  The answer shocked even me a bit:  (1)  Seymour can travel, round trip, for about $30.  (2)  Seymour is always hosted, so he has no hotel fees, no rental car fees, all meals are provided, all entertainment is provided.  (3) Seymour has no out of pocket expenses whatsoever.  (4) A good thing for a pet rock with no pockets.

I'm thinking I should hate my pet rock.  And I may start, but not for those reasons.

Seymour became my pet rock in April 2000.  He didn't make his first journey until March 2007, and then it was his biggest since his jaunt as ballast on the Santa Maria (at least according to Seymour):  he and his then 'girlfriend' Jane -- a pet earette of corn I swiped from a field in Iowa in September 2005 -- were invited to go to Japan with a writing friend who lived on Shiraishi Island (in the Inland Sea), and ran the Moooo! Bar on the beach there.  So off Seymour and Jane went to Shiraishi Island, the Moooo! Bar, and a year and a half of "now what is she writing to tell me that Seymour's done now?". 

See, while in Japan...Seymour 'knocked up' Jane.

Now I lived on a farm for a spell and I know something about photosynthesis, pollination and crap like that.  But I never heard of no photoSINthesis that allowed a pet rock to knock up an earette of corn.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking...but it's a true story.  My writing friend sent me pictures.

Anyway, to make a long story strange and truncated, Seymour and Jane came back and went to my friend's parents farm in Ohio, where -- so the story goes -- Seymour tried to make it with a table place setting, Jane ran off with 'Head' (a mannequin head she and Seymour met at the Moooo! Bar), and Seymour had to be spirited out of town to a nearby UPS store by a lady dressed in a cow outfit.

I am not making this up; my writing friend might have.  Except the part about the lady in the cow suit.  I have a picture.

So next, Seymour -- now Janeless and muttering all sorts of nasty things about mannequin heads in general -- got to go visit a writing friend and her husband in Texas.  Where my friend decided to 'matchmake' Seymour with Windy...a wind chime.

True story; I have wedding pictures.

Now they say that love is blind, and in the case of a pet rock and a wind chime, I reckon there had to be a whole lotta blindness going on.  But they seemed to get along okay when first back here -- with her hanging from the clock, and Seymour on the entertainment center, making time -- it seemed right and proper for the couple to go off and honeymoon in North Carolina.

Which they did, with another writing friend, her daughter 'Pixie' and her 550 pound tiger, Kellogg.

True story; I have pictures.  Of everyone BUT Kellogg.

While there, Seymour -- I guess -- got a bit friendly with 'Skull' during a Halloween party, and Windy took none to kindly to it, for when they came back, Windy chose not to accompany Seymour on his next Virginia.

Which in a way was too bad:  Seymour got cultured.  He got to paint.  To read.  He became learned.  He helped cook (and never once set THEIR kitchen on fire).  He played in the snow.  And one of his real highlights was a sightseeing tour of Washington DC.

True story; I have pictures.

Seymour later told me that he rather liked DC from a geo-political standpoint, because the town is full of blockheads.

For once, neither of us could respond to the other with a series of "oh, nuh UH!"s.

Alas, when Seymour came back from Virginia, Windy decided to put an end to their sham marriage, and she went back to Texas.  Which seemed not to bother Seymour a great deal, since -- as he confided to me -- he said that everytime he tried to get close to Windy, "she tinkled".

I guess it didn't help that I laughed at that.  Seymour didn't appreciate what I just did there.

So, single again, Seymour went off to Loveland, CO, to spend time on a mini-ranch with my sister and brother-in-law.  There Seymour got to ride horses, discuss politics with cows, watch a crazy dog play soccer, help my mother wonder where she went wrong with me and help my Sis put together puzzles.  And best of all, no dogs, horses, cows, or neighboring elk and alpacas got knocked up.

True story; I have pictures.

So now, I sent Seymour off to Califorlornia, a state that once had a liberal governor who was so bad, they waited a few terms and re-elected him to finish screwing up what he hadn't already before.

True story; just watch the nightly news when they get around to talking about something other than the Kardashians.

Seymour is being hosted by another blogging friend and her husband.  And sadly, Seymour has not been behaving again.

Last week, I was notified that Seymour is now the 'geology of interest' in a....paternity suit

I am not making that up; it remains to be seen if my blogging friend is.  I don't have pictures yet, but expect to shortly.

Yes, apparently Seymour became infatuated with a large decorative sandstone outside of his host's residence.  I am told 'her' name is Julia Sandstone. 

At the moment, I am accepting on faith that that is a true story.

Anyway, if the suit is to be believed, Seymour got randy with and knocked up a sandstone boulder approximately 100 (or more) times his size.  No biology class I ever took prepared me for this.

I doubt a geology class would have, either.

Now I don't know what the state of Califorlornia expects to get out of Seymour, let alone 'Julia' (though allegedly she 'got' out of Seymour all she's ever gonna...*rimshot*).  He has no job.  He has no property.  He has no 401k, Keough, IRA, NRA, INS, BFR or any acronym of value.  And while some think that since Seymour is a mineral, and thus that's where his assets are hidden, I can tell you from personal knowledge and experience of having this particular pet rock for the past thirteen years...that's a lode.


At any rate...when Seymour gets home, it is obvious to me that he and I will need to have an extended heart to quartz chat about the facts of life, and that Silicon Valley has nothing to do with them implant thingees.

See....Seymour is next tentatively scheduled to visit a blogging friend in Arkansas. 

True story; I am not making that up.

So while I ponder how to address this with a misbehaving pet rock, I called my local Walgreens:

Them:  Walgreens Pharmacy, how can I help you?
Me:  I uh...I need to find some condoms for a pet rock.
Them:  Of course, we h...excuse me?
Me:  I need to find some condoms for a pet rock.
Them:  Have a nice day...*click*

At least I got a 'nice day' out of it.

True story; I am not making that up.

So what, you might ask, am I making up?

Me having a 'heart to quartz' talk with a pet rock about the facts of life.  Can you imagine how that would look?  After all, I have an image to maintain...

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Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Pills 'n Frills

In my spam folder I get a lot of discounted drug advertisements.

All with links...most of which end in .ru....Russia.

Whether or not they actually ARE in Russia, who knows?

I just know they end in .ru.

My latest one made me laugh, because the drug spammer made three attempts to spell Viagra.  And went 0 for 3.

Here's the email:

From:  Try Vigraa
Sales Sales Sales

Winter is over. Melt the ice with our best Vaigra pils !

** Propecia - 0.10$
-- Leivtra - 1.89$
-> Cailis - 1.74$
** Vagra - 0.65$

He didn't do any better with the other drugs, save, I think, for Propecia.  And at the bottom was a link to some gawd-knows-where site.

Well, despite the fact that the email address this was listing as sent from was probably borscht, I decided to have some funski with the email, just on accounta cuz.  Besides, it would allow me to annoy Andrew Green some more  (see previous post).

It came out like dis heah:

Subject: Inane discomps
Helloski good capitalist!

Sales Sales Sales...we gotz sales, yes we do, we gotz sales that suck, they do!  We gotz drugs that blow the goat, we gotz drugs that make you bloat!
Now you know why we make online pharmacy and not contestant on American Idol, but I digress-ski...

Winter is over. Melt her ice with our best Vaigra pils !  Worry not if we can't spell worth a sh*t; hell, we're Russian and this English crap is not our borscht!
From the finest counterfeit pills that we could grind up, mix with baking soda, powdered sugar, and earth from around Chernobyl, we have make for you, the capitalist pig, our goodest brand of black market proscripted drugs, absolut-ly (see what we just did there, Comrade?) none of which we can spell, because we're Russians and if it ain't Cyrillic, we stupidski:
** Prospecia - 0.10$
** Conniva - 0.11$
** Lady Madonna - 0.12$
** Wethimself of Chris Matthews - 0.01$ (Depends not included)
** Leivtra - 1.89$
** Cailis - 1.74$
** Oscar Madison Anthony Weiners (endorsed by Sandra Fluke) - 0.19$
** Vagra - 0.65$
** Invitrovegemin - 0.64$
** Insomnia - 0.25$
** Ingrowd - 0.24$
** Inplant - 0.19$
** Outpatient - 0.018 and a third$
** Stain of Clinton - 0.01$ (not in big demand so much now)
** Zooloft - 1.18$
** Hayloft - 0.18$
** Earwax - 0.15$
** Eye of genital wart - 0.09$
** Tail of Nancy Pelosi - (we can't GIVE this sh*t away)
** Brain cell of AlGore - (ditto)
** Earl of Cloves - 0.07$
** Milk of Amnausea - 0.06$
** Bicarbonate of Sordid - 0.05$
** Bile of Zugspitz - 0.04$
** Root of Nose Hair - 0.03$
** Essence of Uranus - (see Tail of Nancy Pelosi, above)
And we gotz a lot more sh*t like that for our capitalist friends!  Find us at  or look us up under NKVD in the outdated Red Pages (making comeback under RasPutin).

I didn't get any feedback from anyone, so it's obvious that Andrew Green still ain't talkin' to me...

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Sunday, March 3, 2013

Scam Wars Meets Colostomy

I'm sure many of you have heard by now that Hollyweird is looking into a seventh installment of Star Wars, and that Harrison Ford, Mark Hamill and (Who But Yoda Can Lift) Carrie Fisher are thinking of signing on.

Eh...if Stallone can prop up Rocky and Rambo with formaldehyde, bondo and loads of make up, why not?

Long as they leave Juju Binks out of the script.

Anyway, I got a scamtest email for something I'd never heard of before, but felt it had to have some use as a future blog post.  It went like this:

Ticket number : (GUI45856CS89)
Ballot number :(BN:6220914657/HBZ-T)

You emerged lucky winner in this year's Arthur Guinness new year draws held
here in the United Kingdom.

Kindly confirm that this email is valid by sending the above ticket and ballot
to Mr. Andrew Green (
) or call him on +447042064427
for verification and further winning details.If you do not send your
confirmation email to Mr.Green, your winning will not be processed


Frank O'Brine
Arthur Guinness Foundation.1759

And what, you might ask, could one such as I, do with such an offer? Well...when I saw ‘Guinness’, I added two and two, multiplied by 12, subtracted 11, and came up with an egg roll. Which defies mathematical probabilities, save for the fact that here, there are no probabilities only do or not do, there is no try.

Anyway, I had a *TOING* that had a forceful resonance, and remembering the recent entertainment news, well.....Mwhahaha: I turned to recent headlines from Hollyweird, that’s what:

Alec Guinness Foundation
F**k yeah!!! We have exciting news!!!

First there was Han Solo. Then Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia. They've all agreed to take one foot out of the grave to come back and reprise their roles in Star Wars VII: Return Of The Depends Jedi

Now we have MORE exciting news: You emerged lucky winner in this year's "Who Gets To Dig Up Alec Guiness and Yoda to Ask Them To Return For Star Wars VII" draws held here in the United Kingdom.

Yes, we in the UK are some sick, perverse buggers. But we have whacking great fun at it, haggis and kidney pudding aside!
  Kindly confirm that this email is valid by replying to this bloody rubbish to Mr. Andrew Green (
) or call him on +447042064427for to tell him what a f**king ghoulish wanker he is for this revolting contest. Personally, some of us feel that Yoda should be left to rest in peace in Muppet Heaven. A green grumpy curmudgeon of a wielder of the Force is not to be trifled with. Your living room furniture might start flying about the room and kicking your sorry ass.

As for Ol' Ben...well, you could use Clint Eastwood..."Go ahead Dark Side...make me day!"...

Well won something from the dubious antecedent that sent you this sh*t. Write or call him back and tell him the rest of it. If you do not send your confirmation email to Mr.Green, he won't know what you think of his sorry, fat ass.
Frank O'Brineshrimp
Alec Guiness Foundation For The Lightsabering Of Dumbasses


It doesn't come as any great surprise that this edit didn't elicit a response from Mr. Green or any of the other recipients.  HOWEVER...I added Mr. Green to a couple-three subsequent mailing lists for receiving subsequent edits of other choice scam emails.  It took about four -- the last one being particularly graphic -- and that finally drew a heated response from Mr. Green (you can tell a heated email response 'cuz it's all in caps:


Now, I'm not terribly worldly -- for instance, I have no idea what side of the plate chop sticks go on at a formal chinese restaurant -- but I know what a junk is:  (a) stuff in the garage (b) a Chinese sail boat and/or (c) what TSA likes to fondle at the airport.  But instead of respond directly to Mr. Green, and perhaps embarrass him with what I do actually know...I decided to embarrass him as the subject of yet another scam email edit:

Subject: Andrew Green Colostomy Project 

Hello  Friend,

Thank you for your very positive, supportive response. Normally for the purpose of security,
I would have detailed my proposal carefully outlined in an attached PDF file.  But I don't have time for that sh*t, so here it is.
My friend, Andrew Green (email  <>) has, sadly, spent much of his miscreant life with his head firmly up his ass.  So much so, the shape of his colon and anus is now seriously misaligned.  He leaks feces everywhere.
He's embarrassing to be seen in public with.
But since you have shown an interest in stepping up to help, I am seeking primate donations to help Andrew by getting him reconstructive ass surgery; ahead of that -- see what I just did there? -- he will undergo intensive 'head up ass abatement therapy', so that the reconstructive ass surgery will stop this very aberrent, sh*t spewing behavior of his.
You can see how vital your positive response is to this project.
So...if you will undertake to contact and solicit each and every primate you know for funds to achieve this dual purpose, I feel that I am in a position to save a dumbass cretin like Andrew Green from himself and his weird, perverse habits.
After we whip this one, I need to work on his love of sodomizing brillo pads.  One major crisis at a time.
Please send me a reply so that I may forward you how to wire primate donations for Andrew's anal salvation.  And copy him on each one, so he knows how much the internet world knows about his problem and is rallying to his cause.
Or you can just bait the pervert if you want.
Sincerely....well sorta,
Lei Wang
Mr. Green took part of a day before he got around to responding.  Perhaps it was the dozen or so emails I poured into his box after insisting I stop with my 'junk'.  At any rate, he responded thus:



Yeah, I know:  shoulda just let it go.  No one is beyond a typo here and there. 
But that ain't me.  So...not being a doctor or playing one behind the woodpile, I nonetheless tried to be helpful:  "Is your cramp anal, abdominal, or cranial? The first two have over the counter meds available; the last one requires you to stop being a moron to achieve relief".
He won't talk to me now...

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