A few days ago I did a post concerning all of our most loved of emails: the desperate plea of a downtrodden aristocrat overseas begging for some helpful American to allow the transfer of millions of dollars into his bank account. I posted the email and my admittedly awesome response (see original story on the 2nd half of this post) and low and behold what fruit the tree of my humor hath brought:
Dearest one,
Thanks for your mail; I thank you for your kind mind to assist me in
this hour of need. I contacted you to be my Guardian so that you will look after
me and help to look for a better investment, so that I can invest wisely when
the money is transferred to you. Everything about this money is clean. I
have suffered a lot since my father died. I have been living in a church guest
where my feeding is on charity. I can hardly take care of my self, my only hope
is for this fund to be transferred successfully to you and you come and take me
with you or you send me some from the fund that i will use to get my traveling
documents and to pay my ticket to come and meet with you. Where i will complete
my Medical Studies and start a new live.
I would like to know you a little more before I will notify the bank
director about you:
1) Your full name and address
2) How old are you
3) Are you a Christian or?
4) What do you do for a living?
5) A copy of your photograph
6) Finally Promise me that when this money gets to you that youwill not
change your mind and sit on the money.
This information will be used by me to notify the bank director about you
as a credible person that will be helping me afterwhich I will get back to you.
You have to keep this confidential and no other person should know about this
because if people that killed my parents hear of it I am finished, until the
money is transferred to you and you bring me up to your country.
I will be looking forward to your urgent response.
Sincerely,Helen
She sent me her picture, too.
I have yet to craft my response, but I did notice that Helen’s grammar and syntax has gotten astoundingly better since last week. Maybe she’s taking classes to gear up for whenever the two of us meet in financial wonderland. I don’t know what name and address I shall give the poor royal lass, but I’m thinking the following answers to her questions may go something like this:
1) (Yet to be determined)
2) 21
3) Oh no; I’m a Scientologist. Long Live L. Ron!
4) Cattle Rustler
5)
6) Perish the thought! I assure you, dear, it never even crossed my mind; you may rest assured in the knowledge that cattlemen keep their word.
The fact that I actually take time out of my day to play games such as this is a serious clue as to why I am not independently wealthy. This little interaction between myself and Helen did remind me of the best scam-o-la that I’ve ever received, this time involving a poor working-class Russian female looking for freedom and companionship in the US of A: Read Spam…With Tits! Part II.
2) 21
3) Oh no; I’m a Scientologist. Long Live L. Ron!
4) Cattle Rustler
5)
6) Perish the thought! I assure you, dear, it never even crossed my mind; you may rest assured in the knowledge that cattlemen keep their word.
The fact that I actually take time out of my day to play games such as this is a serious clue as to why I am not independently wealthy. This little interaction between myself and Helen did remind me of the best scam-o-la that I’ve ever received, this time involving a poor working-class Russian female looking for freedom and companionship in the US of A: Read Spam…With Tits! Part II.
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