Thursday, August 25, 2005

love schemes

I'd forgotton how nice it is to have this kind of outlet for my whimsy. And, I don't have to set anything up! Sweet!

Anyway, I got some spam today that wasn't automatically redirected by hotmail, but because I'd posted an email address on my profile I thought I'd give it a look. Boy, am I ever happy I did! Zowee! Here's a snippet of the email I got:


accept my sincere apologies if my mail does not meet your
personal ethics. I will introduce myself as Mr.Robbin Kuuk,
a staff in the accounts management section of the above
firm here in the United Kingdom.

One of our accounts with holding balance of �15,000,000
(Fifteen Million British Pounds) has been dormant and has
not been operated for the past four (4) years.

From my investigations and confirmations, the owner of
this account, a foreigner by name Kurt Kahle died in
July, 2000...
It goes on, of course, but I think you know what it says. I enjoyed the fresh plot of a British businessman dealing in Pounds Sterling instead of the usual hereditary prince of BFA, so I thought I'd reward them with a reply. Here it is:

Hello Mr. Robbin Kuuk -

Do you believe in love at first read?

I sure do. Having received your email regarding what, I don't know, and having read the glorious prose through which you set forth some fraudulent scheme, I instantly became wholly infatuated with you.

Will you bear my children? Will you blow alternating hot and cold? Will you make sweet, sweet, love to me and my family while we discuss financial balderdash and evil identity theft plot schemes? Oh, I do hope so.

Ethics need not be considered. My steaming pile of love for you transcends ethics, travels deep into and well beyond the cold, desolate realm of scruples, envelopes and destroys the concepts of money, power, and sexuality, whizzes at lightning speed by the flesh-eating morass of politics, government and soverignity, and leads (hopefully) to your soft, wet cavities.

Pleasure me with your English Pounds. Load your ridiculously improbable amounts of money onto my hardened, thrumming sex drive, and let us fuck away our cares. I'll do you first, and once I've had my way with your hidden Kuuk, we'll see about you getting yours.

If there is any possibility of us meeting in person, so I can fill you with my hot bank deposit and you can wear my identity like a mask over your bulging, deceased assets, please reply and let me know. I am eager to feel your skin on my sharpened objects.

Please, please do not ignore my fantasy. If you do, I'll tell my daddy who works at Fox News. I know you.


The last time I replied to one of these (he was "African" with a poor command of the english language), we went back and forth discussing the possibility of burying the money he had access to in my backyard. I'm hoping for some more exciting fireworks this time.

Currently Listening:
By Mastadon

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