The Old Fake African Lawyer Shell Company Ploy

They are a horde and a pestilence that Moses wouldn't have seen coming. They creep in and out of the dark shadows of the internet, spamming our blogs and emails and sending us scams as they go along. They are the damned. The cursed. The beyond hope. They are the homo sapiens spammeritis annoyingus, commonly known as the internet scammer and spammer. The following recently came through my email. It's one I've seen before. But the accompanying name stood out.

Dear Friend,   
I am a lawyer by profession here in my country Togo--Lome west Africa, one of my clients from your country used to work with a shell development company here in the republic of TOGO Africa. My client, his wife and their only daughter were involved in an auto crash here in my country. I decided to contact you so that the $10.5M Dollars he left behind in a bank here will be transferred to your bank account immediately

Best regards,

Barrister Mark .Donald .Duck 

Chamber.

As mentioned, I've seen this one before. Short and to the point, and pretty much copy and paste, with just the name changing. In this case one Mark Donald Duck. As in the most incomprehensible character in Disney animated history, not to mention the one character in their library of characters with the deepest anger management problems. Who likes walking around in a shirt and cap, but no pants.

Yes, that Donald Duck.

Oh, right, yes. That makes sense. Are these people really that stupid? Or are they even more stupid, and not realize there's a character by that name? Could it be that in a global entertainment culture they're oblivious to the existence of the cranky duck who cannot be understood? Have they been that sheltered?

You would think considering how much noise the duck makes that it would be hard to miss him.

Nice try, numbskull. Really. I get it, you have no marketable skill for a real job, and so you do this from whatever dark corner of the world you're really in. Hoping beyond hope that someone will be dumb enough to believe you. It sure as hell isn't me. But maybe someone on that list of half a million random emails you send this out to will buy it, and promptly lose a few thousand dollars as an "administrative fee" before you disappear back down the rabbit hole.

Sigh. In an ideal world, we could load you into one of these things, and then launch you into a blazing fire.

The Pumpkin Spice Latte Blockbuster

Egomaniac Director Announces Latest Film Project; Millions Of Latte Drinkers Guzzle Fake Drink

Los Angeles (AP) It is a rite of the fall- for the last fifteen or so years. The time when white girls in leggings stir and go out in search of pumpkin spice lattes in every coffee shop they can find. Even if there's no pumpkin in the lattes. It's become a trend that has caught on, and will seemingly never go away, with millions drinking the vile brew as long as the drink stays in stock (editor: it's a mystery).

And in a year where we've had a Mattel toy turn into a blockbuster, it was just a matter of time before someone decided to do the same with other consumer products. Like a drink. 

Reporters were summoned this week to the headquarters of Platinum Dunes for an announcement from the explosion happy, self absorbed director Michael Bay (editor: he's such a buffoon).

Real reporters were outnumbered in the auditorium by entertainment reporters. The latter group were gushing about what might be announced, and the odds of Bay winning an Oscar (editor: the chances are a snowball's chance in hell). A staff member came out and called for attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, if I may? Put your hands together and welcome the greatest cinematic visionary of all time... Mr. Michael Bay!!!!!!"

She left stage, and on came Bay himself, grinning like a buffoon, laughing and waving to the entertainment reporters, who were applauding and cheering. He was oblivious to the scorn of the real reporters, who were shaking their heads, rolling their eyes, and checking their watches. Bay strode up to the podium, where a full length mirror had been set up, and winked at himself (editor: this is why he's not married. He's in love with himself).

"Hello there!" Bay called out as the applause of the entertainment reporters began to die down. "Welcome! Great of you to come out and see a genius at work. You know, it's been said that I tend to make films for a male teenage audience. And I suppose that's fair. I mean, the explosions, the hot women waxing cars, the explosions, the rock underscore. But that's not all that's out there. This summer has seen a big blockbuster come out that seems to speak to women and girls. I went and saw it, and I was, well, confused. Didn't really get it. I mean, there weren't any explosions. It was Barbie. But hey, I figured, maybe I'm not supposed to get it. But I thought to myself, I've been ignoring a whole element of the population by making films for the niche market I make them for."

Michael Bay? Capable of personal growth? This reporter doubted it. Bay carried on. "Anyway, what I came to decide was that I could look to other things to focus on, and tell stories about. And I've noticed in the last couple of weeks that these pumpkin spice lattes were being out there again and being drunk. And lots of white women drinking them. This confuses me, because, well, I don't actually like Starbucks, and I never had one. But I thought about it. And hey, let's face it, if you can make a blockbuster movie about a Mattel doll, why not about a drink?"

Entertainment reporters broke out into applause. The real reporters sighed (editor: he can't be serious). Bay nodded. "So that's why the next film project in the pipeline is going to focus on a career minded woman, a member of the NYPD. A bomb disposal expert who likes her pumpkin spice lattes but doesn't want anyone to know about it, because she figures she won't be taken seriously. And it's about a mad bomber who plants a bomb in one Starbucks pumpkin spice latte dispenser in New York City on opening day of pumpkin spice latte season."

The real reporters shook their heads. The entertainment reporters cheered and roared. "Now, for my leading lady, one of my favourite actresses and one of yours... Megan Fox!!!!!!" Bay announced.

Fox came out on stage, wearing her usual low cut attire, smiling vacantly, and strode up to join Bay. "Hey there! Good to be playing this role. I'm proud to represent all the pumpkin spice latte drinkers out there in this pivotal role that's going to get me the Oscar."

Bay nodded. "And playing the villain, the mad bomber.... my old pal, Nicolas Cage!"

Cage stumbled out on stage, smoking a Havana cigar and holding a bottle of Scotch. He staggered over to Bay and Fox, and waved a bit. "Hello! Good to be back working with my favourite people." (editor: how drunk is he?)

Bay nodded. "And there you have it. Proof that I can make films for women about things they love, like pumpkin spice latte. And I can make a mint on it. Because when you mix together pumpkin spice latte and explosions and Aerosmith doing the theme song and more explosions, what's not to like?"

"Is Starbucks going to sue you?" one reporter asked. 

Bay shrugged. "Not planning on actually saying their name out loud in the movie, so what for?"

Bay carried on. "Now we'll have to figure out a title for this genius idea of a movie of mine. Because Pumpkin Spice Latte, as much as it moves drinks, isn't a good movie title. But we'll come to that when we come to it. For now, the important part is that this movie is going to happen, it's going to be big, and it's going to win us Oscars. Thanks, folks, you've been a blast. Thanks for coming out!" With that, Bay departed off stage with his two stars. Real reporters shook their heads with dismay. Entertainment reporters were too busy gushing with excitement (editor: they really are dumb).

Time goes on. Bay will make his film. Or not. There's an awful lot of films in the pipeline for him, and they don't seem to be getting made. In the interim, white girls will continue to buy pumpkin spice latte as if their very identity counts on it. And they will continue to believe there's pumpkin somewhere in that mix. But there's not. 

But for one egomaniac director, that doesn't matter. All that matters is the explosion.

Darwin Awards And Cranky Beasts

 I have an image blog today. Enjoy!

The Internet Scammers Versus Team Cancer

You would think at this point that they might take a hint. That they might go away. That they might do the universe a huge favour and take a long walk off a short pier. But no. Despite my ridiculing them at every chance I get, the internet spammers and scammers keep trying to get comments posted to peddle their crap, or send emails with the usual advance fee scam set up. Despite my telling them to go to hell, or using even more colourful language, they just don't get it. I've got a number of these obvious advance fee emails in my junk email at the moment. How many of them I'll use for posts like this, I don't know. Let's start with this one.

Claim of donation Fund

My name is  Mrs.Jennifer Spanier from United States,a widow suffering from

Breast Cancer and Stroke, which denied me a child as a result,i may

not last till the next two months according to my doctor report.I'm

married to late Pastor James Spanier, and we were married for many

years without any  child before his death. I'm 68 years old woman. I

have some funds i inherited from my late husband the sum of(5.8

million dollars) which i needed a very honest and God fearing person

who will claim the funds from the bank and use the funds for work of

God Affairs like; donation in the house of God,propagating the good

news of God and to endeavor God worshiping place and help

less-privileged. I found your profile and i decided to contact you for

the donation work of God.

I don't need any telephone communication in this regards because of my

health according to my doctor report, please if you would be able to

use the funds for the work of God as i stated ,contact me back so i

will lead you to Ally Bank  Limited  International in Washington DC

where this funds was deposited by my late husband Pastor Christopher

Deon, for you to retrieve the funds in my name as the next of kin.

please contact me on my private email (Jennifer.spanier@hotmail.com)

I will stop here until i hear from you.

Always pray for my health.

May God bless you In Jesus name Amen!!!

Mrs.Jennifer Spanier.

Ah, the usual sob story. The usual religious and faithful angle. The spacing angles. The capitalized words that don't need it, and the words that do need a capital letter and don't have it (honestly, you'd think how hard can it be to capitalize I?). The claim of being a widow who's sick without children and wanting someone to carry on the good work. Somehow the widow claims that her husband, a minister, left her 5.8 million bucks. Was this minister a televangelist? Because that's the only kind of minister with a whole ton of money. Money that they've gotten by fleecing their television audience of spare money, in and out, preaching the prosperity gospel and all that. Incidentally, as an aside, it's the televangelist who I hold as the ultimate example of hypocrisy and self righteousness, and a pretty good reason why I'm not on good terms with organized religion. 

She says she wants me to do "God Affairs" with this money that she claims she wants to pass onto me. The usual nonsense: spreading the good word, helping the needy (the needy being whoever the hell is at the other end of this long chain of email addresses and who's hoping to score a few thousand bucks in advance fees from the poor sucker who's dumb enough to buy into this). She claims that  she found my profile and decided to contact me for "the donation work of God". 

I see. And what from my profile makes her think I'd be ideal?

I mean, I've got less of a missionary world view and more of a Loki world view.

She says she's not reachable by phone because of her "health according to my doctor report"- to which I wonder what kind of doctor is keeping someone off a telephone? She urges me to contact her to "use the funds to do the work of God as i stated" (to which again I say, I'm a Loki). And she wants to get this all sorted by Ally Bank Limited International in Washington. Well, if you Google that, you come up with two links straight off the top, both of which are about scams.

Actually the whole concept, even at their website, makes Ally Bank look like a scam. What kind of bank doesn't have branches?

That's beside the point. Because this grifter can't even keep her story straight.

She starts off with the story about her late husband, the obscenely rich minister James Spanier. And then she ends it with saying she inherited from her late husband Pastor Christopher Deon. Also a minister. Also rich. Well, they would be if they existed, which they do not.

Which one is it, Scamming Widow? James or Christopher? 

Or is it both? 

Were you a black widow killing off her preacher husbands?

Was this a polyandrous marriage? Threesomes? 

Nice try, Scamming Widow. But if you're too stupid (which you are) to even keep your scam story straight, you deserve being ridiculed and treated with the contempt I'm giving you. Maybe in that list of hundreds of thousands of emails you send this same story to, someone's dumb enough to buy the story and send off a thousand bucks in the advance fee that is inevitable in these sort of things. Or two thousand. Or however much until they finally realize they got hustled.

But that's not the case here.

No, I'm wise to your ways.

And no, I won't pray for your health. 

I will conclude by saying it's hilarious invoking God's name while carrying out a scam. If you don't be careful, She might decide to actually give you cancer. In which case I'm rooting for Team Cancer.