Night Of The Undead Internet Scammer

You can tell them over and over again to drop dead, to go away, to take a hint and hold their breath for an hour. And yet they never listen. I speak of course of the internet scammers and spammers who send us emails that get shunted right off to junk, or try to spam our blogs. One particular post in my photoblog, for instance, is routinely targeted by endless spammers (and since it's an older post all the comments must be screened by me). I don't know what it is about that post that attracts their attention- it's a routine spring walk around in the vicinity of Parliament Hill and taking in lilacs. And yet it does. The other day I noticed one short comment- "thanks for sharing your thoughts on how to relieve headaches." 

There was nothing in that post about relieving headaches. The only headaches I get are from putting up with spammers, who in my personal opinion should all be chained together and dropped into the Marianas Trench. Yes, spammers (and scammers), I went there. You should be dropped into the ocean, chained together. Awake, alert, and knowing precisely what's about to happen to you, knowing you're about to descend into the deepest part of the ocean. 

On a related note, I sometimes visualize my idiot ex-brother-in-law in the same position.

Anyway, this brief attempt at ye olde internet scammer (aka homo sapiens scammeritis annoyingus) surfaced in my junk email the other day.

I am Feliciano Bermudez ,i got my loan of $750,000 from this firm. Are you in need of a fast and legit loan? if yes kindly contact: macroloanfirm.everyday@gmail.com for more info today. Name: Country: Required quantity: monthly income: Loan Duration: get back to us by email: macroloanfirm.everyday@gmail.com 

Where to begin? Well, how about the name. Feliciano Bermudez. Wow, did you pick that one out of a hat? A Cracker Jack box prize? A pin the tail on the donkey game that went wrong? I'd say it sounds like a fake name- and in your case it actually is- though I see from looking about online that there are actual Feliciano Bermudez names out there (complete aside: you poor bastards).

We see some of the usual tell tales: spacing issues, capitalizing things that don't need it, while not capitalizing others- after all, when we use the word I to refer to ourselves, we don't write it as "i."  Our friend with the totally fake name uses the word 'legit' to describe this loan. Because that instills me with confidence.

While our friend doesn't employ some of the other standard tell tales of a Nigerian scammer- the long drawn out story of the widow/ daughter/ assistant/ concubine of the former president/ prince/ minister/ general that we so often see in these things, and while it's shorter than you would usually expect, there are a couple of other things I'd like to touch on (aside from that ridiculous name, because had it been real, this Feliciano Bermudez would have gotten the shit kicked out of him every single day on the school yard).

Feliciano claims that he got a loan of three quarters of a million dollars from this totally fake firm. Well, first, he doesn't write like the sort of person who can pay back three quarters of a million dollars, as I've pointed out already. And second, he can't seem to keep his story straight from beginning to end. Is he claiming he got a loan from these people or is he claiming to be one of them? Because by the end of it, he's saying, 'get back to us by email'. 

Us? So which is it, Feliciano? Is it 'this firm' or is it going to be 'us'.

Your so called firm is a fly by night operation of internet scammers at the far end of a long line of fake email addresses with one objective: to score a few hundred dollars off of someone dumb enough to buy this scam. 

For the rest of us, it's just the sort of thing to make us roll our eyes when we check our junk email. And perhaps use it for blog fodder.

Do us all a favour, Feliciano.

Give yourself a few deep papercuts.

Then go for a swim.

In waters infested with great white sharks.

Put A Stake In The Bloody Sharknado

I'm back again, after a few weeks away. I needed some time away from the blog, for various reasons. We'll see for a little while what kind of schedule I'll keep from here out.

Final Sharknado Film Released, Producers Threaten To Revisit Franchise

Los Angeles (AP) The unlikely Z-movie that launched a franchise came to a close in recent days with The Last Sharknado: It’s About Time, a time traveling bit of nonsense that supposedly wrapped up the preposterous concept of sharks caught up in tornadoes and wrecking havoc with the world. The franchise gave new life to careers on life support for its two leading players, earned scorn and ridicule from anyone with good taste, and launched a million memes.

The stars and producers of the series have been on a publicity tour in the last few days since the final film in the franchise aired. Sharknado was the sort of film that was deemed so bad you had to see it, and of course despite diminishing returns in terms of ratings, for the last few years it was followed up by a number of sequels and other preposterous mashups- Lavantula, Blizwolf, Corgiquake, and TsunaMidler, a film which has not been aired since Bette Midler’s attorney filed an injunction to prevent its release.

Anthony Ferrante and David Michael Latt, who have shepherded the franchise as producers, gathered together with actors Ian Ziering and Tara Reid, who have been with the franchise since the first film as the unlikely protagonists Fin and April. Actress Vivica A. Fox, who appeared in the second and sixth installments of the franchise, joined them on a stage at the production offices of The Asylum. Real reporters were assembled along with entertainment reporters, who were in a delirious state, having had watched the film five times straight.

Much has been said about how this film closes out the franchise. Time travel to stop the sharknadoes from ever starting is employed. A schmuck of a leading man bounces around time to save the world, meeting historical figures and stumbling through big events. Nazis, dinosaurs, American Revolutionary figures, knights, and far more are all exploited in a mashup of a plot with plotholes so big you could fly a jumbo jet through them. The requisite cameos of people playing themselves or unlikely roles (Latoya Jackson as Cleopatra? Seriously???) are all accounted for. People with a working brain might muse that time travelers could do us all a favour and remove Ferrante, Latt, Ziering, and Reid from the timeline.

“Sharknado has been a blessing,” Ziering was saying on stage, smiling like a loon. “Before all this started, I was in trouble. My days of teen hearthtrobness in 90210 was behind me. The parts had dried up, the loan sharks were ready to break my legs, and I was subsisting on dollar store macaroni and cheese every night. Now I’m a star again. Life is good for the Big Z.”

“It paid for my latest round of plastic surgery,” Reid added.

Fox smiled. “And you wouldn’t think to look at you.”

“Thanks. Wait, was that a compliment?” Reid asked.

“A lot of people have been talking over the last few days about how we wrapped things up,” Latt cut in. “Is this really the final Sharknado? Do Fin and April get the chance to have a happy ending and walk off into the sunset together? Or are we going to go back on our word and release, say, Sharknado 7: Revenge Of The Hammerheads. Incidentally, that’s only the working title for the next film. Wait, did I say that out loud?”

Reid spoke up again. “You know, people come up to us in the streets and thank us for making these films. Sharknado has become this cultural icon that the fans just love to pieces. Not shark bite sized pieces. I mean, it’s the kind of story you can sit down and watch with the kids and your grandma while sharks get tossed out of the skies and start eating Al Roker. It’s Americana, everyone. That Norman Rockhead guy couldn’t have painted it any better than how we tell it. Apple pie, football on Friday nights, and Sharknado. That’s America at its best.”

“Shakespeare, eat your heart out,” Ziering boasted. “If he was around today, he’d be writing stories just like this. Because Sharknado is high art. It’s our best expression of culture and spirit and ambition. I don’t see why we’re not getting lavished with awards for it, but maybe that’s just some big conspiracy to give awards to movies that aren’t as good as ours are. Particularly since we got rid of that miserable has-been Hasselhoff.”

David Hasselhoff, the Z-list actor, egotistical buffoon, and full blown alcoholic, had appeared in a couple of the films as Fin’s father Gil, but had been removed after fights with Ziering and a subsequent mutual restraining order preventing the two actors from being in the same place. An uneasy tension settled over the room, broken by a shout. “I heard that!” Everyone turned. There, standing at the back of the room, was the Z-list actor himself, with bloodshot eyes suggesting he had been drinking, holding a half empty bottle of vodka that confirmed that he had been drinking. He looked mad. “You take that back!”

Ziering sneered. “Make me!”

Hasselhoff advanced through the room. “I didn’t raise you to talk back, you punk!”

Fox asked, “Are you aware that you were only playing his character’s father?”

“Don’t confuse the Hoff with facts!” Hasselhoff bellowed, stumbling, pointing at Ziering. “Get down here, you snot nosed brat, and let’s settle this once and for all!” At this point, real reporters were quietly getting out of the way.

“Could we get some security in here?” Ferrante called.

“David, now we’ve talked about this,” Latt said in a reasonable tone. “There’s a restraining order out against you, and you’re not allowed to come out and antagonize our cast like this. Please step out before this becomes difficult.”

Ziering got up out of his chair. “I’ve kicked your ass every time you’ve started a fight, old man, remember? Or has the booze destroyed what’s left of your memory like it has your reputation?”

Hasselhoff glared. “Nobody talks to the Hoff like that!” He threw the vodka bottle at the stage. It missed by far, hitting the back wall, smashing into pieces. His expression of rage turned to shock. “Oh, no! My precious vodka!” For a moment he didn’t move, caught up in his own despair. Then he looked at Ziering again. “You made the Hoff do that! I’m going to kill you, you punk!”

The two charged at each other, Ziering throwing himself off the stage, Hasselhoff meeting him halfway. The actors started hitting each other, knocking into reporters, using chairs to smash into each other as the press conference turned into a melee. It ended with Hasselhoff on the floor, bearing more fresh cuts than the victorious Ziering, screaming over and over again, “He broke my beautiful face!”

As the groaning and whiny Hasselhoff was taken away by paramedics, Latt and Ferrante were apologetic to reporters. “We’ll make sure he never gets near one of our press conferences again. We’ll try to do better,” Ferrante vowed.

Latt nodded. “And when it comes time for Sharknado Ten: This Time We Really Mean It’s The Last One, hopefully by then Hasselhoff will either have choked on a combination of vomit, cheeseburgers, and beer… or he’ll have sobered up and changed his ways. I expect it’ll be the former.”

Ferrante looked at his fellow producer. “David, ixnay on the Sharknado Tenay.”

Latt looked back at him, confused. “Wait… did I say Sharknado Ten out loud?”

Internet Scammers Of The World, Unite

Despite it all, they never do give up. The spammers and the scammers. I can guarantee you that they'll try to spam this very post, as they have tried doing the same to other spam and scam posts I've done. You tell them to drop dead, but they can't take a hint. You suggest that they take a long walk off a short pier, and they don't get it. You encourage them to throw themselves off a bridge, but will they do it? Of course not. The spammers and scammers just keep at it. Such was the case with the following email, which turned up in my junk mail some days back. The return email address, mind you, didn't match the one that was contained in the message itself...

Dear Beloved Friend in the Lord,

It is my pleasure to contact you, l know this letter might meet you as a surprise but l want you to read through my kind email and hear me well. My name is Mrs. Elizabeth Anna Johnson from Germany. l was married to Dr. Abelerd Johnson who worked with our Embassy here in South Africa for a period of eight (8) years before he died in an Auto crash.

I am a 59 years old woman suffering from a long time cancer of the breast, Due to my deteriorating health condition which most doctors have confirmed I will not survive no matter what. I have decided to Willingly Donate the sum of USD$5,600,000:00 (Five Million, Six hundred thousand Dollars) to charity and individual through you for the good work of the lord, and to help the motherless, less privileged and also for the assistance of the widows. I want you to note that this fund is lodged in a bank here in South Africa.

I am therefore reaching out to you, soliciting that you accept this donation from me on behalf of the less privileged ones in our society and use the money to set up charity organization and to take care of the abandoned widows who needs help for survival. This appeal is meant for one with a deep sense of responsibility and commitment to serving humanity. I humbly seek your assistance to receive these funds and use it for the intended purposes.

Please get back to me at my email address at (elizjohnson34@yahoo.com)

Love and blessings

Yours faithfully,

Mrs. Elizabeth Anna Johnson

Ah, where do we begin? Perhaps with the possibility that Mrs Elizabeth Anna Johnson has probably sent the same crap to me before. It's that Dear Beloved Friend In The Lord line to open up things that feels familiar. Too familiar. I mean honestly, I'm not your friend. I'm not dear, and I'm not beloved. And how do you know I'm not a follower of the ways of Loki? 

She identifies herself as Mrs. Elizabeth Anna Johnson of Germany. Oh, yes, of course, because when I think German names, the first one that comes to mind is Johnson. She claims to be married to a Dr. Abelerd Johnson (what kind of name is Abelerd?) who worked at their "Embassy here in South Africa for a period of eight (8) years before he died in an Auto crash".  The capital letters are a giveaway nod to the usual tactics of the scammers, who can't write this kind of nonsense without making mistakes. And it's kind of beside the point to add the number when you've already written it out right beforehand.

As if the totally fake story about the totally fake hubby with the totally fake name dying in the totally fake crash isn't sad enough, she claims to be suffering from "a long time cancer of the breast". Oh, sure. Right. Because writing "suffering from breast cancer" is far more complicated. She tells me that she's decided to "Willingly Donate the sum of USD$5,600,00:00", again writing it twice in numbers and letters, "for the good work of the lord, and to help the motherless, less privileged, and also for the assistance of the widows."  She tells me that this is "meant for one with a deep sense of responsibility and commitment to serving humanity."

And precisely why did you bring this to my attention? Because I'm not the sort of person who has much of a "sense of responsibility and commitment to serving humanity." I'm just saying that.

But by all means, let's just say that your little sob story is true (it's not). First, how do people working in embassies amass millions of dollars in secret funds that they want to hand over to strangers to "receive these funds and use it for the intended purposes"? They don't. Government work doesn't pay that well.

Second- okay, let's say I'm dumb enough to buy your con (I'm not). What's to keep you, the dying of cancer widow Johnson, from holding me accountable regarding what I do with that totally fake five point six million bucks? What's to stop me from putting that money to good use in my bank account instead of to the totally fake motherless and the totally fake widows of your totally fake story? Aside from the totally fake ghosts of the totally fake German Johnsons who totally haven't actually died yet?

Nice try, Mrs. Johnson. Too bad we can't alter your totally fake story in a more satisfactory way. Such as you and your totally fake husband getting totally eaten by totally real sharks.

Darth Vader Just Wants To Give You Hugs

I have an image blog today. Enjoy!