I have an antique weather barometer. It sits up on the TV entertainment center, right behind my pet rocks, Seymour and Element.
Well, Seymour, it predicts a change in the weather with steady accuracy, 24-36 hours ahead of the change.
And when, Seymour, did you last predict snow fall accurately...like say, Monday night's surprise storm back in early December?
After the drought over much of the country during the spring, summer and autumn of '12, there's a bit more than passing interest in the long range weather forecast for the winter of 2012-2013. The online Farmer's Almanac hints at normal temperatures and snowfall for Colorado's Front Range, and above average snowfall for the mountains.
I dropped in on a couple of other online weather prediction sites, to see if they agreed with the un-free versions being touted by the almanac.
From what I gathered in El Ninoese, a negative El Nino is setting up. Perhaps someone at the Weather Channel can schedule a bit of psychological cheering up for El Nino, so to provide for a more positive outlook.
I also found this map on another site, but I suspect that this map is either of weather phenoms gone by, or another cousin of El Nino's needing even more psychological help:
I'm a bit surprised that the Weather Channel's graphics department got away with that one, but eh...sometimes, it fits.
Let's face it: snow driving and ice, even when prepared for it, holds all kinds of hazards for those who venture out in it:
At any rate, while several differing sources seem to think that the snow and temperature forecast for Colorado in 2012-2013 looks normal (temperatures) and average to above (snowfall), I found an amazing amount of credibility with this particular predictive map for the coming season:
Even Seymour couldn't argue with this one....bottom line for wherever you are: if it's cold, snowing, blowing and absolutely miserable outside, you'll know you've found it:
Uh...that was supposed to be representative of hot chocolate...but I guess from my kitchen, this is more likely...
I'd almost forgotten about this. It came up in Season 3, the last episode of South Park, as the four hooligans (Cartman, Stan, Kyle and Kenny) tried to find and insert the infamous 'brown note' into a world-wide recorder concert.
In 2008, activist and radical organizations planning to protest at the DNC in Denver (a pathetic effort to "Recreate '68") demanded to know from the Denver Police Department if they had and planned to deploy a 'brown note crowd disperser'.
From what I have read, the 'brown note' is a myth, and a heretofore as well as afterfore discredited theory. It's referred to as metonymy, and is alleged to be a note played at a infrasonic frequency between 5 and 9 Hz (disambiguation). If it worked as reputed -- and so far, it hasn't -- to be exposed to it causes one to lose control of their bowels to this particular resonance.
Personally, I thought "The View" was the closest thing to the brown note in existence. But it's only two of the bowels on that show that lose control, and it's usually because of their own abject idiocy.
Anyway...I received a scam email that suddenly reminded me of 'the brown note'. You may read of it yourself:
The Christmas holiday is rapidly approaching – assuming the Mayans don’t louse it up – so I decided to combine the generosity of the Christmas spirit of giving, with the aforementioned episode of South Park. The resulting email incorporating ‘the brown note’ was not a thing of beauty, but then it’s from a scammer and back to a host of scammers...in this case, beauty is singularly subjective in the eyes of the editor (aka, me):
I write to inform you that we are interested in finding out if you would be interested in a revolutionary breakthrough that we have recently made here in Ghana, regarding Hz (disambiguation) frequency resonance research.
Through selective audio resonance projection over secretly and strategically placed sound speakers, we recently replicated the up-until-then "brown note" -- at a subaudio level of 6.9 Hz -- that caused an entire public assembly of Ghana wildebeest herders to lose control of their bowels due to the specific subaudio frequencied resonance.
Until now, research into effective demonstrations of metonymy had been limited to one episode of South Park. Not any more.
And as the holiday gift-giving season approaches, that answer, formula and power can be yours. And at what we consider to be a reasonable cost.
Think of the hours of joy your gift recipients can have, replicating the 'brown note' at events and with people who they KNOW to be full of sh**. Now, the fact that they are full of sh** can be concealed no more.
Our operators are standing by their email to take your orders for our "Brown Note Resonating Replicator by Bonco". Email us at gov.bid@aol.com
I thought that Mr. Marcus Jonas would not only be thrilled to find himself elevated to the position of "Doctor", but that I had provided him with a notion by which he could make money off of other scammers.
So in answer to my title question, I reckon it won't. Too bad, too: never in the world of human events have so many needed to be emptied of sh** as scammers. Well okay, democrats too.
Perhaps the idea went over poorly because, to paraphrase a famous ad says, "Got Paper?". And they're still using tree bark over there...
Instead of heeding the pending Mayan calendar apocalypse (aka, Al Capone's Vault revisited), they chose instead to wade into a seasonal controversy that academics feel it necessary to weigh in on again...and again...and again.
And what is it this time? The story of Santa Claus, flying reindeer, and how it all probably began with hallucinagery mushrooms.
My pet rock, Seymour, took offense at this notion. I mean, this is a pet rock that's been around longer than all of us, and has been stoned the whole time. So if anyone should know this subject, it's Seymour.
Seymour decided to don his professorial hat -- one I didn't know he had -- and delve into correcting a story from Yahoo News about how Santa and flying reindeer are the result of hallucinagens. With no further adoodoo:
This Christmas, like many before it and many yet to come, the story of Santa and his flying reindeer will be analyzed, argued, bebunked, reinforced, and more than a few food fights will erupt in chambers of Christmas parties. And it’s all over the same silly argument every friggin’ year by the same silly arguers: over how the "jolly old elf" flies on his sleigh throughout the entire world in one night, giving gifts to all the good children.
Now, experts in the study of "perceptional hallucinagenics and endorphic quantum guessnics" are claiming that the real story of Santa and his flying reindeer are the result of one thing and one thing only: hallucinogenic or "magic" mushrooms.
"I mean wowzers, dude, Santa is like, you know, a counterpart of Cheech ‘n Chong, man" said Johan Sebastian Ripshiz, an anthropological scat tracer at Sayonara Correge in Toredo, Ohio.
According to the theory that Ripshiz rushed to conjour up in time to meet our publishing deadline, the legend of Santa derives from psychotic mushroom men who smoked the banana and saw the devil bunnies that would later surface in a Bloom County cartoon on the subject, wherein drunken eskimos dropped into locals' teepeelike homes with a bag full of frozen kimchi and passed it off as frozen fart patties in late December.
"As the story goes up in smoke, up until a few hundred years ago these antics were only curtailed by wandering polar bears who were not impressed with having their scat misrepresented in this way
But that's just the beginning of the symbolic connections between the Antarcticus Scatologicus mushroom and how all this came to be laid upon a fat guy in a red suit, according to several notedly bored archivians of the Benedictine Bar and Grill, or people who study the influence that how a jolly old soul in a red suit and smoking mushrooms can become a real fungi in a party setting.
Of course, not all scientists agree that the Santa story is tied to tax revenues, free phones and an inexplicable surplus of pork rinds in Detroit.
In his book "Why A Horse Has A Long Face and 3,000 Other Bad Bar Jokes" (The Book Apocalypse, 2009) the author U. R. Phulovit points out that Amanita muscaria, also known as fly make up, can be purchased wherever Maybelline has stockpiled the crap. This partially explains the practice of why flies fly into windows instead of avoiding them; "they're putting on makeup and not paying attention to where they're flying", Phulovit said.
"When one considers all the variables in nature, including those as-yet unrevealed anomalies that await us as we journey into the space between spaces, one thinks it's ridiculous to see a reindeer fly, but it isn’t" said Rarl Duck, a professor of Interdimensional Astronomical Obstrusics at Lawrence Livernomore Propulsion Laboratories. "Go in the woods and you’re set upon by a sh**load of biting deer flies. So why not reindeer flies in reindeer environs? Believe me, flies aren’t choosy about the sh** they eat, bite, whatever" Duck mused. "Amongst the medicinal pot dispenserers, you have an animal spirit you can journey with on just about any trip. What KIND of animal is up to the respective tripper. Some go with flying lizards, monkeys, tap dancing manatees...others prefer to attach their hallucinations to Bambi".
There is little debate about the consumption of mushrooms by the staff of MSNBC led to Chris Matthews turning abjectly stupid. But that’s "non sequitur to this post" as Duck put it.
Many of the modern details of the modern-day American Santa Claus come from a mistranslation of "War And Peace", which when discovered resulted in 40 days of elf protests and violence in Antarctica. Which no one understands, because all the hallucinagenic sh** goes on at the North Pole.
After a night clubbing, Harvard law professor E. Meritless Schmuck drunkenly postulated for his intern, Merry Wasntcontrary, that the Norse god Thor (known in German as "Das Biggen Vorken Mitte Hammer Thingen") flew in a Flexible Flyer drawn by two goats – Hans undt Gretl – which have been replaced after a lengthy strike by non-union reindeer.
Duck points to Rudolf as an example of how Schmuck’s intern made the most of his overindulgence of holiday spirit and body painted his unconscious form like a reindeer with a red nose, which she playfully dubbed Rudolph, and then sent a video to YouTube and local news 9 Wants To Know, of him trying to leap from the roof of her house when her husband came home. He landed on the roof of the next door neighbors, the Schmitts, and from there "one can see where THAT escapade was headed in university lore."
Other historians were unaware of a connection between Bill Clinton, hallucinagenic mushrooms, and the results of the 2012 Miss Universe Competition. Someone at MSNBC tried to blame it on Bush, but a low-flying pelican waylaid the reporter on his way back from substance abuse treatment for sniffing toilet seats, and he suffered amnesia that so far has spread to Hillary, so his story missed deadline and even Rachel Madcow couldn’t blame it on Bush.
Finally, our picked historian to settle this matter once and for all – professor Seymour PetRock, Emeritus Valediptorian Schlock of Geothermal Atmospherics for the National Weather Service, when or if they find out about it – told a source at Spencers that the theory of a mushroom-Santa connection is cockaspew.
"How can reindeer fly? I’ll tell you how reindeer can fly: TACOS. A SH**LOAD of TACOS". Professor PetRock contends that once fueled and ignited, Santa’s journey around the planet, making deliveries within a 25 hour time frame, is "a piece of cake, albeit a rather gnarly one".
"If you look at the evidence of Siberian shamanism, hallucinagenics and all that other crap, you’ll decide that a lot of scientists, historians and other academics have too much time and access to meth on their hands" PetRock said.
"People who know about meth use in the lamestream media accept this story," Duck retorted. "Is there any other reason that Santa lives in the North Pole?"
How could I not start perhaps my last ever blog post, without first remembering another tragedy of 2012?
If you ordered Christmas gifts, I hope you did like I dun, and had 'em delivered early. That's the old Boy Scout "Always be prepared" in me.
Yep. In the past few years, we've weathered bible code predictions of a planet-ending asteroid; three mathematically 'perfect' Rapture predictions that worked out as well as congressional budgeting; and a renewal of Dancing With The Stars.
The Mayan Calendar runs out in a few days. Well, according to some interpretations. According to others, it doesn't run out until sometime in the spring of 2013.
Rather than ponder what the 'end' might be like in a few days -- or what it might be like to be one of those who prepares for 'the end', only to find they gotta go to work the next day -- I am pondering just what kind of characters the Mayans who created this particular calendar were like.
Not that I'd mind skipping filling out tax forms for 2012, with a hi-ho hearty "PHFFFFFFT" to the IRS.
No, if I go with my gut -- and I have no choice, it's attached and is usually in front of me wherever I go these days -- there's gonna be a December 22. 23. 24.
Back in '08, a Muhamed Bello was attempting to scam me with the usual overseas inheritance fund nonsense.
As in previous scambaits, I was playing the role of Jerome "Curly" Howard, aka Curly of the Three Stooges. The real Curly died in 1952, and I was playing him from his home since then, a cemetery in Los Angeles.
The tactic had freaked out a couple other scammers who were none to amused to find that they were communicating with the 'dead'.
Anyway, Bello had just finished telling my character what was needed to proceed, and "Curly" had just responded back with his residential address (the street address and phone number to the cemetery), and there the matter rested, late in 2008.
Thanks for your kindness to me towards this transaction, I want you to assure me of your capability of handling this transfer with trust by giving me the following information about yourself:
5.Your direct phone number 6)Your passport photo so that it can help me to locate you when the fund will be transfer into your account you are going to provide to the bank.
7)Are you assuring me that you will not sit on this fund when it hits into the account that you are going to provide to the bank???
I know that you will not disappoint me when this money enters your account, I have all my hope of life survival with my family in this transaction. We must hurry up with this transaction so that our bank and the government shall not claim and inherit this money because it has over-stayed.
After the bank have approve your application as next of kin to our late customer I will fly down your country for investment with my own share but I will advise you to keep this transaction as a top secret because no body again knows about it except you and I.
Dear Jerome Curly Howard,I am happy to inform you about my success in getting that fund Now transferred.
I thank you for your great effort to our unfinished transfer of fund into your account that time due to one reason or the other best known to you. But I want to inform you that I have successfully transferred the fund into my new partner's account in Vietnam, who was eventually, capable of assisting me in this great venture. Due to your effort, sincerity, courage and trust worthiness you showed during the course of the transaction. I am compensating you and show my gratitude to you with the sum of $500 000.00 dollars. Now contact MONEY GRAM AGENT IN BURKINA FASO, contact person is Dr.Williams Ahmed ask him to send you the total sum of $500,000.00 which I deposited in an account in with United Bank Of Africa (UBA) for your compensation for all the past efforts and attempts to assist me in this matter. I appreciated your efforts at that time very much. so feel free and get in touched with him and pick up the total sum of $500.000.00 to send the amount to you.
Please, contact Dr.Williams Ahmed, to issue you the payment information text question and answer so that you can pick up the amount below email is his email address (moneygram-wire@live.com) forward him your Telephone number and address so that he will be sure
Whether it is the same scammer writing four years later, trying to re-ignite an old scam, or another one making use of internet café sharing, I don’t know or care; I just decide to introduce the new entrant here – Dr. Williams Ahmed – to a dose of email editing, as my character from four years ago would have perhaps wanted it:
I am happy to inform you about my success in getting that fund Now transferred. Yeah, I know..it took me four f**king years to get it done. What the f**k, dude...I'm an uneducated doof mugu from a Third World country, okay?
I thank you for your great effort to our unfinished transfer of fund into your account that time due to one reason or the other best known to you. But I just learned by way of internet search that you are dead, and have been since 1952. This cause me great curiosity as to how you contact me four years ago, if this is so.
Of course, with technology like it is, having a WIFI retrofitted into your crypt is quite doable and affordable now, I must have to think this so. But...how do you type, if after 60 years, you weared your fingers to the bone?
Again, this is the most of curious to me, as I am sure it would be to you if you can answer this email four years later than when I last had speaks with you. Am I making the sense here? Good. Now, to business.
I want to inform you that I have successfully transferred the fund into my new partner's account in Vietnam; he's dead too, like you, though he bought it during a B-52 concert because he dove for cover and hit his head on one of the group's cast iron nut cup. So now you both are dead, and I feel a bit strange about this business, yes?
Now contact MONEY GRAM AGENT IN BURKINA FASO, contact person is Dr.Williams Ahmed ask him to send you the total sum of $500,000.00 which I deposited in an account in with United Bank Of Africa (UBA) for your compensation for all the past efforts and attempts to assist me in this matter. It would be best if you don't tell Dr. Williams Ahmed that you're dead; he's very superstitious, and might have a Tanzanian Rectal Cramp suddenly stricken him, which would make three of you in this deal dead, making me the only survivor. Maybe I could win next season's Survivor show, yes?
Please, contact Dr.Williams Ahmed, but do NOT tell him that you are dead okay? He wets himself easily, and a Tanzanian Rectal Cramp would surely do him in. Here is his email address (moneygram-wire@live.com) forward him your Telephone number and address so that he will be sure Regard,
Dr. Williams Ahmed...you have made a terrible mistake: you have denied an actual astral bridging from the Third Astral Plane, to your Earthly level. You have denigrated the dead. You have blasphemized the afterlife.
It is written...so shall it be, as the voodoo that we do so well is now a shadow to your every step, your every breath, your every last thought, action, deed. To you and yours, hereafter.　
Perhaps one day, in another four years or so, Muhamed Bello will let me know if Dr. Williams Ahmed actually wet himself or not....
I recently saw the question posed on Ask!, and one respondent's answer astonished me: she claimed to be a lifelong resident of Denver and "I've never seen a seagull here in all my years. I think you have the wrong species in mind".
Apparently this lifelong Denver resident has never visited a lake, pond, river, golf course or grocery store parking lot in the Denver area.
Yes...Denver has seagulls. They look like seagulls. They fly like seagulls. They make noises like seagulls (kind of like a flying elk during rut, without the risk of a really gnarly elk-sized dump from above). And they scavenge like seagulls.
Seagulls are opportunists. Some, even now, may be working for the government, looking in on 'citizens of interest'.
Others, thoroughly accustomed to close association with humans, have picked up distinctly dubious human behaviors, like using steroids:
Seagulls in Denver -- adapted to Man's ways, means, garbage, steroids and without fear -- can not be taken lightly:
Worse...they're starting to teach other avian species ways to get back at all those spotless clean windows:
It's time to control seagull immigration to Denver. And while we're at it, restrict platypus from learning how to fly...
Perusing the online headlines after work, I came across a research story from Live Science.com, that suggested that the dinosaurs were NOT wiped out by a giant meteor, 65 million years ago.
Actually, scientists think they've found the REAL reason that dinosaurs are extinct. And they spent years and probably millions on the study.
A hint that Seymour expands on, as he 'edits' a scientific study, to make it historically accurate. Don your reading specs, and prepare to be illuminated:
SAN FRIEDCRISCO — Catacylismic dinosaur flatulence, not an asteroid, may have killed the dinosaurs, according to a new study that someone got paid to work up in exchange of stimulus funds.
Tens of thousands of years of methanic expellance from veggie-eating dinosaurs may have spewed poisonous levels of methane, sulfur and carbon dioxide into the atmosphere and caused the mass extinction through the resulting global warming and ocean smelling like an outhouse, the research suggests.
"AlGore insists that cavemen did it, but Al Gore freebases bat urine", conceded an acquaintance of the former veep and current-day moron.
The findings, presented Wednesday (Dec. 5) here at the anal meetings of Methanephysical & Pull Our Finger Research Institute – see what we just did there? – are the latest volley in an ongoing debate over whether an asteroid, volcanism, Black Friday stampede at a Walmart or flatulence killed off the dinosaurs about 65 million years ago in the mass die-off formerly known as the K-T extinction.
"Our new information demands a serious ‘WTF’ over what really caused the K-T mass extinction," said Regerta Tation, a genealogist at Prancedom University who conducted the heavily-edited study.
For several years, Tation has argued that growing and catacylsmic flatulence activity killed the dinosaurs.
But proponents of the alternative Hyplatypus hypotenuse argue that a giant taco and egg plant buffet feast at Chicxulub, Mexico, around 65 million years ago unleased toxic amounts of gas into the atmosphere, laying waste everything not equipped with a clothespin or gas mask, choking the dinosaurs and poisoning sea life. The apocalyptic ‘fart’ may also have set off volcanic activity, earthquakes, tsunamis and 20 ounce sodas.
The new research "really demonstrates that we have a crapload of people with too much time and meth on their hands, and that may contribute partially or totally to this latest effort to knock the Kardashians off the front page," said Erica Flaunt, a geologist-turned-reproductive vaginalist at the University of Lisbon in Newark, who was thankfully not involved in the research.
In 2009, oil companies drilling off the Eastern coast of India uncovered eons-old lava-filled sacred cows buried nearly 2 miles (3.3 kilometers) below the ocean surface.
Tation and her substance abuse counselors got permission to analyze the cows, finding they contained plentiful evidence from around the boundary between the Cretaceous-Tflatus periods, or K-T Boundary, when dinosaurs stopped having gas, and started a long process of becoming it.
The sacred cows bore layers of intolerant lactose that had traveled nearly 1,000 miles (1,603 km) from where particularly savage dinosaur farts had propelled them. Today, the region spans an area as big as France – and almost as flatulent – but was nearly the area of Europe before it was laid waste during what is known among researchers as The Great Pull My Claw Fart-Off.
Within the fossil flank steaks, cud species got fewer, smaller and maintained less elaborate methane defenses immediately after exposure, which would indicate it happened in years after The Great Pull My Claw Fart-Off. Most species catastrophically died off. In their wake, a hardy plankton genus with a small, nondescript exoskeleton, called Gawddangthatwuzgnarlyitis, exploded within the savage layers of bellowing methane. Tation’s team found similar trends in their analysis of the DNC, Congress, and Debbie Wasserman-Schultz’s congressional district.
While Gawddangthatwuzgnarlyitis species represented between 80 percent and 98 percent of the fossils, other species just flat disintegrated.
"We call it a megaflatulence disaster opportunist," Tation told Makin It Up As We Go Science. "It's like an onion fart — whenever things go bad, it will be the one that survives and thrives."
Gawddangthatwuzgnarlyitis may have come to dominance worldwide when the huge amounts of sulfur (in the form of cloud-bouncing fart ricochets released by The Great Pull My Claw Fart-Off) fell into the oceans. There, it would've chemically overwhelmed orcanymphopods, making for a species that no one can, to this day, draw.
Around the same time in India, sacred cows were learning to fart gregorian chant, before the apocalyptic cloud of dinosaur flatus overwhelmed them, saving the rhythmic chanting for later eras and species.
In past work, the team decided that asteroids, volcanoes, tsunamis, hurricanes, tornadoes, lions, tigers and bears were incapable of creating mass transit that would work in Detroit. Deciding that this was non sequitur to a salad bar at Applebees, the team decided on a re-enactment of their controversial theory, and they invited friends and family for an all-they-could-eat-salad-bar at a nearby Applebees.
The resulting en-enactment was all that the researchers could have hoped for in proving, at least to those among them who survived it: that rampant vegetation consumption by voracious dinosaurs generated incalculable build ups of methanic gastrointestinal pressures which, when unleashed, caused a chain reaction cataclysism the world has not known for 65 million years.
The now extinct Applebees used for the re-enactment -- and everything else within a lotta square miles -- is cited as proof positive that the K-T extinction was, in fact, the K-T PHFFFFFFFFFFFFFT, says Tation.
Editors -- professional and not -- usually feel unappreciated. Just ask writers who're being edited.
I should know. I find myself in the ununique position of being both a writer AND an editor. Not only do I have to edit the crap that I do...I have to edit a lot of crap from scammers.
It's a thankless job. Good thing I'm not getting paid for it. Well actually, I've been offered over a billion dollars by the scammers.
Forget the fact that not a penny of which was worth a penny, collectively. Bottom line here is, I am an unappreciated editor. And I'll prove it.
Recently I received a job offer from a Mr. Smith Jones, representing A-A Industries, located in Great Britain, and wanting me to be, in essence, an account receivables clerk for their US-based clients. I would receive 10% of the the client payments that I processed for A-A.
Mr. Jones' email was a bit skimpy and lacking in substantive details. So I allowed my 'writing eye' and my 'editing eye' to have a go at his email. The result, I think, was a crossing of those eyes:
Yes, you. We want you. We're talking to you. Stop looking around the room. It's you we're talking to.
I am Mr. Smith Jones the director of A-A INDUSTRIES LTD United Kingdom. Don't laugh at my name; it took my parents one helluva long time to come up with it. They were illiterate muslim pig farmers in Toledo when I was born.
Anyway, my parents had low expectations for me as I grew up. You see, I sat on the stoop all day, picking and eating my boogers. I found it satisfying. My parents found it disgusting that I wouldn't share. I told them to get their own. They didn't think that very nice.
Anyway...I grew up to be a researcher of the strange and inobvious. And occasionally, when I came upon an strange and inobvious idea, I acted upon it. One of which was the Booger Sautee 'n Fry Cooker by Islam-o, the maker of the Reuseable Suicide Vest by BLAM-O which didn't work, although the experimenters all went out with a bang.
At any rate, I decided to devote myself to genetic gerrymandering, specializing in cross-speciological breeding, to come up with creations never before seen, other than Roseanne Barr and Michael Moore. My first attempt was the cellular gerrymandering of a komodo dragon and a salamander. The first-ever Salamodo was borrowed by that Spielberg fella for Jurassic Park IV, and after it ate half the CGI crew, they shot it.
So I went for something that combined two things much less volatile, assuming that I could create a creature that would get me into the Guiness Book of World Records. It did – as the world’s biggest dumb ass. I think I should be honored, but I am not sure.
I genetically engineered the sub-atomic cell structure of a platypus, and crossed it with a Yugo hatch back. I am most satisfied to say that today, my company will soon be marketing to Iranouttagas the first ever of it's kind hybrid vehicle that subsists on wetlands weeds: the Yugopus by WTF-O. We are anticipating orders from all over the world, and thus we are in looking for a representative in your region that can help in marketing the Yugopus as well as receiving payment from our anticipated customers. Every Yugopus you sell and every payment received, you will be paid in Iraqi dinars that are currently going at the rate of 1156 for one USD. You'll get 10 dinars per Yugopus sold.
Now I want you to know that I put some time and effort into this edit. At least a half hour. That it is a half hour that I'll never get back is beside the point. The point is, I waste...er...worked on this for 30 minutes of my dubiously precious time. And what thanks did I get back from Mr. Smith Jones? Here's what he considered to be thanks for my hard work:
Dear sir: there seems to be a design flaw in your keyboard there. Are those the only letters you were provided with?
So there you have it: I am an unappreciated editor. Think of how unappreciated I'd be if I was gettin' paid for this sh**...
Like this lamestream media tantrum-thrower, I have the occasion to get something of the sort from the scammers that I mess with.
A scammer I screwed with earlier this summer -- Lukas Mukemva -- wasn't happy with what I did to his scammer letter back then, and let me know it (as you'll see shortly). My response, then and since, has been to keep sending copies of other edited email scam letters to his email box.
I mean, I thought he'd find kinship and comfort in that old addage about "misery loves company", right?
After months of relative silence from him, all of a sudden he’s tweaked about the edited emails I’ve been cc’ing him on. For the last three email rewrites I did that I included him in the cc, I got the following three in-order responses from him:
Do you get the feeling that Lukas Mukemva is less than pleased with my scam email editing? Well you should: back when I edited HIS email, he sent me this critique of my editing of his scam:
Well...ol’ Lukas got a miniature avalanche of edited emails after that response, which seemed to shut him up for the time being. I guess he got tired of seeing his peers and colleagues pilloried in edits, so I reckoned he needed a little attention back to himself.
So I took a theme from a recent scam email I’d edited (and copied him on), and made him the center of the email attention, twice. First came this one, sent to every scammer address I had that still works (about 200):
Dear recipients: Lukas Mukemva is unhappy. Yes, he is unhappy. And he needs notes of encouragement from YOU. See, a few months ago, Lukas decided that he wanted to change sex. He wanted to become a woman. But not just an ordinary woman...he wanted to be something extra peculiar. So he paid to have his penis replaced with a piranha vagina. It was a disaster...the piranha vagina ate everything genitilic that Lukas still had down there. Now he's not a she, he's an "it".
So write to Lukas Mukemva and offer 'it' condolences. Try to do it with a straight face. You can reach him on: lukasmukemva@yahoo.com
And after loading him up with several copies of that email – sent to as noted about 200 of his peers – I was provided with another opportunity, by way of a scam email that was forwarded to me by one of my blog readers, who’d gotten it in her email. The scam was allegedly from Janet Napolitano, head of Homeland Security, and it was for an ATM card that the recipient had to get by wiring money to....Nigeria ;-) Anyway, I edited it to make it appear Secretary Napolitano was on poor Lukas’ side in his plight:
Records show that Lukas Mukemva, being the abject dumbass and mugu that he's been lately, tried to have a piranha vagina implanted in his crotch, without first doing a little research. Now the piranha vagina ate EVERYTHING HE HAD DOWN THERE, and he's now an 'it'.
No, in my lofty position, it doesn't pay to make light of those who've suffered a terrible indignity, even when they did it so complete and stupidly to themselves. I mean, one day you might find that you need that person's stupid indignity to offset your own.
So I, as a lofty cabinet appointee here in the US, am taking up a collection for Lukas to get a new vagina, this time from something a little less volatile than a piranha vagina. If you can afford to contribute to the RESCUE LUKAS MUKEMVA FROM EUNUCHDOM Fund, please email Lukas at with your pledge. He’ll, I’m sure, tell you how to send it to him, once he figures out how to keep the piranha vagina from eating his asshole next. He needs that to put his head up.
One venue Lukas might use is via Western Union. Here is the contact and how to wire your donation: Receiver: Mr. Duru Kingsley Address: 12 shipping street City: Apapa State: Lagos Country: Nigeria Zip Code: 23401 Question: A piranha vagina Answer: Good God are you fucking kidding?
If you can stop laughing long enough to pledge to help Lukas, call this number soonest with your pledge and more details to help: +234-80-247-13-800 Please call this number in the middle of the night, Nigeria time, because our operators can't sleep anyway, when they think about Lukas and laugh themselves silly.
After receiving multiple copies of these two email edits, and having his name, alleged plight and email address shared with 200 of his peers and colleagues, Lukas became a bit misty-eyed and emotional, in what passes for him I reckon, to be touched appreciation:
And there will be more. Long as his email address continues to receive (he apparently isn't smart enough to know how to block me).
Yep, ol' Lukas is in the midst of throwing a scamtrum. He's far from the first to do so; he won't be the last ;-)