What a fucking disappointment. Correspondence with my pen-pals from Nigeria and Ghana — those dual douchebags Robert Scott Dewar and John Morgan from the British High Commission in Abuja, and Mr. Kwaku Boafoh Agyeman — have petered out. My dreams of Grolsch-filled swimming pools and Roman forays to hear Fleshgod Apocalypse in person have dried up like desert flowers in the summer heat.
In other words, none of those duplicitous motherfuckers has seen fit to answer my latest e-mails. Sadly, it appears there will be no Chapter 3 to the saga of NIGERIAN RICHES AWAIT. (If none of this makes any sense to you, read this.)
But all is not lost! I have received new messages — heart-rending messages — from two women (one from Mali and one from Burkina Faso) whose personal catastrophes may yet yield for me riches beyond the dreams of avarice. There is still hope for the eleemosynary institution I plan to establish for deserving metal bands. There is still hope for the beer pool and for having FA provide the live metallic accompaniment to my daily existence. There is still hope!
Read for yourselves, and weep, at the tragic stories I received, and the ways in which I may profit from tragedy, and I will also share with you my answers to these two women. (more dementia after the jump . . .)
From: KELLY IDRIS GRIFFIS <email@example.com>Date: October 16, 2010 1:24:34 PM PDTTo: undisclosed recipients: ;Subject: My dear,Thank God with me,Reply-To: firstname.lastname@example.org
My dear, Thank God with me,
How are you today, I hope you have not forgotten me, this is Kelly Idris Griffis, the woman with cancer of breast who decided to hand you over her Late husband money in the Bank to take care of the less-privileged, because i grew up an Orphan and don’t have anybody as my family member, which you accepted to do the charity work but later you stoped on the way because, I think i will died in the operation but I have taking first and second operation. My Guardian Angel Saved My Life Twice, i didn’t died. As I am writing you this mail, Aim in the Tokyo Japan, after I succeeded in cancer operation with the help of a Catholic priest after you backed off.
However, I considered because of the fact that i contacted you to do the work, So I droped a cheque of $450,000.00 US Dollars for you to help yourself. Now contact a Rev Father in Bamako Mali- his Name is Rev. Fr. John Ndugu on his e-mail address; below His email address is: ( email@example.com ) Please I don’t want you to feel bad i would have gone without telling you but I decided to compensate you. I will contact you in due time because I am now on holiday,
Kelly Idris Griffis
Dear Ms. Griffis,
Thank you for your interest in NO CLEAN SINGING! You are the first metalhead from Mali who has written us, and it’s awesome that you’re such a fan of brutal music. It’s also awesome that you “droped” me that check for $450,000.00 US Dollars! Because I really need that money now.
You see, I was counting on a pre-funded ATM card from the British High Commission in Nigeria and a big wad of cash plus a 100-pound bag of gold dust from Ghana because it seems I am the next of kin to a dude named Waterman who got obliterated with his whole family in a car crash.
I’ve already been working with a contractor on designs for a swimming pool and I’ve got a line on a couple thousand gallons of Grolsch beer to put in it, plus I wrote this kick-ass Italian band and offered to set them up for life if they would come live with me in Seattle and play music for me whenever I want. So I’m kinda in an embarrassing situation right now because those motherfuckers in Nigeria and Ghana have fucking disappeared and none of the money or the gold dust has arrived! So yeah, your message really came at the right time. It would really help me remain blessed.
There’s only one little problem — though I don’t want to make a big deal about it: I don’t have any fucking idea what you’re talking about. I forget shit all the time, okay? But I think I woulda remembered if I’d agreed to get $450,000 from you to do charity work, and I don’t think I would have “backed off” if there was that much cash in it for me. I think maybe you need to wean yourself from all the awesome painkillers the docs gave you after those two cancer operations.
But even though I think this is the first time you’ve written me, I’m absofuckinglutely down with getting those 4500 benjamins! Just tell that Catholic priest in Bamako to send the check to me right away, with no fucking around, like the fucking around that’s happened with the douchebags in Nigeria and Ghana, cuz I’m up to my ass in alligators now with all the financial commitments I’ve been making.
Just one last quick question: Since you don’t want me to feel bad (and I don’t want me to feel bad), I’m assuming it’s OK if I don’t spend all the $450,000 on charity work. I was thinking of spending about $200 on charity work instead. You’re cool with that, right?
Thanking God with you,
From: Sandra Luzy <firstname.lastname@example.org>Date: October 18, 2010 2:25:27 PM PDTTo: undisclosed recipients: ;Subject: i need your urgent respondReply-To: email@example.com
i need your urgent respond
please contact the bank through this email firstname.lastname@example.org
i am Mrs sandra.luzy and i have been surfering from ovarian cancer disease and the doctor says that i have just two days to leave. I am from (limerick) Ireland but base in Africa Burkina Faso since eight years ago as a business woman dealing with gold exportation.
Now that i am about to end the race like this,
without any family members and no child. I have 3 Million US DOLLARS in Africa Development Bank (ADB) Burkina Faso which i instructed the bank to give St Andrews Missionary Home in Burkina Faso.
But my mind is not at rest because i am writting this letter now through the help of my computer beside my sick bed. I also have 4.5Million US Dollars at Ecobank here in Burkina Faso and i instructed the bank to transfer the money to the first foreigner that will apply to the bank after i have gone that they should release the fund to him/her,
but you will assure me that you will take 50% of the money and give 50% to the offernage home in your country for my heart to rest. You ar to contact the bank through this email adress email@example.com
Yours true friend,
Dear Madam Luzy:
Holy shit! I think I may have really fucked up! Because you wrote me on October 18 and I didn’t check my fucking e-mail until October 21 and you may already be fucking dead! I’m just hoping that those Guardian Angels who pulled Ms. Griffis’s ass from the fire decided to give you a short reprieve from the Grim Reaper so that when you die (tomorrow would work good for my schedule), I can still be the first foreigner to apply for that 4.5 Million US Dollars.
Don’t get me wrong — it’s not like I’m looking forward to you ending your race. But on the other hand, we’ve all gotta go sometime, and “surfering from ovarian cancer” in a sick bed with only your computer to help you sounds like a raw fucking deal, and maybe it would be better to just get it over with, even though I’m not 100% sure what it means to surfer from ovarian cancer.
But, seriously, try to hang in there at least until tomorrow, okay? I’m kinda busy today and it would be a lot easier for me to apply to that bank tomorrow. Sound good?
Just one last quick question: Since you already gave 3 Million US Dollars to that St Andrews Missionary Home, requiring me to give 50% of my 4.5 Million US Dollars to an “offernage” sounds a little over the top in the charity department. Besides which, I don’t have any fucking clue what an “offernage” is.
Now, if “offernage” is an Irish or Burkina Faso word for “bars and strip clubs”, I could be okay with that 50-50 deal. But if it’s a word for a place where miserable orphans have to grow up, I’m thinking you’ve already done your good deed here at the end of your race with that $3,000,000 gift, and so I was thinking that I could give $200 to orphans and keep the rest to do good works for myself and my friends and lots of deserving metal bands. How’s that sound?
Get back to me ASAP because your race could end any minute! And just to avoid any misunderstandings when you’re gone, go ahead and have that bank just send me the money now, with no fucking around. Cool?
Hails and horns!
(No responses have yet been received from Ms. Griffis or Madam Luzy . . .)