Monday, December 31, 2007

End of year edition of steveshaikus

Well friends, it's that time
time to reminisce, to laugh
time to take a dump

Man, I cannot believe I had 4 months worth of stories to put down, much less the fact that although I had 4 months of stories I have not even begun to scrape the scum off of the depravity and outright lunacy my family entails. Well, that's it for the remembering, let's move on amigos!


So we moved from Smeagol's house, way, way back when, and were 2 fresh young souls, ready to enter the world with the riches we both acquired working at Burger King for 5 hours a day. We had gotten an apartment on 5th and Maple, which is one block East and one block North of Independence Avenue and the onramp to I-29. It was a fucking dump, made worse by the fact that when we moved in there was trash and what I pray to the gentle to this day was animal feces and not human in little piles all over the place. The apartment was a dump, our kitchen was absolutely filthy when we moved in, no roaches but I could hear rats scurrying throughout our tenure there.

Out the grungy back door was a balcony that leaned at an almost 20 degree angle toward nothing but 3 stories straight down. There were numerous boards missing and it creaked something awful when we walked across it, and when we asked the manager, who lived in a much more updated apartment next to ours, about it, she said it was designed that way for snow runoff. When we asked why when we moved in the refrigerator was blocking the door and why there was fucking moldy ass food in the fridge when we moved in she disappeared. Cunt.

Anyway, Our neighbors across the hall were some Haitian women, one of which was actually pretty hot, but we soon found out how they paid their rent, by hooking it to a growing number of gentlemen, who would accidentally rap on our door and try to fornicate with whomever answered, which was scary for my wife, and just plain awkward for me.

Anyway, things went on for awhile, the guys below us were Arab or Somalian or something, and would constantly hit on my lady when I was not around, and one of them even offered his sister to me in exchange for my girl, an offer I refused after a little thought, I mean she wore a burka, how could I be sure she wasn't ugly? And also as a secondary reason she was pregnant with my first kid, so there was that...

Anyway, on to the meat of this Story, Spiderman. My wife's brother, Wyatt Earp (I call him this, from now on WE, because he had a handlebar mustache and looked just like him) lived across from the Somalipimps with his exwife, her boyfriend, his 2 kids and her kid she had had with her boyfriend (I can see that no explanation on this living arrangement is needed, so I will move on), and one of their visitors was Blackjack Larry. Larry was my wife's other sister's boyfriend, and I call him BlackJack Larry because he was always dressed like a pirate, which was funny because he was also on crack and meth, much like real pirates were (give me 5 minutes to edit the Wikipedia page, then look it up). He was a real loser, always beating his woman, smoking crack, and generally being a complete douche. Anyway, soon after he found out we lived upstairs he came by, looking at our stuff with that look that can only mean one thing: He loved our feng shui! Well as it turns out there could be another way to interpret how he was looking at our things.

We came home a few days later to see that our house had been robbed. Hoe Dog McGee was busy "working" across the hall and had no idea what had gone on. I didn't bother asking the SOmalipimps, as they were still sore that I did not trade my wife so they could take turns running her through (since I only got a quick glimpse of their sister only once, I bet one of them dressed up as a chick), and her brother's brood had been out as well, doing whatever it is they do. We called the police.

Now, to some of you who have never lived in a shitty neighborhood, this is going to come as a shock. To others, this will not even turn your eyebrow, since someone is probably trying to break into your house as you read this, but when we called the dispatcher asked what the problem was. When we informed her that we had been robbed, she asked us if anyone had been shot. No, we replied, and then she asked if the robber was still in the house. Double negatory on that too. She then informed us that since it was not a priority that she would have some officers stop by "When they get a break from some more pressing issues". Nice.

3 hours pass, and 2 cops show up. We had not touched anything at all in the house, and there were plain fingerprints on our television. The thief had Scaled the goddamn building, climbing up balconies to the third floor to rob us. I shit you fucking not. Someone had Spiderman crawled up the front of our building, climbing from balcony to balcony, and gone in through our front balcony window to rob our house, bypassing the other 5 apartments he would have had to climb past to get to it. Hmmm.....who could that be? So we had prints, nothing disturbed except the television, which he had tried to move and decided to leave, with his prints all over it and in the dust on the top and back, all of my wife's coins and jewelry, even though hidden, taken with no other drawers opened, I mean this was an open and shut case, Johnson. We informed the officers of all this evidence, and that the guy who did it was a convicted felon (he was) and that we knew where he lived (we did). You will not believe this, they didn't give a flying rat's ass (which would actually be pretty cool to see), and told us to make sure we locked our front door better, as that is probably how he got in, stepping over the broken glass in front of the balcony door to get back out.

We never got our stuff back, and one of the items stolen was my Playstation, leaving me without entertainment. I turned the computer on, which had Diablo installed on it, and the rest, my friends, is history.

Friday, December 28, 2007

Musings, Idiocy, Rant time

OK it's snowing
yet you still try to peel out
Hope you die, moron

Musings -

OK so I noticed this blog is becoming more and more Smeagol and Scam laden... I have to post some of these other stories...

When I lived with Smeagol, we had a neighbor named Martin. Martin was a buttfucking packrat piece of dog shit. I say that with love in my heart and a skip in my step. We shared a driveway, and with Smeagol's constant flurry of shitty ass cars, it was a bit understandable that Martin was constantly moseying his smelly ass over to get us to clear the driveway. But then things got worse.

Martin was a Junk dealer. He would go to hospitals and get all the crap they throw out, like adjustable beds, toilet bowls, bedpans and other assorted Medical memorabilia and then sell them in his front yard in a continuous yard sale that started in March and ended around November. It always smelled like anus and vinyl because he rarely cleaned the shit and god knows what other kind of stains off of the items he sold, and he would always make sure the unlucky patron knew everything was "as-is, as-is now". To be nice, I bought an old 486 computer from him for 10 dollars, and, at that point not being in the least bit interested in computers, set it aside and did not really use it until Spiderman robbed my 3rd floor apartment (this is another story) and stole my Playstation, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Anyway, Martin got more and more driveway stingy, and would come over 5-10 minutes after we got home to tell us to "get out of his driveway" and then talk all this shit about how we are neighbors and we should get along a little better, but that we had to know since he lived in his house longer, technically it was his driveway. He would then park his beat up, shit smelling 197? pickup in the driveway and go inside his house for the night, causing us to either drive across our yard that Smeagol had tried to mow with a scythe like a Raptor Reaper, or wait until he felt like moving, which he did not do unless we weren't there.

Martin's brother was also a fucking loser who acted in much the same way, even blockading our cars until one of us loaned him 5 dollars so he could purchase more beer, and hitting the tree in our yard in one of his many drunk driving sessions. One night I heard him taking a shit in the window well on our house that led to the basement. I then saw the shit later and let the dog out to eat it, but she did not. It's probably still there.

Anyway, Martin also had a big ass Rottweiler that was too strong for the measly ass chain he kept over there. He kept this cousin of Cerberus in the backyard, with plenty of lead to make sure we could not access our back yard, which was fine at first because the only thing back there was an indoskeleton of a trans am Smeagol took no end in joy telling us he was going to restore but which ended up being rolled down the hill and to some homeboy's house. The Trans Am was a frame with the Wheels on it: no hood, no engine, no seats, no chance of being fixed by a 100 pound weakling who could not lift a milk jug without getting tired or asking for mover's assist (I exaggerate here, but really he did only carry in one jug of milk at a time, damn weakling). The fact that some idiot rolled it down the hill and got it away is a testament to man's ingenuity as well as his lack of intelligence.

Anyway, back to Martin. It was on a crisp autumn day that I had to leave to go to work, and Martin had parked his truck in the driveway, sideways so it was blocking not only entrance to the backyard or the latter half of the driveway, where my car was, but access to the stairs to our front porch. Fuck this, I was tired of it. I went over and knocked on his door, and he ignored me. I could see him through the little lace doily shit covering their door window sitting in a chair facing me watching television, making no move to get up. I knocked a little harder, all to no avail. Fuck it. I went and got a knife from inside the house, and slashed his tires. I then got into my car and backed down the driveway, across our back yard, through the rickety fence and onto the street. I was pissed. As I drove off, I saw Martin looking at what I had done and yelling at me, and I felt warm and fuzzy on the inside.

More on Martin later, including the standoff between him and JJ. Spoiler alert! JJ does not have any problems physically assaulting old men or people in wheelchairs.

Idiocy -

What the fuck is up with traffic? If there is a shitload of snow outside, and everyone is in 2 lanes because they have been beat down by snow plows or larger trucks or whatever, why would you drive in the drifts and then dart over in front of people and back out to go faster? Why is it that everyone else is driving 30 miles an hour, you go by @ 60 and end up in the ditch and wonder why no one stops to help you? Goddammit, why is it that there are signs announcing a detour, road blockade, etc and you wait until you are physically at the sign to dart over, causing a traffic jam on the highway? These have to be the same people who voted for Bush: "Well he fucked up for the last 4 years, but I think good things are around the corner so I will give him another 4 years to fix what he done brokeded in his first term, ahyuck! Hey There's a ton of fucking snow outside let's a-go driving around and cut the fucking Stevester off!"

Why does my family have to suck so much?! Smeagol hates everyone who does not wear a baggy green thong, JJ refuses to get a job though he is actually quite intelligent, but seems happy to waste life away living at my mom's house, my dad smoked crack up until like 3 months ago, my mom was a mystical retard until she stopped the rock pop dance, my uncle shits in plastic bags and hangs them from tree limbs like brown ornaments, My aunt hates white people, my grandmother hates black people, and my youngest son's fucking fist fits perfectly in my goddamn eye socket!

My neighbor across the street has no teeth even though he is only 30 and is as annoying as Smeagol's thong is green, people drive by and shout out "white power" at least once a month, Mr. Karawte man keeps coming up with ever more idiotic questions about some impending German invasion and wears overalls with the John Deere hat, and 3 of my scammer friends stopped writing me this week, citing my unwillingness to send them lots of money.

Ah well, at least the well of awesome stories to post has not dried up. I hate that fist int he eye shit though, damn thing hurts.

More Monday

Thursday, December 27, 2007

A short scam, and some Smeagol goodness

Dirty Limmericks?
Or musings of a poet?
hmmmm....nah, limmericks

Smeagol Never Stops

Not really a story, but I went by my parents' house, they seem to be doing a lot better, JJ informed me that Dad has finally learned to ignore the siren call of the crackpipe, and things are going well there... Mom has been off it for a while now, Dad about 2 months... I was happy for them, though a tad sad that the stories had ended, I mean I still have some but they are over...

But not for Smeagol!

Besides getting paid Friday, and then borrowing money on Saturday from my mom in order to purchase a gift for her because he did not want to take it out of his own check, and despite the fact that he promised my dad that he would bring by the main course for their Christmas dinner, a large ham (We should all by now see what is coming, how in the world would Smeagol be able to lift up a 20 pound ham), Smeagol decided to take her money yet again and not show up. No Merry Christmas, no nothing. What a piece of shit. I am going to start on the Smeagol and Angela stories this week, and hash up some more of my Dad and my Mystical Retard stuff too... good times.

Anyway, I thought I might post a few different scams this week, kind of jump around a little bit... let me know what you think.

Bishopston Trading Company (1)

So for this one it is one of those scams where they send you a job application and want you to cash these checks and then send them money on it... and keep 10% for commission. I forwarded this email from my real account and answered back that I really needed the job
because my ass hurt. Sounds simple enough, though I wonder how this scam really works, because:

1. What's to stop me from just cashing the check and keeping the money?
2. What's to stop me from cashing the check and making sure it goes through alright before sending them a dime (bag)?

Anyway, scammer = black, me = red, thoughts = blue

From: Semore Butts (
Sent: Tue 11/27/07 8:15 PM

I would like to take up a position in your company, as this reverse cowboy is very taxing on my sphincter. Tell me what you need to get this show on the road.

Hot Karl

Why would you email someone back after getting a request for employment like this? If this is what hiring managers want, count me in!

Attention Semore Butts‏
Sent: Fri 12/07/07 2:41 AM

Attention Semore Butts
From:Mr Greg Rhodes
Imp.& Exp.code: 1100710928487
UK5 Sandy Way,
London SE5 8UN,
United Kingdom

First, I must thank you for picking up the consideration to be our commission agent via which our costumers who are ready and willing to pay some of our outstanding bills can make payment through you to us.
Your role in this endeavor is to serve as our agent to get to our customers who has been indebted to us over a considerable length of time and help stand as an agent through which they will make such payments to us. But before we commence I will want you to understand this as you would be placed on commission. Your reward for helping us collect such an outstanding debt will be 10% of whatever money that is being paid to our Company through your account.

You will be given adequate coordinates and banking instructions through which you will remit our balance 90% from your Account to us upon receipt of payment from our customers. Our constraint has always been a method of payment by several of our foreign client who we supply our goods.We presently get our payment through checks equity line of credit credting of credit card or etrade account, issued in our favor by our clients but the problem of delay is usually experienced as we are made to wait for up to one month before our local banks here clear the checks/draft. We are loosing a lot of money by doing this as most of our money is produced as short term loan and overdraft from the banks with high interest rate.

Be inform that there is no financial obligation at your end and to avert unnecessary telephone bills at your end, you are advise to mail us and we will call you upon receipt of your mail. We want to let you know that your full names phone number/contact address will be forwarded to our clients/accounts department of the company for accreditations as the company foreign commission agent in your send to us the following details so we can send them to our client that are ready to make payment?

Mailing Address:
E-mail address:
Upon receipt of your reply, I shall inform you on the next step to take to proceed with this business. I am looking forward to hearing from you soon.
Mr Greg Rhodes
Chief Executive Officer
+44 704 574 8297+44 703 194 1862

Pretty standard, really... Who sends this kind of information out the first email, though? It seems incredibly stupid that anyone would do something like this... hmmmmmm.....

RE: Attention Semore Butts‏
From: Semore Butts (
Sent: Fri 12/07/07 3:55 PM

Mr. Rhodes I understand that I am on commission, I am glad that having a payment agent on hand is going to help with some of the problems that "checks equity line of credit credting of credit card or etrade account" can cause. I have answered your questions below, I hope you find them sufficient for employment in your company.

Can I have a free t-shirt with the company logo on it? If not I understand, I just figured I would help drum up business here in the United States. I would also like to express my amazement at the fact that you are the CEO of the company and also the hiring manager, it shows you really care about the people you hire.

Yours, Semore Butts

Name: Semore Butts
Mailing Address: 3715 Main Kansas City, Missouri 64111
AGE: 37
STATE/COUNTRY: Missouri, United States
Phone: 816-561-2600
FAX: 816-561-2602
E-mail address:

Yet again, I give the details to reach Buddies gay bar in Kansas City, and any moron who does a search for NAMBLA anything would come up with the North American Man Boy Love Association, and know I was giving fraudulent information... bunch of idiots... but it's funny, I actually get this guy to send a real live physical check to Buddies! stay tuned...

Friday, December 21, 2007

Butthole Chutney

I work in IT
Your tech issue is boring
So I ignore you

If I started a band, I would name it Butthole Chutney. It just sounds right.

So I am going to go see Smeagol this weekend, I might bring up the money but probably not, since every time you mention money and not giving him some but how he owes you Smeagol stops listening and I am a big purveyor of putting away squabbles for Christmas. I asked my wife if she would mind if everyone came by, since it would essentially be her cleaning up the most since I am a lazy fuck, and she said Smeagol could come up but he had to sit at the kids table and he could only eat off of disposable plates and cutlery... Which is funny because Smeagol usually sits at the kids table, he likes talking to them more than adults, which is probably an evolutionary thing, since raptors would want to associate with more easily killed prey.

So I can see from the way the voting is going that scams are not everyone's favorites, and I must admit the one I am posting right now is kind of boring, but I like posting them, so I think for now I will keep it up, but I will post them a little less often, and maybe only 1 email from the scammer and one from me.

Anyway, it was the next morning after we had helped Smeagol move all of his belongings in the dead of night, specifically coming over after 8PM to throw his completely unpacked house into the U-Haul, and driving it 2 blocks further south to his new home, which was right next door to what looked like the cast of Bone Thugs in Harmony, a group of less than clean cut gentlemen standing on their porch in all kinds of weather (I have almost never been by Smeagol's house and not seen them standing outside) drinking OE and Camo all day and all night, their car stereo blasting as opposed to a stereo inside the house, though (and this must be coincidence) they did start playing music inside the house about a week after Smeagol got robbed of his stereo and PS2...hmmmmm......

Anyway, we go into the basement and grab his shit encrusted washer and dryer, and notice his dog is dead, laying there, starved, foaming at the mouth, and though I should have felt sorry for it I did not, I was sure it was in a better place. I asked Smeagol as we moved his smelly shit into the truck what had happened, he said "I can't have dogs in my new house" and left it at that, though he would later say they had been poisoned by our asshole neighbor, Marvin (who was an asshole for many, many reasons which I will detail in further posts).

It is the next day, and we are moving things out of the truck, we being me, JJ, Hoody and Monica. Smeagol and Erica's friend, Tubbo (I swear she weighed 500 pounds if she weighed an ounce) had gone to the store to get a couple of sodas, and we were annoyed, not only because we stank from contact with Smeagol's thong smattered belongings, but because it was hot as fuck and he was doing just shy of jack shit to help.

I was standing in the truck, moving a sofa, talking about how he was not going to pay us and what a piece of shit he was, and none of us noticed he had returned. He was walking around the corner of the truck toward the back, and I know he heard me as I said, and I quote myself, "Well I sure hope I don't catch nothing touching all this crap, you all know he has herpes-" THen I saw him standing there, looking thoroughly embarrassed, and was instantly embarrassed myself, I tried to play it off by saying "Man this sofa is heavy" but the moment had already passed... AWKWARD!

Tubbo was a big girl. I don't call them big girls until they can tip the scales at around 300 pounds or so, up to that point they are "Thick", and that's just friggin hot. Which is funny when you think about the fact that my wife weighed maybe 110 when we met, but I digress... dammit I love junk in the trunk ya'll!

Anyway, Tubbo was huge, maybe 500-550 pounds, and she was as dumb as a post to boot. I tried to leave subtle hints that I was taken, and even if I wasn't I was not interested, by using contextual clues like "Hey Tubbo, I am taken, and even if I wasn't, which I am, I would not be with you for anything. Kill yourself", or just vomiting when she lifted her shirt to show me her tits, which she did once. Ugh *shudder*....

I remember one of the many times we went to bail Smeagol out of jail, because Tubbo went along as she had collected the money this time instead of Mystery. We were driving along, me, Mystical Retard and Tubbo, Mystical sitting on my side in the back seat to keep the car from tipping over, and Tubbo in front licking her lips and giving me what I hoped was an alluring look and not a hungry look... and we went downtown to bail Smeagol out.

Downtown Tubbo made it abundantly clear that she should not handle money or be let out into the light of day due not to her ugliness but to her stupidity. The bail bondsman came out and explained his racket to her thusly: "OK what is going to happen is Smeagol is in jail at Leeds, but we have to bail him out here and then go to Leeds and bail him out there as well. His bail is 1500 dollars total, you will need to pay me 300 dollars, which I will keep, and I will bail him out. He will then be required to go to court, and when he shows up I get all of the bail money back; you get nothing. DO you understand?"

Tubbo looked at him as if he was a weight loss program, completely not understanding. "So I give you the money..." she started, then trailed off. She did this at least 6 more times, thoroughly annoying me, but the bondsman was very patient in explaining and re-explaining the entire process to her, and telling her this is how he makes his money.

Finally, FINALLY she just hands him the money and informs us that she does not understand and never will, and I am about to shit my pants with happiness, and from all the fried potatoes I had eaten. We bail him out there, and follow the bondsman over to Leeds. There we go in and wait for him to bond Smeagol out. Tubbo is talking to my mother right in front of me about me and how good I look in my jeans, with a lot of those "mmm-mm-mmm!"s thrown in.... gross. My mom seems to be playing along, making me hate her because I know it is only because she hated my girlfriend because she is white and Tubbo is as dark as the 45 pounds of chocolate she must eat daily in order to satiate her voracious appetite. I would not make fun of someone's weight, but she was a total jerk once she finally got it into her head that I was not going to cheat on my girlfriend with her, so it's all good. I give my mother the death stare, which starts her on her fucking idiotic "You need to respeeeeeek meeeee" tangent, which I ignore. I try to not let Tubbo catch my gaze, and end up looking at the coke machine for about 25 minutes. The officer comes out, and tells us he needs to verify we have the right Smeagol. The picture he shows us is so funny I almost snot myself: It is Smeagol, looking like a sad, sad raptor, sitting on a bench with his arms and legs crossed.

So we bail the Smeags out, and we take him over by Jeff's house to drop my mom off, and Jeff comes running out, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Hey Smeagol, if I had known you were going to jail I would have given you my pocket pussy!" He then takes something that is small and rubber and make a sticky sound, and I turned so as not to actually see it, and Smeagol did his little groan thing and went back to sleep, Tubbo still trying to catch my gaze.

On the way to drop Smeagol off, Tubbo finally gets it and is angry with me for not stopping the car and pounding her butthole: "You think I'm fat or something? Cuz I tell you what there are plenty of mens who want all this, I was just tryin' ta do you a favor, ya gap toothed zit faced punk beeitch!" Wow, she is riding in MY car, stinking up MY upholstery, and she has the cajones to insult me? Drop off time!

Smeagol's pleading raptor eyes make me quiet myself, for the noble Stevester is no cockblock, and Tubbo is Erica's best friend. I drop her off, and then Smeagol, and head home to see if my pole will even stand up again from the perceived Axis assault Tubbo was insinuating. It was the first time I could not get it up, and will hopefully be the last (knock on wood)....

Scam time Monday, I ended another one so this should get interesting.

Thursday, December 20, 2007


Christmastime is here

and what did I get for you?

my dick in a box!

Smeagol and Erica - the Conclusion:

So Erica wrecked Smeagol's car, and he went back to driving the POS line from his regular dealer on Troost, dodging police because it was not legal, getting his car remotely shut off every other week because he never paid his bill on time because he spent all his money on Erica and her big head kid. "But Stevester, you have to spend money on a lady in order to get into her good graces and into her anus when she falls asleep" You might be saying. Let me tell you, my wife bailed me out of jail, and that's how we started going out ( I have a rule: if you bail me out of jail, I have to put out... yes there is the possibility of getting burned, but I think it's the right thing to do)...

Well live moved on for about 2 more weeks until Smeagol called me up sounding down, and I asked him what had happened. You see, Erica's husband was out of town on business for a couple of months, I am not sure what he did but he decided so she could attend school that she could stay in Kansas City and he would send her money as she needed. Why this translated to sexy time with a North American Smeagol is beyond me. Anyway, her husband had come back, so she abruptly left Smeagol, taking some of his stuff much like the gentlemen who humped Kareena every day did on their way out the door. Smeagol was sad, I am sure his thong drooped much like his face did. He gave her almost half of his next paycheck, but it was over and she probably used the money to buy lube so her husband could pound her while Smeagol sat in the living room, cold, hungry and alone, masturbating gently while listening to her being satisfied while both crying and growling with pleasure.

But you see, this was all for the best! Rather than get back with Mystery, who deperately wanted to be with him again, Smeagol then met and got together with Danielle, and the stories of their relationship are so much funnier, including:

She regularly beat him up

She made him sleep in his own basement

She let other dudes and chicks rock away on her while he was at work and in his dungeon

She gave away his crap

So you see, when one door closes another blows off the hinges! The next Smeagol saga will start soon, I need to bring you all up to date on some scams and some other stories, but don't you despair I will get them all to you, intrepid reader! Also, tomorrow, I will tell you about the "Herpes Incident" that actually involved me putting my foot in my mouth, I just remembered it but am too lazy to add it here...

Scam Time!

I know yesterday was not as funny as far as scams go, but I promise it gets better... I need to give you some background before I can get to the funnies.

Scammer = black, me = red, thoughts = blue

Barr, Ubanwa Philip‏
From: Barrister ubanwa Philip (
Sent: Thu 12/13/07 11:45 PM
To: Semore Butts (

Attn: Semore Hoffman Butts

I have received all the information I needed from you to work out these modalities as my client instructed me. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Margaret has ordered me to secure the change of ownership of the said funds in your name as the next of kin of her estate deposited with United Bank for Africa, in this case I want to let you know that Mrs. Margaret will stand in federal high court of Nigeria tomorrow to sign and WILL the change of ownership of the said funds $31.5m USD in your name before she will be traveling back to her home town, after the court I will forward to you the necessary documents you will need to contact the bank with,for the release of the said funds to your bank account.

Conclusively, I want to let you know that this projectis not a do or die affair as my client said and my client trusted you so much with faith because she told me that God directed her to you and she has a strong faith that you will not disappoint her at the end, I hope by now she have told you her experience in her marriage and her present health condition, is only Godthat is helping her after the death of her husband, she has the money but she don’t have happiness because of her condition and the way the late husbands familyis treating her because she don’t have any child of her own, please I expect a good work from you so that we can make her happy at least, she want the orphanageto bear her name Margaret Child Care Foundation Centre.

I will be waiting for your urgent reply.


Barr, Ubanwa Philip

I like the charity name he chose, but I want to add NAMBLA into it to make it awesome, we have to help these little boys! LOL

RE: Barr, Ubanwa Philip‏
From: Semore Butts (
Sent: Sun 12/16/07 2:59 PM
To: Barrister ubanwa Philip (

Dear Barrister Obiwan Philip (Kenobe)

Thank you for putting your trust in me, I would like to put something in you once this whole transaction is completed, have you ever tried Bukkake? It is a delicious drink I am told, I would love to have you and Ms. Kumasi over to sample some, Hot Karl makes the best Bukkake this side of the Mississippi, or so I'm told. I know you expect a good work from me, and I will not dissapoint. My customers expect good work from me, no teeth, and I never disappoint there either, I have a lot of repeat customers, Smeagol included. I have cleaned his thong of Failure many a time. I will contact you when the bank contacts me, and let you know what is going on.

Love, Semore Butts

PS - Seriously, would you and Margaret be able to make it to Kansas City? I would love to have you over and over....

This marks the first time I called this asshat Obiwan, and he falls for it. WHat a retard. I mean, even in the butthole of Africa someone somewhere would have heard of Star Wars.... but no. I get even farther into Jedi mode after this, you find more!

Barr, Ubanwa Philip(contact the UBA bank immediately)‏
From: Barrister ubanwa Philip (
Sent: Mon 12/17/07 3:15 AM
To: Semore Butts (

Hello Semore Butts,

I just returned from the federal high court for the issuance of the change of ownership in your name as we discussed and the documents has been notarized by the commissioner of oat and the court has mandated the bank to transfer the said fund to your bank account. However we had an unfortunate day because Mrs. Margaret Kumasi collapsed in the court this Morning while we were waiting for the commissioner of oath to sign the document and she was rushed to the hospital,you know how it is with the hospital protocols when it comes to matters like this. (WTF is he talking about? )

Please contact the Bank immediately with the power of attorney and the deposit certificate as attached to this email message along with a scanned copy of your Identification inform of International passport or driver’s license so that they will start processing the release of the estate immediately. The Bank contact is as follows; UNITED BANK FOR AFRICA,Contact person, Mr. RoyEmail, Please contact UBA bank immediately and follow up with the bank procedure and keep me posted. Mrs. Margaret paid for the power of attorney document today.

Regards, Barr, Ubanwa Philip

+2347031323926 (this has got to be a fake telephone number, or he got horrendous diahrrea and shit all over the keyboard and then just hit "send")

This is the deposit certificate. Revel in it's fakeness...
The power of attorney
My response has to be good, as we are getting closer and closer to "crunch time"... when he wants either the money or will cut his losses... I put a lot of thought into my response:

RE: Barr, Ubanwa Philip(contact the UBA bank immediately)‏
From: Semore Butts (
Sent: Mon 12/17/07 9:04 PM
To: Barrister ubanwa Philip (

Dear Obiwan Kenobe,
I have sent the message to the bank. I am going out to Alderon on a trade federation meeting, but should be back tomorrow morning. Please let me know if there is anything else you need me to do. My assistant, Hot Karl, will hang around and be available to call me if you need anything immediately. He said he might have a few requirements met on our end if we are to make this completely legal on our end. Please work with him and let me know if I can assist in any way. I have placed all of my trust in you. Gotta go, I need to make a Kessel run.
Help me Obiwan, you're my only hope
To be continued...

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Smeagol and Erica, and a scam

Listen to my poem
A bard, some tights, the lute? Nay
A storyteller

Smeagol and Erica, the saga continues

And so life went on, Smeagol informing us all the time that he got Erica to climax with his raptor tongue and claw of destruction, which when lotion is applied apparently becomes the Klaw of Klimax, and we pretty much had to stand there and take it, because Smeagol was happy, and we had not seen that for awhile, reminiscing right in front of us by sniffing his raptor claws, completely grossing everyone out.

"But Stevester, what about Mystery?" You might be asking, gently masturbating to an image in your mind of Smeagol lapping up some girl's love milk while wearing a green thong, a ball gag tangled up in his perm as he forces a dead raw fish to act as a condom.....or not. Sickos.

Well, Smeagol was meeting Mystery, his wife, at a pay by the hour motel down by the freeway, since with her looks and bad attitude and personality that can best be described as "wet clay", was strangely enough not swimming in dudes wanting to penetrate her at the time... Smeagol referred to her as his "bitch", and would only go see her when Erica was not ready or willing to put out. I have to say if they had both been decent looking I would have envied Smeagol, as in a twisted kind of way he was a "player"...

Anyway, on to the story: I told you before about Smeagol's nice new vehicle, an 01 or 02 Mountaineer (I am too lazy to try and remember which year, but if you are that detail oriented, kill yourself), and this was his pride and joy. It was big enough he could climb up in it and "catch a quick snooze" during his breaks, at red lights, on long stretches of highway, etc...

Well Erica was out driving it one day, and accidentally ran over a Hyundai that did not get out of the way fast enough, completely wrecking his car that he had made 4 payments on. Smeagols was crushed, then when someone moved the newspaper off of him, he was angry.

You or I would report it to the insurance company, get it totaled, and use the money to work with the dealer for alternate transportation, or something like that I dunno I have never wrecked a car. Not Smeags!

He moved out of his house to another one up the street with money he had scammed from Mystery, secure in the fact that no one would ever find him to get the money back for the wrecked car he simply quit making payments on. This would start the Smeagol Screening service, where Smeagol would tell us we had to call, let the phone ring twice, hang up, and then call back or he would not bother answering it. He also went back to parking up the street under cover of darkness and sneaking to his own house to avoid detection by the authorities.

More on this tomorrow.

Scam Time!

So when we last left the dear Margaret Kumasi, I asked her lawyer, the Barrister Ubanwa Philip (from here out known as Obiwan, as thats what I call him now) was trying to work his scam magic all over me, you listen friends! Of course, as usual, Scammer= black, me= red, thoughts = blue, Hot Karl = green

Barr, Ubanwa Philip‏
From: Barrister ubanwa Philip (
Sent: Wed 12/05/07 2:37 AM
To: Semore Butts (

Dear Semore Butts,

Thanks for the mail. for us to commence action immediately as the designated person from my client, I will appreciate that you send your personal information to me which I will use to ascertain the affidavit of claim with the letter of authorization from the high court, that will be sending to the bank,which will empower them to release the fund to you as the legitimate beneficiary of the fund.Below is required A scanned copy of your identification, Phone and fax number for easy communication As soon as I receive the above from you, the action will commence. Remain blessed and make sure my client is been Remembered in your prayers.


I do not respond fast enough, so Margaret tries to push me along:

RE: from margaret‏
From: Margaret Kumasi (
Sent: Tue 12/11/07 12:17 AM
To: Semore Butts (

Dearest Semore,

How are you and your family? hope all is well.Please realize that the hardest step in achieving anything is making a true commitment-a true Decision, I have not heared from you,what is going on between you and my arttorney barrister ubanwa philip and the bank? Am assuring you that this transaction is risk free and that you will never regret it, my dear Semore Bigus Butts I would desire that you follow my attorneysdirectives for a successful transfer of the fund. please I will not want to die leaving the fund in the bank while some people are out there suffering. As my health condition is deterioratingdaily, I plead that we keep praying to God until hedetermine of my condition one day. Please make sure you keep me posted with all your correspondence with my attorney and the bank.

Yours lovely

margaret kumasi.

Damn these people are pushy! I let them stew for awhile, and Obiwan gets more annoying:

From: Barrister ubanwa Philip (
Sent: Thu 12/13/07 1:20 AM
To: Semore Butts (

Attention: Semore Butts

I am still waiting for your repsonse to my last email dated, Thu, 6 Dec 2007 regarding the fund transfer to your bank account as you have discussed with my client Mrs Margaret Kumasi. However, I will want you to supply me your Full names, Address and valid phone number as soon as you receive this email so that i can call you to discuss this fund transfer before I go for the issuance of change of ownership documents which will enable the bank tranfer the said funds to your bank account for the charity project without any hitches. I await your prompt response.

Have a nice day,

Barr, Ubanwa Philip
Tel, +2347031323926

From: Semore Butts (
Sent: Thu 12/13/07 8:41 PM
To: Barrister ubanwa Philip (

SUre, here is my contact information:
Full Name: Semore Hoffman Butts
Address: 3715 Main Street, Kansas CIty, Missouri 64111
Phone number: You can reach me at 816-561-2600. Ask for Iam Ghey, that is the name of my receptionist. They should be able to get you to me that way...

I know, I know, I was tired, dammit.

More tomorrow, I just wanted to show that I am not as eager to go all gay... I was going to go until Hot Karl's first email, but it is almost a whole day away from this one, so I will post it tomorrow.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

.....For posterity


And the award for funniest news story fucking EVER:

On my own.....

Political life
Must be like smoking crack rocks
but without the guilt

How Stevester got his Groove back

So I had left my dad's apartment, the smell of crack rocks and idiocy dissipating the further I got from that dump. I was going to stay with my sister for a few days, and then see where I was. We cruised along in her 1983 Ford Fairmont, her telling me to not put my hand out the window because it would slow the car down (really, I am not joking) and almost hitting every pedestrian unlucky enough to be outside on that blustery day.

We get to what I will now affectionately call the butthole of Missouri, Holt. I am sure it is a lovely town now, but when I was there for what turned out to be about 3 days, it was a gas station, a field, and the tiny ass trailer my sister stayed in with her boyfriend, 2 annoying ass kids and a dog that took no greater joy than in pissing all over me and my clothes since I slept on the floor. Sadly enough it was better than living in the dump I was in, at least no one smoked crack rocks and I could go to sleep without securing my belongings before the fucking pawn fairy took them and rewarded me with a big bunch of nothing under my pillow or in the entertainment center.

I hate children. I am getting better with it but kids naturally seem to hate me and so instead of being grown up about it I hate them back. I'm not proud of it. Fuck it yeah I am. I like my own kids as long as they are quiet, asleep or at school, and I hate their friends with a passion, mostly because they are so dumb. Dammit now it's wild tangent time!

Tangent time, tangent time!
It's to-tal-ly irre-levant
but it's bitchin time that's we-ll spent!
Tangent time, tangent time is Heeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrre!

OK So my boys have a bunch of friends, and I try desperately to like them, but alas it is like treading water in a de-oxygenated pool with cinderblocks attached to my feet. I will explain:

Biff - This little asswipe whines more than my oldest, which is saying something. I have heard him cry because it is too windy, cry because his coat buttons get undone, cry when my 5 year old pushes him down, cry because a dog barked somewhere, and those are the ones I can readily find a reason for! This kid id almost 8, and I swear he cries as soon as he wakes up and doesn't stop until he falls asleep. He is always the first one to run up and hit someone when their back is turned, but when they hit him back will yell out "I'm telling your mommy!" and head up to tattle. I hate tattle tales, they friggin suck. My oldest is a whiner too, but I think it has more to do with hanging out with this kid than any other reason.

Champ - This kid is a walking Ritalin commercial. ADHD personified, he is always hyper and also about as dumb as a post, though sadly he has to battle the next couple of kids in this list for the coveted Dumbest kid in Ferrelview award. He is 7, talks like a baby, and will walk RIGHT FUCKING BY my kids up to my door to ask if they can come out and play. When I used to inform him they were outside, he would try to act all cute and start his goo goo ga ga shit and not leave. I soon learned that opening the door, looking at him and then slamming the door is better than engaging this little mongoloid in conversation, and I do so all the time. Fuck you don't judge, you would do the same thing.

Thad - Thad is the neighborhood bully and a future NRA member. His parents are both complete white trash, and they do nothing to raise him. He is also not allowed to come into contact with almost 80% of the kids, due to their parents threatening to ground them for being seen near him, mine included. He is a bully, and an asshole. He pissed all over my kid, hit them both in the head with bricks, branches, and stole their bikes only to throw them in the creek, he ran around busting windows out of vacant houses and trailers with rocks, he lays in the street at night (Ferrelview does not have streetlights) and dares you to run him over (and boy have I come close many times, though most of those was in broad daylight) he throws things at passing cars, my kid told me he made a jug of Koolaid and pissed in it and was trying to sell it to passing motorists for 25 cents a cup (I went and knocked his whole stand over for that), and a plethora of other things makes this kid bad news. These are not the worst kids in the neighborhood though, so you will understand when I tell you I hate kids. /end tangent

Anyway, I hate kids, so imagine the joy I experienced when my sister informed me that I would need to watch her two little assholes while she went to work every day. I am sure they hated me too, because I made them either sit or run in circles outside until they collapsed from exhaustion, and then I told them not to touch me or talk to me. This was not working, and when my mom asked if I would like to move back to the city with her, I was more than happy to go.

The last time I had been to my mother's apartment, she was on her own, and had a nice looking apartment in an up and coming neighborhood. Naw I'm kidding it was a converted crack motel off of 47th and troost. Anyway, her apartment was pretty nice, and always smelled like incense and she had cable and running water, so Smeagol was there a lot as well, as his wife had recently been taken from this earth and she had left his kids to her sister instead of him. He was not so bad then, he had a running car, more than half of his teeth, and Mystery was not yet allowed to ride in the front seat so we could more easily ignore her.

Things had changes, and not for the better... Mom had moved out of her apartment to be with some guy who by his very appearance seemed to be a giant douche: He had these blue tinted John Lennon sunglasses, he talked like a mystical retard, though I would not know what that was yet, he had long hair and a black guitar he informed me he had named "Nigger", which was funny in a I-oughta-stab-yo-honky-ass kind of way because he was also white, I think... he looked kind of native american or something or he was just always dirty... I never found out. His name was Jeff, and I was to learn how great of a man he was...

More on scams tomorrow, I have a vote for Lilian Ray, which is sadly probably going to come to a close, as they are getting tired of my stalling. Fuck em.

Monday, December 17, 2007

How I live my life

A fallen angel?
The willows whisper her name
Mystery, a child dies

Oldie but a goodie

I know I have sent this around once, but I want to get this down for posterity, but a few updates first:

1. Smeagol, completely oblivious to the fact that he just screwed her over, informed my mother that he was going to need about 30 dollars to make his car payment, the day after Smeagol and my mother got paid. I am not sure if it is motherly love or abject stupidity, but she gave it to him. WHen I asked, dumbfounded, why she even recognizes his presence, she started quoting something from the bible, triggering my Ignorance reflex, and the next 30 seconds I spent thinking about sports.

2. I am getting really good with these scams, and I have 4 that I have kept going for at least a month. I am going to update Margaret Kumasi, and tomorrow I will introduce you to one of the other three, let me know which one sounds more interesting:

Lilian Ray - This is a scammer who sent a bunch of pictures of a model or something, claiming to be this humble girl in a refugee camp looking for love, and once you fall for her, she is also looking for a foreign partner to accept her consignment her father left her. I am playing along, and Hot Karl has helped out on this one (Hot Karl is being played by the Tylester), we have thoroughly offended the reverend, which is hilarious.

Konombo Joseph - I started calling this scammer "Kotex Johnson", and he is now calling himself that. This is you average 419 scam, but I am trying to get him to join NAMBLA.

Aziz Musa - FOr this one I downloaded a bunch of pictures of Lisa Sparxxx (When you're at home do a Google image search on her, very....talented porn star) and am working under the guise of Candi Bubbles, who is currently n the set of Apache Penetrators 4: The Mojave Connection. THis scammer is falling in love with Candi, which is not hard to do since she has such a down home earthy look to her.

Carlson Bentley - This is a lottery scam, I won 500000 GBP and I only need to pay 220 dollars for a document fee in order to get the check sent to me. I am working the same route I did with Benson Hunter. Although the name of the company is different and the address is different, is Carlson Bentley Benson Hunter? We will find out. I am calling him Carlton Bendme and making sure I put the word "over" after his name as much as possible...

There are more scams, but these are the most entertaining... let me know or I will choose one at random, also I will do some more work on the Smeagol and Erica Saga, which is going to take a turn for the funnier... anyway, enjoy:

WHen we last left Margaret Kumasi, she had just started with the foundation she wanted me to open with the 31.5 million dollars her husband left her as she has cancer blah blah blah....scammer's emails in black, mine in red, thoughts in blue, Hot karl in green (Thong):

RE: from margaret‏
From: Margaret Kumasi (
Sent: Tue 12/04/07 12:36 AM
To: Semore Butts (

Dearest Semore Butts,

How are you? I hope you are doing well; I have contacted my attorney this morning regards to the procurement of the necessary document bank will require for this fund transfer process to your bank account, according to him he said that he is waiting for your details to secure the necessary documents, so I advice you to contact him and follow his is his contact again.

Name: Barr.Ubanwa Philip.


Please keep me posted,

Thanks and God bless you,

Yours faithfully,

Mrs. Margaret Kumasi,

Man these scammers are pushy! So I write to Barrister Ubanwa Philip, and go through a couple of different names, though now I am calling him Obiwan Kenobe and ending each email with "Help me Obiwan, you're my only hope".....really:

Margaret Kumasi‏
From: Semore Butts (
Sent: Tue 12/04/07 3:57 PM

Dear barrubanwaphilip1,

I am Semore Butts, heir to the throne of Zamunda, ruler of all the land. No I kid, I am not but I play someone who is on tv. I am the one Margaret Kumasi has chosen to receive her funds for the starting of the No Child Left Behind Untouched charity, also known as the Margaret Kumasi Charity.

I want to donate a small portion to NAMBLA, a very reputable charity here in the United States, in exchange for some good PR for our start up charities and to get some young labor to make our images hip so that we can become multimedia conglomerates working at McDonald's washing lettuce until we make assistant manager. Please tell me what I need to do to help, I am most willing.

Semore Butts.

PS - since your name is so long, barrubanwaphilip1, can I call you Bubba instead? Thanks in advance, Bubba

LOL, I kill me...anyway, his response and the introduction of Hot Karl tomorrow, this is my 10 commandments, which I have tried and am trying to live by in my daily lifes. You enjoy, very nice!

Top Ten Ways to Be "The Funny Guy" in your office.

10. Keep telling the same person that they have bad breath even if they don't. Then punch them in the mouth.

9. Announce in a meeting that you have AIDS. After everyone gives you the sympathy remarks, tell everyone how you're just kidding, and tell them that they are all a bunch of queers.

8. Before a meeting, fill your mouth with custard; then during the meeting put one finger in the air and make like you're hocking up a big loogie, then spit the custard into a glass and hand it to the person next to you and say "beat that!"

7. Inform a male coworker that he "wouldn't make a good hooker" then piss in his coffee and tellhim he needs a "good assfucking."

6. Always walk around with a big smile and keep one hand down the front of your pants.

5. Answer every question asked to you with "Fuck if I know!" then call the person a racial slur that doesn't even match their race.

4. Brag about the fact that you own a gun, and keep playing with your nuts, getting them really sweaty, then walk around shaking everyone's hand.

3. Run down the hall with your dick out while urinating all over and yell "IT WON'T STOP! GOD HELP ME! IT WON'T STOP!" then when it stops look down and say "ohhhhh..."

2. Ask to borrow someone else's pen; bring it to the bathroom; stick it in your ass; return it and tell the person to smell it; when they say that it smells bad, be like "Well it should! I had it in my ass!"

1. Shit on the floor in your office and when someone comes in and sees it, tell them its the fake plastic kind -- when they try to pick it up and realize that their hand is full of shit, laugh and point.

Soon, I will also post the "Beefmac" story, as it is hilarious and I cannot read it without almost shitting myself. Yeah yeah, I know: "Use your onw material asshole!" And I have a lot more of my own material, but I am also incredibly lazy, so deal with it.

Friday, December 14, 2007

When you really love someone...

We call her Greyskull

but that insults Skeletor

Should I rename her?

I think I may have told you all, but my family is not very close. Or normal. or sober. Or clean. In either sense of the word (drugs or hygienic). Or Proud. From my uncle shitting in Walmart bags and throwing them out the window to my dad not being able to tell us definitively that he never sucked a dick for crack, we have been through a lot.

At this point in my intrepid tale of my life, my dad had already taken all of my money I made whilst working, alienated me from any chance of having steady friends as they would come over to him whining about how badly he needed pussy, and then asking them if they had older sisters who were over 18, and life was strangely spiraling downhill. It was the day after Christmas, 1996, and I had finally had it. I had been taken out of school to watch Janet, my dad called every 15 minutes at LEAST, Smeagol was doing better than I was (even if only because he was paying for his room and board by giving the Smeagol Snausage to Mystery on a daily basis, so maybe he was not doing as well as me), and I was wearing dirty clothes all the time because I had finally run out of money that I used to wash my own clothes at the corner laundromat.

I had moved in with a friend for about a week, but my dad threatened his parents with the law, so I was returned where my dad told me if I left home again he would "Whomp up on your butt boah!" I wasn't sure what it was, but it sounded gay, and the hand on the knee that was just funny before Janet came along, when the three of us would call eachother gay and laugh and then eat food and enjoy heat and other utilities, was becoming more gay with each iteration, especially since I always thought about how he probably sucked a cock for dope.

We had phones, but no gas, water, but no lights, and I was sitting outside the shitter, listening to Janet queef out another fucking mud baby, grunting like a stuck pig, and I finally decided. Fuck this. I am done. I get up ad call my dad at work, and tell him I do not intend to watch his crackhead wife smoke crack for the rest of my life, unlike him I planned on being something. I mean, fuck! This man made fun of me because I did not want to become a junkie! He had told me in the months leading up to my 16th birthday that when I turned 16 he would buy me come crack, some coke, LSD, paiote, opium, weed and other shit, let me try it all and see which one I wanted to start using. I told him that I planned on going back to school and trying to graduate, to which he replied that I was an uppity asshole who thought I was better than the rest of them.

Yeah, pretty much, I did think like that!

Anyway, my dad told me to stand outside the bathroom and he would deal with me when he got home, and I told him to shove it up his ass. I hung up and got my meager belongings together, I only had 1 trashbag worth of shit to my name, and called my sister to come get me. I went and sat in the living room, ignoring JJ's grumbling as since it was his turn next to watch Janet he had to go up.

Dad got home before my sister got there, and he was mad. "You made me quit my job, you ungrateful little shit!" He spit at me... well, I did not make him do anything, and I was bigger than he was at that point, who the hell did he think he was talking to?

I informed him that I did not intend on staying there and becoming a loser like him, and that I was leaving for good and he could watch Janet on his own if he wanted to. Well this insolence was not going to go unpunished, and he lunged at me.

Let me explain the circumstances here, because this was different from the Dad that fought the Smeags all those years before:

1. The old dad weighed 280 pounds, and was still out in the field, doing manual labor at his job. New dad stood at a register and snuck food all the time and maybe weighed 195 or so, due to the crack.

2. Old dad was not on crack. New dad was, and this somehow made him more dangerous, though weaker if that makes any sense.

3. Smeagol, at his prime, weighed 170 pounds and was 5'2. After 2 years of football and no food, giving me plenty of time to exercise, I was 240 pounds and could bench almost what I can now, which is not anything to scoff at.

Dad was not thinking of all this, and I knew that, because his favorite phrase, outside of "Is this the 5 o'clock free crack giveaway?!" is "You may be bigger, and stronger, and faster, and younger, but I'm meaner"... and he was about to test this theory.

I would like to say it was a battle of epic proportions, but I felt sorry for the guy. A few well placed punches and I went to wait outside while he talked shit from inside the house. I was finally on my own, a bachelor, free in the world, what could go wrong now?

We find out all the shit that can go wrong Monday.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

The Smeag's Triumph

O Benson Hunter,
How I miss your stupid ways
I'll miss you, scumbag

Smeagol Time!

So JJ calls at like 1115 last night, and I pick up to see what the hell he wants, even though I just got out of the shower, and was standing there powdering my balls (don't judge). It appears That Smeagol, whilst hiding out from me, has been a busy little raptor. He offered my mom 10 dollars to perm his hair, and she did the work, actually touching his scalp, and then he said he was going out to his car to get the money and drove off.

His undercover lover, the lavicious Nikki (the girl who was offering it for like 10 bucks a pop but JJ told Smeagol 100 so he could scam him of his money), had confessed recently to attaining Chlamydia (which, if you watch the Ladies Man, is a soup), thus ending their short love relationship. I personally quipped she got it from laying on the same carpet we dragged that maggot infested refrigerator across, and that shit filled fish tank. Smeagol asked JJ if she had gotten her shot to clear that up yet, and was more than disappointed to find out she did not, even offering to pay to get the shot for her so he could go back to banging her, trying to propogate the raptop with a bad perm race throughout this planet that shit on him every day.

You would think this is enough crap for Smeagol to be doing, well you're wrong! Smeags raptored some money from my mom a while ago, and she was a little short on money, and asked Smeagol if he could bring by 20 dollars or so so they could pick up dinner. Smeagol promised he would be by around 5 or 530 to bring the money, and called in to work, forcing my mom to go in early (They work at the same place, only different shifts) to pass out meds, which is beneath what she usually does since she is head nurse on her shift. Anyway, Smeagol called in, presumably to go by his bank and get the money, and as of 1115 last night, had not shown up or answered his phone... That's awesome, I mean we all knew he was not going to bring any money by. That one was a given. But to also call in and force my mom to work, it's a good thing they actually had food and just wanted something else... I am sure Smeagol was at his house, laying on his stinky ass couch in his apartment, eating kim chi, maybe cawing softly to himself at how he got over on someone again, trying in vain to beat Castlevania: Symphony of the Night (I will post why this is hilarious in the future)... JJ assured me when Smeagol comes by in the next few days to sleep on my mom's couch that he is going to knock him off the couch onto the floor...

Maybe a scam tomorrow, maybe not.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007


Ride the wicked storm
knock the Stevester's power out
Head for disaster


I am going to toss up a bunch of quickies today, let me know if you want me to expound on any of these:

1. Mystery once told me Smeagol has to look at a porn magazine to get it up before he lays into her. The irony of this is lost to her dull sensibilities.

2. Bagheera, our 15 foot python, busted out a fucking window and crawled out of it rather than deal with Smeagol anymore.

3. JJ once stabbed me in the stomach with a broken beer bottle because I did not give him a turn on Super Tecmo Bowl fast enough.

4. I once hit on a girl at Worlds of Fun (a long time ago, I was still single), and was amazed when she knew my name. Turns out she was my second cousin. I still wanted to hump her.

5. When Smeagol had a computer from Rent-a-Center, my little brother and I decided to be tricksters and sign him up for some gay porn. Not being gay, we were going to do a Google Search for gay porn to come up with some, and my little brother accidentally clicked on history, showing us more gay porn than we could have easily found on Google.

6. When Kareema would allow up to 5 area thugs to pound away at her while she lay on Smeagol's bed, she would allow them to also rob Smeagol on their way out, and they would take his PS2, his remote control cars, but strangely, never his thong.

7. When driving past some bicycle enthusiasts who had flipped me off for going around them on my way up to the store, I swerved into some water and soaked them once. Sorry Jason.

8. I got drunk once and fingered Jeff's daughter. Don't tell him.

9. Once my larger than life nephew was sitting there watching me eat some Reese's pieces out of a pretty big bag. I got annoyed and threw the whole bag at him and told him to "just eat them all". He did, and I was sad because I hadn't really meant for him to.

Short Scam Time!

Today I would like to debut a new and exciting era in my scams, as my main man the Tylester has agreed to take on the part of Hot Karl, my attorney. This is the Margaret Kumasi saga! Scammer's emails in black, mine in red, thoughts in blue, Hot Karl's emails in green:

This is the original email to my home account...

-----Original Message-----
From: margaret kumasi []
Sent: Friday, November 30, 2007 3:46 AM
Subject: Dearly Beloved,

Dearly Beloved,

It is with my humble pleasure and trust, I write this very important letter
to you, considering you are capable and kind enough to assist me in this
understated business proposal. I am just trying to know if you can be of
help, irrespective of the fact that we have not met before or know each
other I am Mrs. Margaret Kumasi from Freetown Sierra Leone. I was married to
Wilfred Kumasi the Ceo of Sierra Leone Diamond Mining Company & a seasoned
contractor in West African Region. Before his death four years ago after a
brief illness. We were married for eleven years without a child. After his
death I decided not to re-marry or get a child outside my matrimonial home.When my late husband was alive, he deposited the sum of $31.5Million(thirty-one million five hundred thousand U.S. Dollars) in a Bank. My Doctortold me that I would not last for the next three months due to cancer problem. Having known my condition I decided to donate these funds to betterthe lives of the less privileged.

Hence, I will need an honest and trust worthy individual that will utilize
this money in accordance with my instruction. I want the funds to be used in
funding religious organizations, orphanages and less privileged for
propagating the word of God. I took this decision because I don't have any
child that will inherit this money and my husband relatives are very dubious
and unkind to me and I don't want my husband's hard earned money to be
misused. I am not afraid of death because I know I will make peaceful
eternal rest. I know that I am going to be in the bosom of the Lord. Exodus 14 VS 14 says that the lord will fight my course and I shall hold my peace. I speak good English in case you want a telephone communication in this
regard. As soon as I receive your reply I shall give you the contact of the
Bank, and my companies in Sierra Leone and other parts of Africa. For
legitimacy, I will also issue you a letter of authority that will empoweryou as the original-beneficiary of this fund. I want you to always pray for
me, any delay in your reply will give me room in sourcing for another
individual for this same purpose.

Yours sincerely,

Mrs. Margaret Kumasi

Pretty standard, really. (I love Doctor Evil) I respond:

RE: Dearly Beloved,‏
From: Semore Butts (
Sent: Mon 12/03/07 3:07 AM

Dear Margaret,

I am sorry the cancer is ravaging your body like an unstoppable rebel force. To know when you are going to die is like knowing the chick you plan on banging used to be a dude: there's no longer any surprises, and you are a little sad to be just going through the motions. Tell me what I must do, and please respond quickly, I want to get ahold of your money before you croak.


Semore Butts

RE: Dearly Beloved,‏
From: Margaret Kumasi (
Sent: Mon 12/03/07 10:17 AM
To: Semore Butts (

Dearest Semore Butts,

Thank you for your reply to my proposal to you despite
that you don’t know me to well, but I want to let you
know that this business is real and legal, beside is
not a do or die affair, I only need a trustworthy
individual that can handle the project well, which
will be Named Margaret Child Care Foundation. Note,there are documents that will be required in thistransaction process, and those documents are the
Bank’s pre-requisite from you as the next of kin
will provide all these documents to you. You will also
need the services of my attorney as a representing
attorney who will stand on your behalf to sign all the
related transfer documents including the FUND RELEASE
ORDER PAPERS on your behalf with the United Bank for
Africa (UBA). At the end of this transaction when funds has been
confirmed in your account, 30% of the total funds will
be your share, while 70% balance will be for Charity
Organization and the less privileged. My attorney will
work out all the modalities with you as soon as you
contact him for this excise. I also want you to know that the project is not a do
or die affair, please contact me if you are willing to
assist me carry out this project and I will direct you
to my attorney. I am looking forward to hearing from you, and note
that am not in any way disturbing you to carry out
this project, if you are not willing to do so you let
me know and I will look for another individual that is
willing to assist me in the same purpose please get
back to me with the following info.
Your fullname………………………………………………………..
Your homeaddress……………………………………………………
Your occupation……………………………………………………….
Your age andsex………………………………………………………

Thanks and God bless you,

Mrs.Margaret Kumasi

How lame is it to send me to another email address where *gasp* her attorney will make the exact same spelling mistakes! I love the word "modalities", also the word "consignment", and strangely, the phrase "Pound me Stevester!" WHich I have never heard except that one time in jail and I don't like thinking about that...

More tomorrow.

Monday, December 10, 2007

Greyskull Returns

Holy Hell Chiefs suck
Denver forgot to use lube
O the tears, the shame!


None of these stories are going to be in order, and I don't really give a shit. Remembering stuff in order is HARD!

The first of MANY...

So Greyskull took over, and our old manager went to head up some other lucky group... some of my colleagues tried to make the best of a shitty situation, instead of doing like the Stevester and keeping it real to da core. I knew from day one that she was going to be a piece of crap, and I have never been very good at hiding my emotions or pretending I like someone if I do not, which in the past made me well suited for a job in customer service at Gateway. I cannot pretend I am someone I am not, I cannot pretend I am happy when I am not, and this for some reason translated to Greyskull that I was a problem child, who had only to be brought to her loving bosom or shown what was under her leather skirt of Doom in order to fly the straight and narrow.

So it was, Stevester running the phones like a madman, minding my own business, and Greyskull comes thundering up the hallway, probably fresh from dropping a couple of mud monkeys as the thunder does not quite rattle my chair, and peeks over my cube wall.

"You got a minute?" It's funny because she sounds so nice, we would soon learn that was how she was able to consume so many kitten's souls, by luring them with her smile that hid the voracious appetite of Satan's minions and complete incompetence. Well fuck it I would soon learn...

I mosey on into her office, completely unaware that I was walking into the den of Evil, the smell of lotion barely masking the rotten carcasses of kittens and other assorted forest creatures she kept under her desk at any given time, no telltale blood trails because she never left any moisture or hope behind. I sit down and cross my arms, which is normal for me because I am a little embarrassed over my fucking b-cup mantits and do that as a way to ward off any purple nurples or titty twisters that may try to infiltrate my k-rat training.

"Well I noticed that you do not talk much and so I figured I would take the first steps toward building a relationship with you,' -she gargled out, tiny kitten screams attempting to escape but not even coming close- 'and learn a little more about what it is you do here. I don't want you to think about me as a 'big manager type' (which is funny because I simply thought of her as a waste of space up until that point) but more as a friend or a coworker that you can bring all of your problems to when you have them." At this she settled back on her throne, the smell of burning mayonnaise penetrating my pores and very being. I noticed she had stopped talking, and that was apparently waiting for a response. Time to stop daydreaming about some of the hot chicks in records.

And yet at this point I had no idea what she wanted me to say. It was apparent from her expectant glare that she wanted something, maybe to eat me or at least gnaw on my leg or something, but it was not obvious what. So I sat there and glared back.

"Nothing to say?' Her smile got bigger, and it was apparent she could fit a whole turkey in there sideways. I must point out at this junction that she was sounding more and more condescending as the conversation went on, and it was pissing me off. While I like slacking off like any man does, this was not an acceptable diversion.

"Nope." I couldn't think of anything else to say, and instantly hated myself for letting this wildebeest of evil get to me like she had.

"Well see that's what I'm talking about. Look at your body language. Your arms are crossed, your legs are crossed, and you're leaning back in your chair, and all of these are indications that you are angry or annoyed." OK I guess body language is accurate. But I ask you, gentle reader, who gets called into Management and skips in there and sits with a huge IQ-lowering grin on their face, gently upturning it to catch all the shit that flies out of management's ass as they gently suckle the sphincters of anyone they think will promote them? Well besides Flanders and Crazy Santa...

I inform her that is the way I sit, and that I wouldn't mind going back to work. She then informs me that she can sign me up for a class on communication if I would like, as my attitude is causing a disruption for those around me. At that point McCool and Terrorist are the only other occupants in my cube quad, so I wonder which one of those bitches whined. I would soon learn that Greyskull made shit up whenever her mouth opened.

Part II tomorrow, then back to Smeagol & Erica's saga of failure