and when shall the spring
grace our humble, chilled visage
with it's warm embrace?
The One to Rule Them All
Man I hate capitalizing multiple words. Anyway, I know it's been a while since I have postified, we have been busy at work and truth be told I can't be bothered to log into my computer at home, I have too much other stuff to do (toilet shop, watch bad kung fu movies, etc...) that requires my attentions.
For those of you who hate my scams, you will be annoyed. This one, though, is a magical one. I sat down on the toilet to think about why none of my scams ever go anywhere, and came up with this short list:
1. I go gay almost immediately, and not only do I foray into the warm sticky waters of Gay Lake, I take a pink-hulled submarine through the brown murky waters of the Gay Sea. This would probably scare anyone off, not just a scam artist.
2. My reasonings and random meanderings are very over the top, so it is almost impossible to believe anything I say. This is also probably why I have never gotten a decent photo, like one with someone holding a sign, which, truth be told, pains me greatly.
3. I've found I insult them too quickly, the first time they say they do not want to deal with me because I am "not a serious", they are testing the waters. When I reply that I fucked their mother, I muffle the flame rather than coax it into a raging fire of happiness.
It is with all this in mind that I give you the following scambait summary:
Kevin Sanduru is a bank official in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso. He recently found a long-lost sum of 14 million dollars, which is strange that a sum like that would go unnoticed in a country whose median income is just under 1200 dollars a year. He needs to get a foreign national to accept the money into their account and blah blah blah... you all know the drill. Here is what I am gonna do to cut down on post length... I am going to truncate all of the scammer bullshit. I will still let you know important/ funny things they say, but a lot of it is just worthless filler, and it bores me as much as it does you. Here is the plot:
Phil McKraken is the first person contacted by this asshat. Phil is a wealthy businessman who has one weakness: brothels. Phil spends a lot of his time/ money in brothels, and is constantly accosted for lack of payment of his "local brothel bill" (I have no idea what that is either, but it sounded good) by the large, bald, hairy Russian wrestler
Hot Karl, who is also a lawyer by day. Hot Karl kidnaps Phil halfway into the scam and threatens to molest Phil if the scammer does not cut him in on both the Phil Mcraken deal and the deal with
Semore Butts, who Kevin Sanduru is ALSO talking to, who is a corporate contortionist (not sure what that is either), who is Hot Karl's client and is also soon going to be married to
Candi Bubbles, who is an adult film actress working on Apache Violators 4: the Mojave Connection somewhere in the Sierra-Nevada desert, and needs to feel the touch of a large black man before her upcoming nuptials, and also needs protection from one of her brothel clients Phil McKraken.
I know, I know this is a long and drawn out plot that would rival some motion pictures, and all I can say is "your welcome". I worked long and hard for almost 20 minutes working this all up before I started, and it seems to be coming along nicely. No photo yet, but Kevin Sanduru is beginning to wonder why all these people promise him money and yet no one is paying him...
Anyway, I have something else I would like to share as well.
Why is it the first question nurses ask when they look at my diabetic charts is whether or not I can get it up? Is that supposed to be a challenge? I want to get on the insulin pump as it offers more control of the disease that rampages through my pancreas like an unstoppable rebel force, and in order to get said pump I have to go through a series of sweet-n-sassy classes on carb counting. I show up and the first one I talk to is a dietitian, who is strangely pretty hawt (I mean, a lot of dietitians I have seen look like if they swallowed a Dorito you would see it in their stomach, which is fucking disgusting. I have no use for a woman unless she can fight back and/or outwrassle me), and we walk into her office, sit down, I am trying to relax when she hits me with the bomb: "How's your penis? Are you able to sustain an erection?" Uuuuhhhhh....... what?! While it would be awesome to stand up and show her that I have no problem in that area, I notice as she asks that lil' Stevester is shriveling like one of those stupid snake fireworks in reverse. NooOoooOo! I inform her that not only do I NOT have trouble, that I never have, and we go on with the rest of the session like normal.
I then have to go to the diabetes educator, who is a MUCH older woman with short hair who looks like she escaped from a Brady Bunch movie (I mean no insult, this lady was so friggin cool I woulda mounted her at the end of the interview because she was not ashamed to bring ANYTHING up, and that is awesome!). I walk in and sit down, and the first thing out of her mouth is "So are you having any trouble with sexual activity? Are you able to sustain an erection during intercourse?" I wonder secretly with one eyebrow raised quizzically if maybe my wife had talked to them (I was drunk and the window was open! It as COLD outside!) and asked them to see if I was having some issues. I inform her that I am able to do both, which she seems to think is the greatest thing since sliced bread, and informs me a lot of people who have had diabetes as long as I have have problems getting it up because they have no control over said disease. I have OK control, so I am not sure why they both mention it to me, but I will say this, I am gonna pretend I am having trouble so I can get some viagra or something, how awesome would it be to walk around work all day with a raging boner?! Well I do that anyway but this time without having to stroke it every few minutes, which gets awkward and tiring on the handicles, I must say.
Sorry to bring that up, I feel I can share anything with you all...