Thursday, November 29, 2012

Spam email of the week

We have a lot of fun with these spam email posts around here. And by we I mean I. You probably hate them. That said, I understand the point of most of these spam emails is to steal your identity and/or money and cause irreparable damage to your bank accounts and dignity, which is all well and good. Sometimes, however, these emails are so far out there it's difficult to grasp their purpose.

For example, let's say you are a person interested in, oh I don't know ... obtaining oil from China. That is a pretty big expenditure, I would imagine. You probably have a secretary and assistants and stuff. Much of your business involves strong networking connections, flights across the world, political contacts. You probably know Dick Cheney. Dick Cheney is a contact in your phone. I guess what I'm saying is, you're probably not sitting at your computer waiting for an email to serve as a lead re: getting oil from China.

Or, better yet, say you're me, a person who blogs about nonsense and who only sort of knows where the oil thingee is in his Kia Sportage (under the hood somewhere). And say you get an email like this:

Subject: Oil from China

In all honesty, if someone were to send me barrels of oil from China right now, for free -- regardless of how much this could earn me -- it would be a HUGE burden. I would have nowhere to put them and I wouldn't know the first person to call. I would probably ask my brother-in-law to sell them on ebay, and that can't be legal. I am already stressing out about this and I didn't even agree to anything yet.

Dear sir:
This is Alisa from a manufacturer specializing in producing Chemical raw materials in China. Here are our latest product: silicone oil,  transformer oil ,base oil, used cooking oil.Hope the product can meet your needs.
Any question, do not hesitate to contact me.

Of everything that is terrifyingly bizzare here, the differences in font are the most disturbing to me. Also, USED COOKING OIL? Pretty sure I can get my hands on some grease if need be. And you know what? Should I ever need some grease that I can't manufacture in my own kitchen, you know where I'm going to get it? IN AMERICA. That's where. Not to get all political here, but if we, as a nation, cannot produce decent grease ... I just ... I can't even.

Any question, do not hesitate to contact me.
Waiting for your early reply. 
Best regards
Company: BeijingShengShiTianJiao Chemicals Co.,Ltd
Tel: 0086-0311-67799652
Fax: 0086-0311-67799652
Skype: alisaalisa86756

The rest of this is par for the course -- the company name, if you separate it into "words," shockingly produces Google results, although the websites it leads to are super weird. One thing of note, however, is that Alisa left her Skype address. I would really enjoy finding Alisa on Skype.

alisaalisa86756: Static-y picture of 425-lb woman in a Snuggie surrounded by parakeets comes up. Uh, hello?

mikekennystuff (not my actual Skype address so don't be botherin' me!): Alisa!

alisaalisa86756: Uh, who ARE you?

mikekennystuff: It's me, sir!

alisaalisa86756: Listen yo, I have no idea who you be, so just stop playin'--

mikekennystuff: Alisa, it's ME. you sent me the awesome email about oil from China ... ? Remember? Used cooking oil? Ring a bell?

alisaalisa86756: Wha--OH snap, you mean that bullsh--I mean, oh yeah, that's me ... what's up? Shoos parakeets away, sits up on couch.

mikekennystuff: Okay, so you said to contact you if I had any questions, aaaand, the more I was thinking about it ... Remember the part where you were like blah, blah, blah, transformer oil? My question is: Is that the type of oil Transformers use, like from the movie?

alisaalisa86756: Is this is a joke, yo? You know I don't have time for this, I'm very busy with ... things.

mikekennystuff: Oh, no! I honestly need to know. Because if it IS, I was thinking about buying a bunch of barrels from you and then reselling them to director Michael Bay at a jacked up rate for when he makes "Transformers 8: Revenge of the Revenge."

alisaalisa86756: For real? Oh yeah, no doubt, transformer oil is what all the Transformers need to survive. They all use it ... uh, Globotron, MegaForce ... John ... ny ... Max ... aTron.

mikekennystuff: Are those the new Transformers? I've never heard of them.

alisaalisa86756: Oh yeah, they be the new ones alright. When you work in the transformer oil industry, you know these things. Just don't tell anyone, okay?

mikekennystuff: You can trust me, Alisa! Can I place my order now?

alisaalisa86756: Oh fo sho! Just lemme get a pen ... YO LISA! GET ME A PEN OR SOMETHIN' RIGHT QUICK.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Holiday special review: ‘Frosty Returns’

During the month leading up to Christmas, Mike will review popular or, more likely, not-so-popular holiday specials. This review appears in 11/29 The Glendale Star and the 11/30 Peoria Times.

“Frosty the Snowman” is a special that contains all the essentials of classic, holiday entertainment: a talking snowman, an evil magician, a girl who can easily take a train to the North Pole with a talking snowman she just met five minutes earlier as long as she's "home for dinner," etc. It’s not really Christmas season until you’ve watched “Frosty,” and this year Christmas season began Nov. 23 on CBS.

Not so classic is “Frosty Returns,” the unnecessary early 90s follow-up to the original that now airs immediately after “Frosty” in an attempt to lure Americans into believing the two are comparable pieces of entertainment. Wikipedia goes out of its way to note “Frosty Returns” is not a sequel, since it was produced by Lorne Michaels (?!) Broadway Video and not Rankin/Bass, the company that produced the original and every great holiday special that has ever existed.

Thankfully the special is still narrated, except this time by Jonathan Winters as opposed to Jimmy Durante. I always appreciated the holiday special narrator because as a child, and also as a 34-year-old man writing about children’s specials, it’s often difficult to follow the complex storylines without a narrator’s assistance. For example, the gap between when Rudolph leaves home to when, in like the next scene, he is an adult, is explained by the talking snowman (not Frosty; a different one) with the umbrella-walking stick who informs us that Rudolph was "growing up."

Anyway, the plot line of the original “Frosty” was pretty simple. Snowman comes to life thanks to a magic hat, he thinks it’s someone’s birthday because he’s kind of an idiot, they march through the streets, then he melts/dies but Santa and the girl save him because they believe in Christmas or whatever. The plot line of “Frosty Returns,” however, is not only inconsistent with its superior predecessor, but it also seems to bizarrely adhere to a left wing agenda.

Drunk off “Roseanne” money, John Goodman provides the voice for Frosty, advancing the snowman’s personality from naïve to grunge-era realistic. An evil character develops a spray that makes snow disappear, earning the praise of the snow-hating townspeople who can't get to their cartoon jobs due to a snowstorm and threatening Frosty’s existence. Oh no I hope they can save Frosty aga—zzzzzzzzzzzzz.

By the way, "Frosty Returns" doesn't only rip off the original - it seems to "borrow" from other cartoons as well. For example, there is a kid in this movie who is like the town nerd or something and looks like he was pulled off the set of Peanuts. Also, he doesn't have eyes, which is distracting.

Isn't this lady from a comic strip? Or those birthday cards with the sarcastic remarks about "I am so old I don't have sex anymore and neither do you?"

Oh, a balding cartoon villain with an ugly cat? That's original.

If you’re thinking that an aerosol spray that gets rid of snow would be environmentally unsafe, you are not alone. According to Wikipedia, When one of the members of the town council voices concern about the environmental impact of the untested product, Mr. Twitchell has her dropped through a trapdoor. Oh, councilwoman so-and-so just fell through a trap door, I guess this topic is closed, is how everybody reacts.

Since I am a hippie vegetarian, I have no problem with environmentalism, but I don’t want it in my Christmas specials. All I want is for a person or animal to discover the true meaning of Christmas; I don’t want to learn about global warming. More disturbing, however, is that “Frosty Returns” seems to ignore Christmas altogether. Neither Santa nor Jesus even makes an appearance (I’ll forgive the latter) and the major plot device is not Christmas itself but the “Winter Carnival,” a pagan ceremony where virgins are sacrificed (not true—but who really knows?).

By expanding upon a beloved Christmas tale that needed no expanding upon, “Frosty Returns” reminds us that the most important thing of all is to limit our carbon imprint so that our grandchildren can continue to celebrate this special holiday we call winter. I give it zero Christmas stars.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Spam email of the week

Subject: RE:Re:1Promotional giftsStage lighting Downtown lights up with Glendale Glitters spectacular ...

This email is regarding something regarding something. That something is Glendale Glitters, a holiday celebration in Glendale, the city where I work. The extent of my role in Glendale Glitters is that I have attended it with my family a few times. Oh, also I am in charge of the lighting for the event, I guess?

Hi Manager,

Stop. You had me at "Hi Manager." It's like this email is speaking directly to me, as if it knows everything about me, all of my inner secrets, hopes, dreams, wishes, fears, aspirations, my name ...

Good day. I am Doris from Flystar Lighting Co., Ltd.

Hi Doris. I am Manager from Company That Has Nothing To Do With What You Are Proposing.

We specialize in stage lighting production with high quality & very competitive price.

This is very relevant to me, Doris. I want to hear more, as I am very familiar with stage lighting and electricity in general and how it works. I know that to get electricity you put the wires into the socket holes or whatever and then the lights go on because of the science.

We have been deal with BKL company for 5 years.

I don't know what that means. Is that impressive? I feel somewhat insufficient for not knowing all the
acronyms for the big lighting production companies out there. But here's something I do know: Five years is a very, very, very long time. If I am going to commit to a lighting production company -- and I'm not because it's not what I do and I have no idea what is happening right now -- I want to go with one that has five years experience deal(ing) with a different company I am equally unfamiliar with.

Hope to be one of your lighting supplier in the nearly future.

Listen, Doris, I'll make you a deal. If I ever enter the field of stage lighting production, I promise that you will be like the third or fourth "person" I call -- I want to explore other options first -- provided that, in the meantime, you learn how to communicate like someone who wasn't dropped on earth three seconds ago.

Write me back  please, Let's talk more in details.

See that what's I'm talking about. You really need to fix that.

As if this email wasn't convincing enough, Doris ends with a fantastic color picture featuring the big shots (PUN) of stage lights -- The Stage XB Stalwart 300, MonsterLite Max VI, and other lights with names I have made up. Better yet, the lights themselves appear to be posing for grade school Glamor Shots. This picture is best experienced by imagining that all of these lights have parents that have given wallet size versions of their respective photos out the rest of their light families. Good day.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Parenting backfire: Stranger danger

We’re beginning to teach our daughter the important lesson of being fearful of everyone.
This is a slippery slope for all parents, and it definitely has been for us because our daughter is extraordinarily extroverted.

You know how sometimes you are required to talk to a child who is not your own? I have tried that before and it is usually very unsuccessful. The child rarely responds to my inane question or comment and instead stares at me like I am the villain of a recently-viewed cartoon and then cowers behind the leg of a nearby, trusted adult. It is a very uplifting experience.

Our daughter is not like that, which makes me both proud and scared. She will ask a stranger in a grocery store existential questions—“S’cuse me why you be like that?”—from the seat of a shopping cart-car hybrid vehicle before that stranger even knows she is there.

She also has a sixth sense for soliciting strangers who so obviously do not want to be bothered. If you are 96 years old and walking around Trader Joe’s with an oxygen tank behind you and a look that says, “Get out of my way—I only have so much time left on Earth and I need to buy this asparagus,” then you are the person she will specifically target to serenade with her version of “Call Me Maybe.”

She is also not intimidated by anyone. Just weeks ago, while walking around Tolmachoff Farms for some family pumpkin-picking, we found ourselves about to cross paths with a very tall and large man wearing a cowboy hat who had stern eyes and who was walking quite menacingly. Our daughter looked up, way up, and greeted him by saying, “Hey cowboy.” Taken aback, he tipped his cap. It was quite awkward in the moment, but imagining her saying something like that when she is, say, 21, made it much, much worse.

After pleading to hug the older gentleman standing behind us in the checkout line at Safeway, my wife and I decided we needed to have a little talk with her. This talk occurred in the car a couple weeks ago after picking up my in-laws at the airport, so they were included in the discussion. And all the better considering it was my in-laws who instilled in my wife a healthy (questionable) fear of all unfamiliar human beings, a warranted skepticism thanks to the harsh realities of Brooklyn life.

Nevertheless, it was a struggle for all of us to explain to this 3-year-old child how she should not talk to strangers while simultaneously trying not to stifle her outgoing nature. Our apprehension at providing her the wrong message was nullified by the fact that it didn’t appear she was paying attention anyway.

We then stopped at Paradise Bakery for lunch. Upon entering the restaurant, our daughter laid eyes on a middle-aged man, pointed at him and yelled at the top of her lungs, “STRANGER, STRANGER!” The man was a good sport, telling our daughter she did the right thing, even though he posed no obvious threat and just wanted a sandwich. By the end of their conversation, she wanted a high-five and a hug. It seemed in the span of five minutes she had managed to take our advice while also maintaining her personality.

That concludes this week’s installment of “Parenting backfire.” There will be more weeks of this, I am sure.

Note: This column appears in the 11/22 issue of The Glendale Star and the 11/23 issue of the Peoria Times.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Spam email of the week

Subject: Creative Design and Development Services

Seems somewhat legitimate -- and exciting! -- right? This email is from a person, or something, called "Janvi." It's also in giant blue font.



Greetings of the day!

Greetings of the day to you, too? I have never heard this expression. Did "Hello" not qualify?

My name is Janvi, and I am working as a Business Development Manager in a Firm.

Like, THE firm? The one where they tried to kill Tom Cruise? That is dangerous, Janvi! Get out of there while you can! You can't, you say? You're in too deep? That sucks. Oh well, we might as well discuss a search engine optimization plan.

We are a Web Design and Development firm based in India, with over 4 years of experience.

I like how you bolded it and all, but four years isn't that many years, Janvi. Also, India? I KNOW you're not talking about outsourcing o'er here. Mo fo I work in Arizona -- we officially recognized Martin Luther King Day last week. We sure as heck ain't sending any business to India, wherever that is. So that's off the table. Still, preach your game.

Since your company offers Web Design and Development services to its clients,

It does not. But go on.

may I propose a business association between my firm and yours?

You may. I will assume that in India, weekly community newspapers are described as firms. Also I sincerely hope this proposal includes/IS a chart because I am a moron.

Our primary focus is around:-
Is that a face, Janvi? Or did you add a hyphen for no reason? Where is the smile? First you wish me all the greetings of the day and now you can't even preface a chart with a smiley face? MIXED SIGNALS. Whatever. Here :-) It's called diplomacy.

Web Design
Web Development
Flash Design
Graphic Designs
Link Building
Database programming
E-Commerce Solutions

This is my favorite chart that has ever existed. How long did this take to put together? Six weeks? Seven weeks? A thousand weeks? For someone touting web design expertise, the proof is certainly in the proverbial pudding of this chart. Mmmm ... pudding chart. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, this chart. What does it mean? Are some of these categories or are they all just things? It doesn't matter -- I am sold. Expect a call from my firm shortly, just as soon as we finish putting this article together about the local wildlife photo contest winners -- an article that, coincidentally, is lacking SIGNIFICANTLY in e-commerce solutions.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Taking it to the bank, literally

I’m pretty open to advances in technology, even if I’m often relatively late to the game. I think I’m part of that niche generation that was young enough to witness and accept the tech boom, but old enough to still be confounded by it. I am caught in the middle. If something weird happens to our laptop, I will literally just hand it to my 25-year-old brother-in-law and say, “Fix it.” Yet I am often the troubleshooter for my parents. (The troubleshooting is usually me telling them to just click “yes” on a pop-up box or telling them to call my brother-in-law.)

I embrace technology, so much so that it becomes for me a source of embarrassment to do something the old way. In fact, I will often blame outside factors for my inability to do something rather than just admit I have no idea what’s going on. Last week during some correspondence with a customer, I received an email that was like, “Please confirm via E-tear or scan and attach E-confirm form from web hoster.” I responded something along the lines of, “Unfortunately, I am unable to do that because of our operating system. :( How bout I just fax it, m’kay?” I didn’t even know if this made sense, but it was easier than having to admit my lack of understanding and risk having to learn a new thing.

Still, overall I think I’m adept at implementing technology into my everyday life. I mean, I’m the guy who uses the Great Clips app on my phone to check-in and gets to cut in front of the 8-year-old kid who’s been waiting with his mom to get his haircut for 20 minutes. There is, however, one facet of life where I am voluntarily old school in my approach—the bank.

Don’t get me wrong, I bank online, receive paperless statements, all that jazz. But when it comes to making physical deposits, I still do it the old way. I wait on line—the actual line with people, not the Internet—for the teller.

There is a reason for this. Many years ago when it was revealed we could, as Americans, deposit cash and checks into the ATM, I obliged. Granted, I was very nervous about this, and it took a considerable amount of courage for me to insert two weeks worth of pay into a machine. But I did it. And the machine lost it.
The amount of red tape and heartache it took to resolve this issue forced me to promise myself that I’d never succumb to the allure of bank deposit technology ever again. Ten years later, we live in an age where we can scan a check ourselves and deposit it through our phones. Do you have any idea how badly I want to do that?

Alas, I cannot. Besides the young children hanging perilously from the velvet rope maze, I am always the youngest person standing in the bank line because: who stands in the bank line anymore? Last week I stood in line for 15 minutes to deposit $20 into our daughter’s savings account. When I finally reached the teller, I became engaged in a familiar conversation:

Teller: Okay … twenty dollars? Is that, uh, all for you today, sir?

Me: Yes.

Teller: You know you can—

Me: I KNOW, I know.

Teller: Would you like cash back?

Me: Har, har. I use the Great Clips app, ya’ know …

Note: This column appears in the 11/8 issue of The Glendale Star and the 11/9 issue of the Peoria Times.

Thursday, November 08, 2012

Spam email of the week


Today's email is from my old friend, Chevron Oil Company. Unfortunately, Chevron, a multi-gazillion dollar oil company, could not attain the domain "@chevron." (Thankfully for all, they were able to get that as their Twitter handle, so if you like your oil updates swift and hilarious, follow @chevron.) Nope. They had to shorten it to @chv. Ya' know, THAT, or this email is complete bullshit.

Subject: Greetings!

The subject is "Greetings!"


Color me greeted.

I am Prof Abdul Wahid. a staff of the Chevron Oil Company,

Why, hello gas professor. You know, my wife oftentimes calls me the gas professor, so it appears we have an identity conflict here. Ha, ha, ha! Of course I am referring to farts. You probably get that a lot. Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, you are a staff of the Chevron Oil Company. That is interesting. Do you mean you are a long piece of wood or metal the Chevron Company carries around so it doesn't fall down? How did you write this email, considering you are an inanimate object? Probably because you are a professor, too. I'm sorry for all these questions. Please continue.

This email is to notify you that your email address as been selected by
the Board of trustees as one of the final recipients of this year Chevron
Oil Company promotion cash grant donation to celebrate the 30th
anniversary celebration.

The Board of Trustees for a multi-gazillion dollar oil company sat around a table trying to decide how to disperse the company's profits -- which is something companies do (?) -- and what they ultimately settled on was selecting from a pool of random email addresses. So far, this makes sense. Also, according to Wikipedia, Chevron was founded in 1984. Also, the name is Chevron Corporation and not Chevron Oil Company. Tell me what I won.

We are giving out the donation of {$850,000.00}
USD to 12 lucky recipients as this year promotion in support from the
W.H.O, UN, and the EU in-accordance with the enabling act of parliament.

The Enabling Act of Parliament states: It is hereby decreed that all public oil companies must celebrate their respective 30th anniversaries two years early and by giving out over $10 million to people who use email rather than just like, lowering the ridiculous cost of gas a few cents for everyone. DECREED! (Gavel slam). I don't want to get all political here, but in my opinion, this was our country's finest Parliament legislation. Also, big ups to the World Health Organization, which is somehow involved in this?

Fill out below information and contact the Chevron Oil Company promotion
Department payment center via email contact below:
1. Full Name:
2. Complete Address:
4. Telephone Number:
Contact Person
Tell: +234-80590-48178

If there's anything more legitimate than "Professor Abdul Wahid at," I've never heard of it. Also, for occupation, should I put my current one or the one I plan to have (none) once I get my money? I'll put "none," to be safe.

NOTE : If You Recieve This Message In Your Junk Or Spam Its Due To Your
Internet Provider

Me: Hi, Cox? Yeah, this is Mike. Listen, long story short -- you guys almost cost me 850 grand. I got this email about how I won 850 grand because I have email, and LUCKILY I checked my junk folder. But it shouldn't have went there. You need to change my Internet whatever to make sure this doesn't happen again.

Cox Communications: Uh, we honestly don't have anything to do with your specific email filters.

Me: Oh, really? Why don't you tell that to Professor Abdul Wahid!

Cox Communications: I honestly don't know what you are saying. We just provide the Internet connection. You probably have your email junk filter set to high. Or -- and this is just an opinion -- what you received really was junk, in which case, do NOT send any personal information in reply.

Me: Oh. Uhhh ... You guys do my phone, too, right?

Cox Communications: If by "do" you mean "provide service for your landline," yes.

Me: Can you tell me how to dial a number that is 13 numbers?

Cox Communications: I can, but it will cost you $850,000.

Me: Darn it! Figures. Patch me through to Parliament will ya'?

Cox Communications: Sure thing ... hangs up.

- - - - - -
H/T to great friend of So, Do You Like ... Stuff, Bill D., who provided his junk for this week's installment.

Tuesday, November 06, 2012

Sandy’s impact should affect us all

There were several factors involved in our decision to move from New Jersey to Arizona five and one half years ago, but if we had to boil it down to one reason, it was weather. We moved to Arizona for the weather.

Now, by “weather,” with regards to back east, I mean the brutally cold winters; de-icing the car on a dark, frigid Monday morning; blizzards and snowstorms that, great as they were as a kid, were nothing but inconvenient and dangerous as adults; incessant and unpredictable rain during all seasons that made it near impossible to make outdoor plans; unbearable summer humidity. By “weather” I never meant a natural disaster.

That’s what Superstorm Sandy was and is—a natural disaster. And it’s a very strange feeling to be here now, far removed from New Jersey and New York physically but not at all emotionally, spiritually. Our families and friends are all still there, and while they are all thankfully safe, they are living amidst the wreckage of a storm from which it seems impossible to fully recover.

I realize the Valley has its share of east coast transplants, but I find it necessary to extrapolate on what wrath this storm has wrought for those with no connections 2,500 miles away.

Anyone who has watched the news in the past two weeks knows that lives were lost; houses and places of business and livelihoods were destroyed; power has been out with no clear sign of its return in some areas; food and gas have been scarce and people are fighting for them as if characters in some post-apocalyptic movie. We’ve all seen the footage and heard the horror stories. If there’s one common theme running through all of the discussions we’ve had with family and friends back east—and remember, these are people who’ve endured Sandy relatively unscathed—it’s that no amount of footage can do justice to the first-hand reality.

Of everything lost with the exception of lives, and so much was lost, the most tragic has been dreams. Of a better life, one lived far removed from the everyday struggle, adjacent to the magnificent vastness of God’s blue ocean. My parents differed from nobody in their dream to be retired in a house down the shore. That dream has stemmed from childhood for generations of east coasters. Fill in the blank for the beach of choice everyone spent a great portion of their summers—ours was Point Pleasant. The ghosts of our childhood walked on creaky wooden boards and breathed in the salty air and wished it were possible to do this 365 days a year, not just the summer. Those summer days and nights made it possible to endure the less favorable weather detailed above. We chose to opt out, yet I’d always maintained a tinge of jealously when hearing about those days over the past half decade.

The Jersey shore is not damaged—it’s gone. It exists in basements miles away from where it once was, a path of destruction mapping its route. My parents never realized their dream, and now never will. Better that than those who did and watched it wash away.

The east coast deserves our prayers, donations, and empathy. Not just now, in the storm’s immediate aftermath, but indefinitely, when the news cycle has refreshed and our attention is again diverted.

The east coast should inspire us, too. In times like this, it’s common for an area to rally around its collective strength, and as someone with Jersey ties, I can say that strength is real. A few days ago my brother-in-law, after texting me some of the hardships and inconveniences they’ve been enduring, finished with this: “This Thanksgiving is going to be unlike any other.” If he feels that way then we should feel that way ten-fold from here, where the sun shines relentlessly.

Note: This column appears in the 11/8 issue of The Glendale Star and the 11/9 issue of the Peoria Times.

Thursday, November 01, 2012

Spam email of the week

Subject: Your Chinese Partner

When I so much as scroll across this email, I get a pop-up box that reads, "To display language characters correctly you need to install the following language pack: Chinese Simplified." I declined to install a Chinese-to-English software program on my hard drive because, I figure, if anyone is sending me something in Chinese, it is probably irrelevant to me because: ? Nevertheless, even though I did not install the software this email is still strangely legible. Because it is in English. I am confused, yet elated.

Also, I didn't even know I had a Chinese partner. How was this not made known to me earlier, MOM? I have always desired a Chinese partner in some sort of endeavor, so this is very exciting. I wonder what his or her name is. Let me scroll to the bottom ... it's probably something very Chinese ...

Jack Davis
Engineering manager

That is so stereotypically Chinese it's borderline offensive. Oh, you can't spell "sincerely," Jack Davis? Rearry?

Let's take it from the top.

(Friendly note: If you are not the right ones, pls kindly reply simple words like”NO”,thanks.)

It's hard for me to tell if I'm "not the right ones" here at the outset, although considering I was prompted to install language software to decipher this email, it's probably safe to say that I am not the right ones. But let me read the email first and if it doesn't apply to me I will respond with simple words like, "NO." In fact, would it be unimaginative of me to just go with "No" itself as a response? I can't think of any other simple words right now. I also considered not responding at all, but that might send mixed signals. Eh, I'll worry about it later.

Dear Sir,
Thank you for your attention.
Our company is a professional manufacture of plastic, rubber parts from China.

"Plastic, rubber parts" is bolded in blue font for emphasis. There is zero confusion right now that we are talking about plastic, rubber parts as opposed to something else. However, are these parts plastic AND rubber at the same time? That is INSANE.

As you know ,it is low material and cheaper labor in China. I think we can help you to reduce the cost.

Being able to get plastic, rubber parts from China at a reduced cost will greatly help me in my job as publications manager for a local weekly newspaper. "I like this story about the candidate for the district's school board, but where are the plastic, rubber parts?" is something I find myself saying literally every second of every day. This email has nailed it. I AM the ones, it turns out. One question though -- what does "it is low material" mean? Also, what does everything mean that is happening right now?

Besides, our company specialize in moulding ,tooling CNC,machining, we can offer all kinds of plastic produce according to customers' 2D/3D drawing and samples.

Besides, even if you don't need plastic, rubber parts from China, our company also does moulding, tooling CNC, and machining, which are things, I guess. And plastic produce, too. Like plastic lettuce.

I ask this because I don't know: Are there people, like, on earth, responsible for creating 2D and 3D drawings of desirable plastic produce? If so, and if you are one of those people, please leave your name and phone number in the comments because I would like to speak with you at length about this.

If you need,we can quote you a good price.

"If" I need? Pfft. Quote that shizz, yo. I think I speak for everyone when I say I'm tired of having boring old Americans making my plastic, rubber parts at inflated rates. We're about to start a revolution here. Do you guys want to see what the revolution looks like?

It looks like that. Bam. Breathe it in. Not literally; that plastic and rubber is crazy toxic.