Thursday, August 28, 2014

Spam email of the week

Subject: AN OPPORTUNITY IN MY OFFICE

Sounds like I am being invited into a pornographic movie. Wish me luck!

Dear Friend,

I am Mr. KOH BOON HWEE, Managing Director DBS Bank Ltd, Hong Kong.


Your name is the most absurd ALL CAPS racial stereotype I have read. Were you not managing director of a prestigious bank, I'd be suspicious.

I am contacting you with respect to a portfolio amounting to $30,520,000 USD (Thirty Million, Five Hundred and Twenty Thousand United States Dollar) deposited by a German Merchant named Mr. Jurgen Zimmermann.

Obvs. Bank managers the world over know: when you have questions about a German merchant's financial portfolio, contact Mike. What can I say? It's what I do. (It is not.)

On the 15th of May 2002 Mr. Jurgen Zimmermann deposited $12,000,000 USD (Twelve Million United States Dollars) under our portfolio management department for four years and the deposit matured on the 18th of October 2006 with over 196% growth which amounted to a total of $30,520,000 USD (Thirty Million, Five Hundred and Twenty Thousand United States Dollar).

Where can I find Mr. Jurgen Zimmermann? I would like him to analyze the growth potential of the multiple $50 savings bonds I received for my First Holy Communion that MY MOM idiotically refused to deposit in a Hong Kong bank.

Mr. Jurgen Zimmermann has since passed away

RIP JURGEN ZIMMERMANN

without stating his next of kin because he deposited the funds in our establishment at a point he was finalizing divorcing his wife and had no kids coupled with the fact that he
 was an orphan, this funds has since mature and the roll-over on the funds has also expired.


Jurgen Zimmermann, age unknown. Mr. Zimmermann, a German merchant, which is a thing in 2014, died of unknown causes (though possibly a bomb blaster). An orphan who was never adopted and who basically just graduated the orphanage, Mr. Zimmermann somehow worked his way up the corporate German merchant ladder to the point he made $12 million, which he invested into a diversified portfolio and saw mature to the tune of $30,520,000. One thing that didn't mature, however, was his relationship with his gold digger wife, who couldn't even bear children on account of not being real. Mr. Zimmermann will always be remembered by ... people, we guess, and for his love of "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" which is a great show he probably watched. In lieu of flowers, please do nothing. This is a dream.

This sum of $30,520,000 USD (Thirty Million, Five Hundred and Twenty Thousand United States Dollar) is still in my possession in my Bank lifeless and unnoticed because there will never be a claim on the funds and all material and immaterial documents and certificates relating to the funds is also in my possession.

There is nothing sadder than a humongous pile of money that is lifeless and unloved because no one will claim it. Somewhere, Mr. KOH BOON HWEE is wasting away the hours diving into a sea of cash, Scrooge McDuck-style, in a pitch black room while also crying. It's almost as if the money is an orphan just like Mr. Zimmermann and oh man now I am going to cry.

According to the Hong Kong Law

Something I am well-versed in so DON'T FRONT.

regulating cases of this nature which is also typical to other Asian countries, at the expiration of 7(seven) years, such funds will revert to the ownership of the Government for financing military operations, such as purchasing of arms and ammunitions for the military.

AIN'T TRYING TO SEE CHINA REINFORCE ITS DEFENSE, SON. What can I do?

In order to avert this negative development, I will like to seek for your permission as a foreigner to stand as the next of kin to Mr. Jurgen Zimmermann so that the fruits of this old man's

*dead* man's

That was my first order of business as his, ummm ... son.

labor will not be use for financing weapons which will further enhance the courses of war in the world in general.

Yes, fine - I will take the $30 million in the interest of world peace. It's what dead Jurgen dad - which is what I call him, affectionately - would have wanted.

The money will be paid into your account for us to share in the ratio of 60% for me and 35% for you and the balance of 5% for will be responsible for the major /trivial expenses incurred in the course of the transaction.

There is no trivial expense when it comes to honoring the memory of Mr. Jurgen Zimmermann. For example, I have already spent $12,000 on unlimited massages at Massage Envy to relieve the stress of this money transfer, so please take that out of the five percent or whatever.

There is no risk at all as all the paperwork for this project will be done by my attorney

Me: Babe, great news. Copped a cool $11 mill just by checking my email. Looks like we goin' on that Rick Springfield cruise after all ... (raises roof) (twerks)

Wife: (rolls eyes) Wonderful. How did it happen this time?

Me: Mr. Jurgen Zimmermann died. The German merchant. I just have to pretend he was my dad or whatever.

Wife: Honey, I hate to see you get your hopes up again after deals like this have fallen through so many times. Are you absolutely sure this is legit?

Me: Oh no doubt. Mr. KOH BOON HWEE's lawyer is doing all the paperwork. He's a lawyer, babe.

Wife: Oh, well in that case ...

and with my position as the credit officer guarantees the successful execution of this project. 

Me: Plus Mr. KOH BOON HWEE himself is the credit officer. It's like, pfffffttt. This b*tch is failproof.

Wife: ...

Me: Ya' know, sometimes I wish you would just trust me.

Upon your response, I shall then provide you with further information's and modalities that will help you understand the transaction.

Yes, please do that. For I am but an unfrozen caveman email user. I am unfamiliar with your "transactions" and "modalities."

You should observe utmost confidentiality, and rest assured that this project would be most profitable for both parties because I shall require your assistance to invest my share in your country.

Oh snap, Mr. KOH BOON HWEE's going to invest his share in 'Merica? USA! USA! USA! Mr. KOH BOON HWEE and I are basically saving the country o'er here. What about you, OBAMA?

Awaiting your urgent reply.

Thanks and regards,

Mr. KOH BOON HWE.


I see you dropped the extra E off your last name and replaced it with a period. Very profesh. Smart move. You know, for your brand. Speaking of your brand, I thought of a cool tagline for every time a super-rich orphan German merchant dies and we get the money: KOH BOON, son!

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Tool time: Jack of no trades, master of none consolidates

I currently have something I never thought I’d have: a toolbox. For tools.

Because I already had a toolbox, only it was filled with medicine, almost all of which expired in 2007. When we became foster parents, it was required that we have all our medication locked up and secured. Looking for something to do just that, my wife and I stumbled on a traditional ol’ toolbox. I said, “This will work! Plus one day maybe I can actually use it for tools HA HA HA this will be for medication.”

But the joke is on me because now I have a tool-toolbox. We were in the process of going through some house junk, and I thought it would be a good idea to go through the medicine toolbox and throw out the ear drop medication my wife brought to Arizona from New Jersey seven years ago and a huge box of DayQuil that only had one DayQuil in it that was four years expired and also everything in the box. Staring at the empty toolbox, I took a deep breath and with a lump in my throat said to myself, “Now is the time.”

I knew the day would come; I just didn’t expect it to come so soon.

But listen, I want to be clear—I didn’t do this for me. I did it for the manly men I am related to who come to our house occasionally to visit but also to fix things. It used to be kind of funny when, having asked my dad or father-in-law or my wife’s uncle to fix something in the house, they would say, “Where does Mike keep his tools?” and we would laugh and laugh and laugh.

But all of a sudden that stopped being funny for some reason.

Uncle Paul: No, seriously. I cannot do this without tools.

Me: Random tools are scattered throughout all four corners of the house and also in the garage. I typically leave them in the spot I last failed at fixing what was there, so it’s probably nearby.

Uncle Paul: I just need a socket wrench—where do you keep that?

Me: I am honestly unsure if you are joking and making fun of me or if a ‘socket wrench’ is an actual thing. But to answer your question: no. I mean, I don’t know. I mean, what?

For the benefit of being able to continue having things fixed, I figured consolidating tools would be a good idea. And I was surprised at how many tools I had considering I have never purchased a tool in my life. Every tool I own—save for the mini screwdriver I was forced to buy to replace the batteries in a pink teapot that plays music—have been purchased for me as a means of goading me into learning how to do stuff, despite the fact I am 36 and have resisted this long. I think I had four straight birthdays where my father-in-law’s gift to me was a set of tools, all of which have remained in plastic except for the ones my father-in-law himself was forced to open when we asked him to fix something. “Oh, I see you’ve enjoyed the socket wrenches I got you in 2005.” (In my defense, you need a tool to open those things!)

ANYWAY, it’s all in the there now: screwdrivers, a hammer, measuring tape, some screws (for the screwdrivers), a thingee, pliers, electrical tape, a whole bunch of nutbolts (?) or something that apparently go with a tool I either don’t have or can’t find, a stud finder that I keep forgetting to put on me and make a beeping sound to make my wife roll her eyes, and a bunch of stuff that looks tool-y even though I have no idea what it is.

Now nobody can complain when we invite them to our house for the sole reason of fixing stuff as I pretend to watch and learn while instead managing my fantasy sports teams on my phone. I am 36.

Note: This column appears in the 8/28 issue of The Glendale Star and the 8/29 issue of the Peoria Times.

Friday, August 22, 2014

Spam email of the week

Subject: Dokumenty

HA HA spell much?

Fahrenheit 9/11 outtakes

"My name is Michael Moore, and I'm making a dokumenty about ... pfffffffffff HA HA! Did I just say 'dokumenty?' Cut, cut! I'm not awake yet, guys. Someone get me my coffee! Oh man ... that was hilarious."

Witam,

OR: "Mike." Almost though!

Zwracam się z zapytaniem w imieniu internetowego serwisu tłumaczeniowego.

So far this dokumenty is confusing.

Polscy przedsiębiorcy szukają dobrych jakościowo tłumaczeń w związku z rosnącym eksportem i chęcią nawiązywania międzynarodowej współpracy.

What? Are you serious? I am never eating at McDonald's again, for real.

Chciałem się zapytać czy mogę przedstawić ofertę na usługi tłumaczeń pisemnych?

Is that a rhetorical question or do you want an answer?

Yes? No wait. No. No?

Pozdrawiam,
Bartosz Mazur


I feel like maybe I don't know what this email is trying to convey or who you are or what this dokumenty is about. What is your deal, anyway, Bartosz?

Senior Account Manager

Oh. See that I understood. Do you want to start over and do the whole email in that language so maybe I can respond appropriately? No? OK that's cool, too. What company do you work for?

wordswork.pl

"ISN'T IT IRONIC?" - Alanis Przedstawić

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Spam email of the week

Feeling lonely. Wishing someone could introduce me to some products. (logs on to email)

Subject: Introduction of products

(pumps fist)

Dear Sir/Madam,

Dear [GENDER UNKNOWN],

I am a dude, btw, fwiw.

We are Box Marsh located In Pakistan  City, Sialkot, specialize in exporting various type of garment.

Nice to meet you, Box Marsh! May I also add that you specialize in grabbing my attention :0 :) ;)

Our main products are Martial Arts Uniforms,Boxing Gloves, Mixed Martial Arts Equipments, Protectors Wooden Weapon and relative products.

Here's the thing about email that makes it so great. Let's say I'm a [GENDER UNKNOWN], just sitting here wanting to do martial arts but I don't have a uniform. Also, what about equipments? You can't just do martial arts without equipments. And it's like, all of my martial arts friends ALREADY have protectors wooden weapon, so all of my martial arts moves - performed naked and without equipments because, again, I have no uniform or equipments - are useless because they are protected by their protectors wooden weapons. I have splinters from their protectors wooden weapons in my butt and stuff, and as a result, I am sad. Plus, to top it all off, I need relative products. All seems lost. But then I get this email.

We are proud of our highly experienced, skilled staffs who work very hard for the development of the company and meeting customers’ demand in an effective way.

If I were Box Marsh, I would be most proud of the staff(s) who put this email together because it is fine and wonderful.

Our aim is to serve customers and make sure that they are comfortable and satisfied with our products and services.

If "Protectors Wooden Weapon" doesn't elicit a strong sense of comfort, then you are barking up the wrong customer tree.

We like to work on demands.

BOX MARSH: WE LIKE TO WORK ON DEMANDS.

Bam, there it is, your new slogan. You're welcome. Says it all. All other Box Marsh-related words are superfluous. But just in case, let's hear more.

Please visit our online website www.boxmarsh.com  and mentioned us your interested items.

Holy **** you just killed grammar. Grammar is dead. GO HOME EVERYONE, GRAMMAR HAS DIED. Time of death: now. Victim: Grammar. Suspect: Box Marsh. RIP GRAMMAR, SEE YOU AT THE CROSSROADS.

Also, I went on your website. The headline is "Box Marsh, Manufacturer & Exporter of Boxing Equipments." I have bookmarked it for two reasons: a) as a general source for all my boxing equipments needs, and b) specifically to browse "MMA RASH GUARDS" when I am feeling down. But what if I still have questions?

If you don't find what you need on our website...e-mail us boxmarsh@gmail.com  , and one of our friendly, knowledgeable Person will be happy to help you.

Thank you. It is indeed comforting to know that within a company as big and Pakistani as Box Marsh, you can still reach a friendly Person (whose name is Person, we can assume) when you want to order a Protectors Wooden Weapon to ward off oncomers. DON'T YOU GO CHANGIN' BOX MARSH.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Erring my way through errant errands

I went out to run errands during my lunch hour at work. Those errands were:

•    Get an iced coffee (not really an errand; bear with me)
•    Drop off donations at St. Vincent de Paul
•    Get money out of ATM for babysitter

I arrived at the Dunkin’ Donuts drive-thru speaker. Here was that conversation:

Speaker: Welcome to Dunkin’ Donuts … (shuffling noises)

Me: (waiting for them to follow up with “Can I help you?” so I know it’s OK to speak)

Speaker: …

Me: …

Speaker: …

Me: Uhhh, can I get a-

Speaker: How can I help you?

Me: Yes, can I get a medium iced coffee, easy cream, NO sugar.

Speaker: You uh … want cream?

Me: Yes, but not a lot. ‘Easy cream’ is what I’ve been instructed to say by other locations, ha.

Speaker: $1.08.

I pull through. The worker puts my coffee near the window while he goes to the register and I take a look at the coffee and it looks good. They nailed the cream-to-coffee ratio. I look up at the worker and he, apparently watching me looking at the coffee, has his eyes locked on mine and does not look happy. He honestly looks like he wants to kill me. Murder me, hard. I do not know why, and I am paralyzed by confusion and yes, a little bit of fear because he kind of looks like Meatloaf, only angrier. We make the money transaction as he maintains eye contact, and I don’t know what is happening. I have obviously offended him but I do not know how.

As good as the coffee looks, can I drink it? Was my staring at the coffee what prompted his hate or did he hate me from the start? If the latter, is this coffee safe? Is this how I am going to die, drinking contaminated iced coffee? I subconsciously began drinking the coffee while contemplating all this because I am an idiot, and it was OK. I didn’t die. Cool. Off to St. Vincent de Paul!

All I had to drop off were some old clothes and a planter. Because if there’s anything the less fortunate need, it’s oddly-formed v-neck T-shirts with “bacon-ing” collars and a pot to display one of their wide array of plants. The man working there handed me my receipt—“Dear IRS, today I donated some old T-shirts and planters to SVDP; please reimburse me accordingly”—and when I went to close my trunk, I noticed that excess dirt from the planter had gotten all over the inside of my car. (To answer your question, yes—I neglected to adequately wash the planter before donating, figuring some excess dirt would let people know what this thing even is and besides, dirt is going back in anyway.)

Now the easy part—going to the ATM. My wife had somehow managed to arrange a date night for us, and we would need to pay the babysitter with money and not unused planters, as I had originally suggested. I put my card in and, as I waited for it to pop back out so I could enter my PIN, I heard a crunch and the screen displayed the following message: WE HAVE DESTROYED YOUR CARD FOR SECURITY PURPOSES. PLEASE CALL CUSTOMER SERVICE FOR FURTHER ASSISTANCE.

I didn’t know why this happened, but suspected the Dunkin’ Donuts guy was involved. I parked and walked into the bank to find out what happened. Their answer was they did not know, but would I like to refinance my mortgage? When I got back to my car after accomplishing nothing, my iced coffee was lukewarm water coffee because it was 115 degrees outside. While pulling out of my spot, I drove over the curb.

So everything worked out as planned, except for the fourth errand—accomplish first three errands seamlessly—which I didn’t do because I am an idiot. But hey, like Meatloaf always said, three out of four ain’t bad.

Note: This column appears in the 8/21 issue of The Glendale Star and the 8/22 issue of the Peoria Times.

Friday, August 15, 2014

Spam email of the week

Subject: DRIVE YOUR CAR AND GET PAID ADVERTISING FOR JetBlue Airlines. ($400 Weekly)

The way I know this is not spam is because:

From: ©JetBlue Airlines Advertisment™   [ulyssesrhg@gmail.com]

Totes legit to quit. What's up, Ulysses?

We got your email address through a local Business directory on the web. We must apologise for taking some of your valuable time to explain a proposal that will imagine will be of utmost benefit.

Please, Ulysses - any email that invites me to get paid for driving an advertising car is never a waste of time. You write well.

We are currently seeking individuals Strictly in the United State who would like to make money by simply driving their vehicle advertising for JetBlue Airlines. This is in our view to create more awairness and attract more customers to be willing to patronise us for local and international flights.

You have explained well the general purpose of advertising. Also, I must now add to my list of "Benefits of being born in the United State(s)":

  • You can be president
  • Freedom
  • You can drive a JetBlue advertising car

This is a basic strategy of the "pay me to drive" concept: JetBlue Airlines seeks people, regular citizens, professional drivers and more to go about their normal routine, only with a small advert for "JetBlue Airlines" plastered on their vehicle.

"Small" and "plastered" seem at odds in the description department. So like a bumper sticker?

The advert are typically vinyl decals, also known as "auto wraps" that almost seem to be painted on the vehicle, and which will cover any and little portion of the vehicle's exterior surface.

Oh you mean "small" like "auto wrap," like my entire vehicle will be a JetBlue advertisement and I will have to register my vehicle as "commercial" and everyone will be well aware I've sacrificed my dignity for an extra $400 a week which will actually be zero dollars a week because this is nonsense.

This strategy gives JetBlue Airlines Lots of exposure and awareness. The auto wrap tend to be colorful, eye-catching and attract lots of attention. Plus, it's a form of advertising with a captive audience eye catching, people who are stuck in traffic can't avoid seeing the wrapped car alongside them.

I feel like I've just graduated from advertising school, and also grammar school. I can picture it now:

Husband and wife stuck in traffic

Husband: I'm sick of traffic! Stupid cars! We should fly somewhere. On a plane. But what airline should we use?

Wife: I don't know anything about anything.

Husband: Hey, check out that toolbag driving that eye-catching car over there. It has definitely caught my eye. What a toolbag though.

Wife: I hate him.

Husband: "JetBlue." Huh. I wonder what their deal is. I heard about them on the news. Terrible things.

Wife: They only fly to like three airports.

Husband: ...

Wife: ...

Husband: I'm in love with your sister.

This program will last for as long as you want it and the minimum you can participate is 2 months and you get paid weekly, also individual with two or more vehicle can only participate once and with one vehicle at a time.

Darn I was hoping our JetBlue family could have a garage full of JetBlue cars that pay for themselves and maybe finally people would respect us. When I want to end the program who will turn my JetBlue vehicle back to normal? My car is leased.

You will be compensated with $400 per week which is essentially a rental payment for letting JetBlue Airlines use the space on your vehicle, no fee is required from you. We have experts that would handle the advert placement on your vehicle. You will receive an upfront payment of $400 inform of check via courier service for accepting to carry this advert on your vehicle.

Wow, you are giving me so much money for nothing I should call you Ulysses S. Grant LOL. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha seriously though you are terrible and I hate you.

(Sign me up though.) (JetBlue for LIFE, son.)

UPDATE:


Thursday, August 14, 2014

Spam email of the week

Subject: Catalogues of Stone and Concrete Diamond grinding polishing tools, Diamond polishing pads, Backer pads and Accessories, Polishing machines, Stone installation tools, Stone carry tools

I wonder what this is about. The subject is vague.

Hi, Dear Manager

Hi, dear robot.

How are you?

I am ... okay. A little on the groggy side, but ... okay.

Glad to introduce to you our High quality Stone and Concrete Diamond grinding polishing tools, Backer pads and Accessories, Polishing machines, Stone installation tools, Stone carry tools.

If you were to ask me how I am doing now I would say a-MA-zing because I have been looking to acquire a high quality concrete diamond grinding polishing tool for a hot minute, but nobody was emailing me and I didn't know where to turn.

Enclosed are the catalogues for various of the grinding and polishing tools.

First, great sentence. A-plus sentence. Also, I just want to mention that robot dude here is NOT kidding - there are approximately 170 pdf attachments to this email, and one of them is titled "Brushes." I am most intrigued, however, with "Stone installation carry tools" because, like many, I love to install stone but often lack the means to transport the stone and the tools to install it. (Sorry, just realized I dropped a #stonecarryproblems.)


This pdf is extremely helpful because one of my major questions going into this was "How many snatches is the Pump Action Sucker? No, not that Pump Action Sucker, the one with the Iron Handle." The answer, of course, is 240kgs. Of snatches? For the 200mm. I don't know.

Kindly contact me if you have any questions.

Are snatches a British unit of measurement?

It is our pleasure to be on service of you.

Come again?

It is our pleasure to be on service of you.

I'm sorry, I just-

It is our pleasure to be on service of you.

Did we just have sex?

Looking forward to your kind and prompt reply.

Please remove me from your mailing list.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Clever work mantra compromises family jewels

It’s been established that I don’t know how to do anything handy. We know this. That doesn’t mean, however, that I can’t do anything that falls under the umbrella of “things men are supposed to do.”

For example, I can move things. Like, from here to there. I can pick it up and move it.

It should probably be mentioned that even in this endeavor, I fail at the nuances of doing it well. Once while moving a desk I accidentally ripped the top off because I was holding it by the lip, an act that couldn’t support the weight of the base underneath. (As embarrassing as that is to admit, I’m quite proud of myself for even identifying that part of the desk as the lip without having to Google “what’s that part of the edge of a desk that just begs you to lift from there?” It is called the lip, right? Forget it.)

I distinctly remember, years ago, helping my dad and his friends put together a shed in my parents’ backyard. Everyone’s confidence in my and my cousin John’s ability to do the technical work was evidenced in the jobs we were given.

“Why don’t you guys, uh ... go throw all this garbage out at the dump.”

Both of us? Shouldn’t one of us stay here to hel-”

“Nope, we’re good.”

At one point however, it was necessary—because even then my dad’s friends, like my dad, were super old and feeble—that a younger man’s strength and energy were needed to lift something. It involved moving a heavy piece of the shed into the part of the shed that was already constructed for reasons that escape me. Anyway, me and my dad’s buddy “Fish” (the gap in manliness between me and my dad is most apparent in the fact that I have no friends named Fish or friends who actually fish, which all my dad’s friends do) were moving the piece together. We soon reached a difficult point where we couldn’t proceed further because the piece wouldn’t fit.

My strategy in the moment—no doubt influenced by a youthful burst of frustration and testosterone—was to keep jamming the piece into the shed wall to make it fit. Fish, somehow patiently restraining from yelling “JIMINY CHISTMAS, STOP IT YOU FOOL” despite being drenched in sweat while trying to hold up his side, said, “Whoa, whoa, put her down. Let’s work smarter, not harder.”

It was the first time I had ever heard that phrase, and my mind was BLOWN. For one thing, it kind of rhymed. Also, Fish was acknowledging that I was working hard, which made me feel good, and also that I was dumb, which I was/am. I vowed right then and there to always work smarter, not harder, and some day impart that beautiful piece of wisdom on to one of my … friend’s kids, or whatever.

Which brings me to last week. We were having our house painted—another not so technical thing I think I can do but really can’t, which is why we hired someone—and I needed to help my wife move her treasured and very heavy floor-based jewelry box out of the painter’s way for the next day’s work. Before she could get out the words “be careful” I had already used my blind, brute force to pick up my side before she had hers secured and we instantly heard the leg crack off.

“What happened?” I wondered. I definitely had worked harder, not smarter, living by the phrase I had heard so many years ago and remembered quite well. But then a more apropos mantra dawned on me—never listen to a guy named Fish.

Note: This column appears in the 8/14 issue of The Glendale Star and the 8/15 issue of the Peoria Times.

Friday, August 08, 2014

Spam email of the week

Subject: New TV Casting: Cash In Your Life $$$

"Cash In Your Life (dollar signs)" is a show I will sacrifice everything to be on.

New Television Casting for: Ca$h In Your Life

Got it.

NEW TV #CASTING: Cash In Your Life


OK.



A new television series

Family Ties? J/k it's: Cash In Your Life

is seeking out couples and families for a chance to cash in their lives for a fresh start!

So let me get this straight. I cash in my life - like you take my life and give me money for it, and then I am dead (bad) but have money (good) - and then I get a fresh start? As a rich dead person? Is this "Weekend at Bernie's III: The Musical?"

Have you always wondered, what if? What if you had followed your dreams? What if you no longer had the job you don't love?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FdD6RMICpfg&feature=kp

What if you had followed your dreams
What if you no longer had the job you didn't love
What if you should decide
That you want to cash in your life
For a show called Ca$h In Your Life
Ooh ooh-ooh, that's right
Let's take a brave jump over the side

Maybe your real calling is to open up a bed & breakfast, a boutique, or run a yacht charter.

Well yeah, sure, no doubt my calling is to run a yacht charter. That would be wonderful, obvs. But it's like, add me to the list of people whose dream it is to run a yacht charter, you know? I mean, you could graduate with honors from the best yacht charter school around (University of Phoenix Online Yacht Charter School) which, you know, I did - just sayin' - but you still have to know someone to get your foot in the door. It's all politics. And I have a family to raise. I had to make sacrifices. I'm not bitter though.

Whatever your dream may be,

My dream is to run a yacht charter.

we are ready to pull out the stops, appraise your life, and offer you a check to cash in and start the life you have always wanted.

Please appraise my life and inform me if I am worth enough to go back in time to run a yacht charter school. Do I have to start as a baby again? I am going to be one impatient-ass baby, knowing that a yacht charter gig awaits but I have to go through all the bells and whistles of growing up and establishing bonds unrelated to yacht chartering. Unless:

BABY-RUN YACHT CHARTER

Doron Ofir Casting is on a nationwide search for couples that are tired of being in the same old rut, with the same old job and want to find out what their lives are really worth!

Me: Babe. You're not going to believe this!

Wife: What?

Me: Doron Ofir Casting is on a nationwide search for couples that are tired of being in the same old rut and they're going to turn them into babies again and give them money or whatever and then we can finally start BABY-RUN YACHT CHARTER.

Wife: I'm sorry - "same old rut?"

Me: Hey, listen - I told you when we got married that if the chance ever arose for me to cash in my life and finally fulfill my dream of chartering yachts, I would jump. You just never thought it would happen.

Wife: I'm going to bed.

Me: By "bed" do you mean "rut?" SEE WHAT I MEAN.

If you are finally ready to roll the dice and turn your fantasy into reality then apply now at:

www.cashinyourlifecasting.com


(logs on to Internet, applies)

(auditions, rejected as life is valued at $3.75 - insufficient for yacht charter deposit - although immeasurable in factors of love, joy, inner peace)


THE DREAM IS DEAD.

Thursday, August 07, 2014

Spam email of the week

Subject: Global Foods USA

I like my coffee black, my women feisty, and my food global but also from the motha truckin' U S of A.

Dear Sirs,

My name is Mike. (looks around) No one else is h-

Hope you doing well.

Me is. Thank you.

Please kindly find our Special offer for  Rice as follows i.e :

Am I being kindly offered a special deal on rice right now? If you have Basmati rice I am going to crap my pants. With excitement. But also for real.

Basmati Rice :

Pure Basmati Rice from the foothills of Himalaya


My friend and I frequently joke that you can't call it Basmati rice if it ain't from the Himalayas. My friend is imaginary. How much for the pure sh*t?

Product Code : GBR 30

Packing 30lb

Price : US$ 52.82/ BAG


That is a good deal. Is 30 pounds of rice enough though? I live alone.

1121 Basmati  Parboiled Rice

I was actually thinking that I might be better off with Basmati parboiled rice.

Pure Basmati Rice from  Indian Sub Continent, Longest Grain Available in the World

Why don't we head back to my sub continent and I'll show you the largest grain available in the world? (from my new comedy album, "Rice Penis Metaphor Jokes," feat. CONDO-lease-a-Rice)

Product Code : G1121- 30

Packing 30lb

Price : US$ 62.82/ BAG


You pay extra for the parboiling every time, but it's worth it.

Long Grain White  Rice

Classic. Sometimes you just wanna slide on a pair of blue jeans, throw on some Norah Jones, and order a 30-pound bag of long grain white rice.

Product Code : GGR- 30

Packing 30lb

Price : US$ 40.80/ BAG


Honestly this feels like stealing at these p-rices.

Long Grain Parboiled  Rice

Now this ... this is just cray. Who came up with this? Fire him immediately. Actually? Promote him. THIS JUST MIGHT BE CRAZY ENOUGH TO WORK.

Product Code : GPR- 30

Packing 30lb

Price : US$ 44.80/ BAG


Please let us know your requirement by email info@globalfoodsusa.com or by  Fax: 1-864-751-5791

(jams machine at work attempting to manually fax in order to "Muhammad Faheem" for multiple 30-pound bags of rice) (turns to coworkers patiently waiting to use fax machine) What? OH LIKE YOU GUYS DON'T USE THIS FOR PERSONAL STUFF.

Thanks

M Faheem

Global Foods USA


No, Muhammad Faheem - thank YOU. You've restored my faith in being able to receive unsolicited emails to purchase rice. I ... I love you.

Tuesday, August 05, 2014

Prayer for a decent prayer

My wife and I have been trying to get our girls into the habit of praying before bed. The results have mostly been … disappointing. And strange. Granted, prayer isn’t an easy thing for even a mature adult to grasp, and we certainly don’t expect a 4- and almost 5-year-old to fully understand what they’re doing. But we thought it’d better than this:

Me: OK, girls, time to pray. Kneel by your beds.

Girl 1: Mommy lets us lay down.

Me: (looks at wife)

Wife: ONE time I let you do that. Just do what Dad tells you to do, OK?

Girl 2: Daddy, look at my boo-boo. It looks like a castle-farm.

Me: A what? Just—girls, focus. And kneel, please. Now who wants to go first?

Girls: (in unison) Me me me me me me me!

Me: (to girl 2) Why don’t you go first tonight, OK?

Girl 1: (panicked) I never go first and she went first the other time and you promised me I could go first and you guys are so rude!

Wife: (to girl 1) PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER AND KNEEL DOWN AND PAY ATTENTION.

Girl 1: (covers head with arms defiantly, whimpers)

Me: (to girl 2) Go ahead.

Girl 2: In da name a da Fadda, anofda Son, anofda Holy Spirit, amen. Dear God, thank you for my … uhhh … (looking around room) … Dora light, and my … blue wall, and my … (looking) … Mommy’s glasses, and-

Me: Honey, we’ve talked about this. Don’t just look around the room and start naming things. Try and think about what you’re really thankful for, OK?

Girl 2: In da name a da Fadd-

Me: Honey, you don’t have to start over again.

Girl 2: Oh. Thank you God for … my teachers … and my playground, and … (dog saunters into room) … Mac’s treats, but I can’t give them to him because I throw them and they go under the door and he can’t find them.

Girl 1: Ugh, that’s so weird.

Wife: GIRLS, focus.

Girl 2: And Casey at school has an owl shirt.

Me: OK, I think you’re done. Thank you. That was … something. Alright (looks to girl 1), you’re up.

Girl 1: Thank you God for my Mommy and Daddy, and sister, and brother Mac … (looks at dog, who his licking himself) … Ewwww! Do you see what Mac is doing? He’s licking his-

Wife: GIRLS.

Girl 1: Ugh, this is too hard. (slumps down and lies on floor)

Me: Get up – you’re being disrespectful to God.

Girl 1: (laying)

Me: Get up NOW.

Girl 1: (laying)

Wife: YOU HAVE ONE SECOND TO GET UP OR YOU CAN SAY GOODBYE TO STORY AND CUDDLE TIME.

Girl 1: (springs up) I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, no Mommy, no, you promised us you’d read Purplicious you promised, you promised!

Me: Just calm down and finish your prayers.

Girl 1: And thank you God for my beautiful Mommy who always tells us stories and cuddles us and we love her, the end. I mean, inthenameoftheFather-Son-HolySpiritAmen.

Wife: Hmpf.

Me: Good night, girls, love you.

Girl 2: DAD …

Me: Yeeees?

Girl 2: Tomorrow for prayers I’m gonna thank God for … you have cooties.

Girls: (laugh hysterically)

Me: Thank you. But tomorrow we’re going to go over what “reverence” means again.

Girl 1: He said “frevince.” Doesn’t make any sense, Dad, that’s weird.

Girl 2: You’re weird.

Girls: (laugh hysterically)

Wife: GIRLS, lay down. (to me) I’ll see you downstairs. We’re watching “The Soup,” right?

Me: Amen.

Note: This column appears in the 8/7 issue of The Glendale Star and the 8/8 issue of the Peoria Times.

Friday, August 01, 2014

Spam email of the week

Subject: VL:  shortest delivery time

I don't care how you get here (or what you are)
Just get here if you can (shortest delivery time)

Nice day to you friend,o(≧v≦)o~~

I don't know what emotion that is trying to conv-

Here below are our latest information for Wuhan New G603, welcome to check as quality reference.

OK.

Our advantage of G603:
●Good news!!!  To celebrate our start for new factory and quarry of G603, now we have stock for G603 slabs size in 240upx70upx2cm and 240upx70upx3cm are under selling, quality is as good as before and price will be also attractive..


Good news? More like GREAT news! About to get my G603 slab on. But wait, hold up - didn't Wuhan New G603 experience some problems in the past? I remember at the time feeling very o(≧v≦)o~~ about that.

● No delivery time problems any more: apart from our own quarry in Wuhan, we have our own factories and several cooperated factories help us manufacturing. Delivery time should be put off a lot if buy from other trade company. And in fact, there are many companies from China are also purchasing from our company. Our shortest delivery time for 2x20'container is 10-15days.

What do we want?

2X20-FOOT CONTAINER SLAB THINGS

When do we want 'em?

IN 10-15 DAYS

Delivery time should be put off a lot if buy from other trade company.

Other trade company be like, "Whaaaaaaa? OH NO HE D'-ANT." But the thing is, oh yes - he did. Other trade company just got served.

● No LCL problems any more: brought in machine for big slabs in Wuhan factory, big slabs can be exported toghther with other products from Wuhan port.

It seems like Wuhan New G603 has experienced mad problems in the past, son, and I'm wondering if this email is part of some extremely well put together PR campaign trying to convince me - your average Joe slab purchaser - that everything is OK. I am going to tread lightly here.

● Most favorable price: our best price for G603 will be last until the end of this month, due to we are willing to offer the biggest support for our customers to test market acceptance of new G603 in their market.

Forget it, I'm all in. SOLD. Those words made too much sense not to convince me. It was borderline spiritual. After all, the Wuhan bible states: "the best price shall be last and the worst price shall be first (until the end of this month)."

Here's the thing though - and I'm not trying to be rude - but do you have photographic evidence that you carry the type of slabs I am looking for? I am quite picky when it comes to slabs. I like them grey and extra slabby.


OH SNAP

*Missy Elliot voice*

GET YOUR SLAB ON

GET-GET YOUR SLAB ON



#SLABLIFE

CRATE 'EM UP, YO


LOAD 'EM ON THE SLAB TRUCK - SEE YOU IN 10-15 DAYS, SLABS


OOPS, NSFW

So, if you are worring about delivery time, or searching for a professional supplier for new G603, hurry to contact with Connie. Our company and I will offer our biggest support for you!

Wait, I just realized I don't need any slabs. This is a newspaper.

Well, waiting for your news.

Dang, Wuhan, chill! This is some serious #slabpressure. OK fine, I'll take all the slabs. #slabking