Tuesday, December 9, 2008

So I Loaded Up the Truck and I Moved to Beverly...Hills That Is. Swimming Pools. Movie Stars.

Yup, that's right! I'm about to come into untold riches. A life of ease and recreation is right around the corner. Phillip sent me the following email this morning. This is copied and pasted directly from the email, so no creative spelling on my part.

good day my name is mr philip cole from the south africa i will like to
inform you that your email address was among the 50 lucky emails that
was selected under the 17,million us$ contract payment concering the
2010 world cup that is coming up in south africa please keep this
confidential becaurse of some security reasons,And I most not fail to
tell you that this fund will involve a lot of documents so a sum of
$2800, US$ only will be paid by you please bear that in mind before
get back to me but right now you are advice to get back to me along
with your.

1,your full name
2, your mobile phone number
3, your home address
4, your occupation
5, your position
6, your age
7, your sex
8, marital stutus
9, a copy of your international passport
10 your driven license

i am waiting to hear from you as soon as your receive this email

Oops, I was supposed to keep this confidential becaurse of some security reasons. Only I could blow an opportunity like this. Shit!


Eric said...

"Your driven license...."

I want to know what makes a man's license go on like that, what motivates it? When all other licenses would have quit, given up forever, Mr. Cole of the south africa (not merely any of the generic aouth africas, including, presumably, that poseur nation dubbing itself South Africa!) postulates a license that does not buckle, that laughs at mutilation, scoffs at spindling and will never submit to anything as low-class as mere folding.

One suspects a dark history behind the scratched laminate of the driven license. Was it once the license of a spy on some secret assassination mission? The license to manufacture a terrible device of mass destruction? A license to drive owned by a woman who died in a terrible car wreck on a storm-battered highway as she fled from a loveless marriage to the never-to-be-filled-again arms of her tennis instructor?

The driven license will never be loved, never can be loved. Sure, there are countless teenagers who think that if only they had enough time with the driven license, they could pry apart the cold laminate and "get through" to the driven license--and then substitute a photograph taken by one of their friends so they could get into clubs and buy beer and stuff--but that is folly. Folly! The driven license shall never be owned! Shall never be pocketed! Shall always be a law unto itself! The driven license is not to be kept in anybody's pocket.

The driven license has an agenda, a destiny. And Heaven help the one who tries to stand between the driven license and the fleeing registration....

Anonymous said...

And where can I apply for an international passport? Because my US passport is so... passe'.

Ilya said...

Bravo, Eric, as always! I have two license in my pocket and I wonder if one or both of them make me do those evil things I do.

But, honestly, as "you've won millions" emails go, this one is at the moronic edge of the range.

Chris said...

What a fantastic run-on sentence!

Anonymous said...

Haha...I got this email as well, the same day you did. People like this make me sad. It's just so pointless - you would truly have to be a complete and total moron to believe this stuff.