Oh, go kiss a frog already

Happy CoupleI’ve written about my junk mail before but lately it’s taken over all of my www-reading attention. For a few weeks every time I click open my Junk Inbox I find yet another woman who has never met me, never even seen me …

… but wants me. Baaaaaaaaaaad.

They can just feel it, every single one of them – that I’m the one. And they know this even though every one of them is writing me from aaaaaaaaaaaall the way in the Ukraine. I may be a little long in the tooth and short on stature, but they don’t know it nor care.

Sheesh – all of this admiration-from-afar is tough, I tell you. I’ve nearly had to splint my left-side mouse button finger, just from deleting all of them off.

Maybe Ukrainian men are more earthy, less refined than us American guys. And seems prone to being a tad generous when estimating their uh, manhood too.

Maybe Ukrainian men are more earthy, less refined than us American guys. Sure seem prone to being a tad generous when estimating their manhood too.

Yup, they know I’m their guy. Or so they tell me. But don’t take my word for it. For example, meet the most recent admirer-de-jour – Anny, or maybe as her close friends call her – Any.

“Hi, Mike”
(OK, so there’s a small issue with my name. What do you expect from a woman who spells her own name two different ways in the same email? Probably a Ukrainian cultural thing.)
“We’ve got only one life to live and I want to live it as good a I can.”
(It’s good to have a life plan. Admirable.)
“I’ve found you and now I can’t imagine how I lived without you for my entire life?!”
(Aw, shucks. I’m sure it wasn’t hard living all this time without me. Hellish, certainly. But probably not that hard.)
“I want to get used to you, I want to learn you, I want to accept you as you are.”
(Uh, OK. So, just exactly what do you mean by ‘learn you’? Not judging of course, just wondering.)
“I try to imagine you and in my own imagination I am already getting used to you: I am used to your eyes, soft and wise, to your hands, to your gentle touch. I haven’t seen you in real life, but inside, in my soul, I already feel how warm and happy your heart can be just from love.”
(My, see me blush. You Ukrainian women sure have a rather direct way about you, don’t you? That’s one powerful soul, er, imagination you got there.)
“I realize that there can be another sitting by your side, touching your hair, watching you, hugging you.”
(Damn, am I glad you brought my wife up here. Thanks, it sure spares me from one of those, shall we say, awkward moments.)
“However I know that, you can’t imagine my confidence, but I know that we can match. I don’t think our silence will help us, so I am here, at (web address.ua), and I hope that you will touch my heart with your letter soon, my dear. Yourth faithfully, Any.”

Count on it, my dearest Anny/Any. You just keep checking yourth mailbox. The letter’s in the mail.

You’ve got mail …

a burkina faso mailboxMy favorite folder in my Inbox isn’t my Inbox. It’s my Junk folder. That’s where my best email ends up.

Where else can you go to find a good woman (Russian brides! Cheap!), the means to keep her satisfied (Canadian Viagra! Cheap!), and all the free and easy money you’ll ever need to fly to Siberia and sweep her right out of the arms of the Russian mobster who has her chained to a laptop in an Internet café.

You don’t believe me, do you.  Here, in all of its absolutely uncensored, uncut, unedited, un-spellchecked splendor, is my latest ticket straight to the tippy-top of the 1 percent. Read on and weep:

MY DEAREST I NEED YOUR HELP AND ASSISTANT.

My Dearest,

It is with profound respect and humble submission, I beg to state the following few lines for your kind consideration. I hope you will spare some of your valuable minutes to read the following appeal with sympathetic mind. I must confess that it is with great hope, joy and enthusiasm to write you this mail and I believe by the faith that it must surely find you in good condition of health. My name is Vivian John Paul Oulu 24 years old female from the Republic of Kenya, the daughter of Late Mr. John Paul Oulu. My late father was a Kenyan lawyer and human rights activist who was the Chief Executive Officer and Communications and Advocacy Officer of the Oscar Foundation Free Legal Aid Clinic Kenya (OFFLACK) [Blogger’s note: OFFLACK? Aren’t those the insurance guys with the duck? Cool.] My Father was brutally shot dead on Thursday 5Th March 2009 after a government spokesman accused their group of aiding a criminal gang. What led to the cold blood killing is still unclear but I know that my father life was the target. You can read more about my father in the BBC link below. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/ africa/7927873.stm

After the death of my beloved father my wicked step mother along with my uncles team together and sold everything that my late father had and share the money within themselves, I lost my mother long time ago, and since then, my father loved me so dearly at my tender age may he rest in peace and may the great God give him a safe entry in Paradise Amen. Before the death of my father, he told me that he made a fixed deposit of the sum of Eight Million Five Hundred Thousand United State Dollars ($8.500.000.00) in one of the Banks here in Burkina Faso, with my name as his next of kin, which I confirmed his statement positively from the bank. But on my arrival to the Bank to withdraw the fund, the Bank foreign Operation Department Director whom I meet in person told me that my father instruction to their bank is that the fund would only be release to me when I am married or present a trustee/partner who will help me and invest the fund overseas after the transfer, and the bank ask me to go and look for a foreign partner.

Therefore my dear, I am soliciting your help for transferring of my inheritance fund into your bank account and investment assistance in your Country as my legal appointed trustee as the bank mentioned and it will be my intention to compensate you with 40% of the total fund for your services and help then the balance shall be my capital in your establishment which you are going to establish there in your country or position as my trustee and manger. I have suffered lots of set back as a result of my parents death. I left Kenya, because of incessant family funds. Presently, I am currently residing in Christ De King Refugee camp here in Ouagadougou Capital city of Burkina Faso.

Yes, Virginia ... there is a Burkina Faso.

Yes, Virginia … there is a Burkina Faso.

Hence, I want to settle in your country to further my education and spend the rest of my life. Please consider my request as my life is being hugely affected. Thanking you a lot in anticipation of your quick response. I will give you details in my next mail after receiving your acceptance mail to help me.

Yours Sincerely Vivian John Paul.

From Russia, with love

Unlike nearly every other person with an email inbox out there, I don’t get a lot of spam or junk mail. I have no idea why – I’m just as depraved as the next web surfer, you’d think I’d have picked up at least a couple sketchy cookies in my history by now.

Oh, but I’m trying not to take it personally, though. Maybe I’m just too virtuous for such questionable communiques. Yeah, that’s it.

So, of course, whenever I do see a (1) next to my “Junk” folder name, I can’t click on it fast enough. If my Internet provider considers whatever’s in there to be of absolutely no value and no good for me … well, out of my way, let me at it.

Maybe it’s one of those wonder pills, herbal and all-natural, that will make me “hung like bull.” Or how about some “real” Viagra – just $10 (Canadian) for 1,000 capsules – to make me “love stronger and longer than many bulls!” Or could it be that my great-uncle in Nigeria finally kicked off and that $137 million he’s been holding for me in the Abuja Savings & Loan is mine, mine, mine!!! I thought he’d never die.

Anyway – imagine my surprise when I glanced over and saw a (1) today. What could it be?

Actually, this time it was who could it be. Someone named “S.B.” And the subject? “Transport of Love.”

Oh, my favorite! Another Russian woman I’ve never heard of has finally found me. Without even opening it, I can see her swimming in slow motion across the Atlantic, just to reach me! (And she would get here so much faster if I would just send her $1,000, for one of those slippery wetsuits and English lessons, don’t you know.)

I was not disappointed.

My dear friend,

Sometimes you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with your soul mate and you want to meet your beloved person as soon as possible.

Svet … is that you, Svet?

This twenty-first century letter speaks for my twentieth century soul.  And it does not matter that we never met in real life, never talked, touched or even hold hands. I feel like I want to know you better and you are the one for me.

That perfect man exists in my imagination and I am dreaming about meeting him all days and nights. We have to be patient in order to get what we want. I’d like you to know that I am waiting for my love, my dear.

See you later,

Svet B  

How nice. How sweet. And she sounds so genuine too. I must write her back. But there is no return email address, just a website. No, no, no – I can’t just click on a website. Where’s the heartfeltness, where’s the one-on-oneness, where’s the romance in that?

No, if this is true love, I shall write a letter to her here. No doubt … like Cupid’s arrows, it will find its way. For as that lovely saying about true love goes: If you love something, let it go. If it doesn’t come back, then may it eat shit and die. And if it does, it better have a damn good story for where’s the hell it’s been all this time.

My dearest dear, dear Svet,

How good to hear from you – I hope all is well. You must forgive me if I seem a little confused as I write this. After all, it has been a while since we last talked. Oh, that’s right – we’ve never talked now, have we?

No matter. How my heart swoons to hear that your twenty-first century letter speaks for your twentieth century soul! It just sucks, though, that your 17th-century Internet provider didn’t get this to me sooner. Drat and double-drat – as alas, I am already spoken for.

Actually, Svet dear, I’ve been bespeaked for quite some time now. And get this – she’s of Lithuanian descent! Can you believe it? I’ll bet you’re cursing the day your country ever let that little satellite fly the Soviet Union coop! Isn’t life strange, though.

Yes, yes it is. For as you so splendidly say, “it does not matter that we never met in real life, never talked, touched or even hold hands.” Can’t miss what you’ve never had, no?

So, as they say in my country, don’t be a stranger! Ta-ta and would be yours truly if I truly knew you,

G

Sigh – my first “Dear Svet” letter. Sealed with a kick.