Nothing gives me warm fuzzies like an email from a date spammer. I love how they are all "men of god" looking for a "godly" woman. Yeah, that's me all right.

One flew in under the radar recently though because of his impeccable grammar and English. Apparently, Ramseur, NC is the town du jour for spam daters to be from these days--at least on the OKC ranch. Spams the Man. This guy appears normal then launches into the song n dance about having a kid, no wife, civil engineer in Nigeria, but originally from NC. The picture was obviously lifted off some poor schmo. I imagine it is a group of 6 graders in Nigeria just earning a living and getting an "A" for good English skills.

Damn them for improving their game! I wish the mothership would come and beam them up up and away, along with the Nigerian woman of god (Naomi at last email, but aka Ruth, Rebecca, Abigail, Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Brown) who writes to me because no one else can help her obtain her gazillion dollars from a tupperware container hidden in a bank vault in an obscure Eastern European country where her father (who is a well-respected cacao merchant) died and left a scrap of a treasure map with my email address scrawled on it as her last hope. I hope they shake it up a bit and start using better names: Bambi, Cinnamon, Twirly Nips, Gbemisola (carry me into wealth), Monifa (I am lucky), Nkiruka (the best is still to come), and Ooompaloompka (I am here to screw you big time).

Today, I even got a fabulous job offer from Big Daddy Wombatu who just needs me to shake down some people, deposit illegal funds in my bank account and send him 90% of it in gold bars or bearer bonds or stuff it in my coochie and fly over to deliver it personally.

Just a little venting. Now back to my Godiva and Kahlua with a little coffee on the side.

Labels: Spam