You know, you can beaver away quite happily unnoticed, but it's still nice to get a bit of recognition from outside. And so this Saturday morning, quite out of the blue actually, a note comes in all the way from Japan -
Greetings,
I am sorry to encroach into your privacy in this manner, I found your name listed in the Trade Centre Chambers of Commerce directory here in Japan. I find it pleasurable to offer you my partnership in business. I only pray at this time that your address is still valid. I want to solicit your attention to receive money on my behalf. The purpose of my contacting you is because my status would not permit me to do this alone. When you reply to this message, I will send you the full details and more information about myself and the funds. If interested, please reply through my alternate Email:
Mr.Hiroko Jiro (Head of Finance Dept,Tokyo Mitsubishi Bank Tokyo, Japan)
More evidence, if more were needed, that the world is indeed a small place.
I decided to seek a photograph of my new friend on Google Images. Imagine my reaction on discovering an instant hit on 'Anti-Fraud International' associated with a scam in relation to a supposed 'inheritance' of one Charles Russel (dec.), and that the IP address being used actually terminates in Nigeria, rather than Japan.
It's hard to avoid the conclusion that, in the immortal words of Tom Jones, 'There's no place like home'.
Be careful out there!
I actually thought it was highly entertaining. So, I wrote back to the author today. Here is what I said:
ReplyDeleteMay I respectfully add some things for you to consider? Firstly, a livelier, snappier version, more punch as it were, for your consideration in future mail shots. If people really read this, then entertain them please.
Greetings from Japan, the home of Fuji and sushi dipped in centuries-old hand-crafted soy sauce, tangy ginger and wannabewasabi sauce, yipp-yipp, see "Lost in Translation" for referenced scene. I am sorry to encroach ON your privacy in this manner. GET A COPY-WRITER WHEN YOU PESTER PEOPLE, YOUR STYLE IS BEYOND THE PAIL/PALE/STALE:
Suggested rewrite, upping the deranged element:
My lowly self or its anal-rentitive id, yours sincerely, snapped out of its/my/his/Your Highness's cocain-infested, self-pejorative dream and found your uranus-attached pickle jar filled to the brim with spare quarters and tooth-fairy juvenilia, so, on a gander, I sent out this robot-driven and poorly styled piece of spam email, which, much to my chagrin, has produced but(t) a single/as-yet not married or (re-)divorced answer: to with: this humble smtp-server boomeranged intrepid missive, slaked on coke ({Contact It.Is.The.Real.Thing.Sand@PepsiCo.Com} in case of keen and selfless interest) and visions of revenge. So, all this having been said and getting down to the point/nitty-gritty or cutting to the chase, or simply trying to purloin some wealth from what you don't already have, I found YOU listed in the Trade Centre Chambers of Commerce directory here in Japan, I must at this point add a rejoinder which, barring any even funnier, ergo wittier, rejoinders, shall forthwith be heard, though up with it none shall put, all things being the same, at the end of the dame's long uranus-attached plectorum swirler which tickles when gently stirred with or without olivia newton's jon, I shall flatly say.
Stop.
Desist.
Spare us your contact requests.
Now.
Dismounting.
My.
Rocker/Soapbox/Gibberish-Generator.
Respectfully yours,
Matthew the Mad Hatter