I keep getting weird e-mails from a guy who claims that he’s dying from cancer and has a mere 2 million dollars he’s wanting to disperse. Apparently out of all the millions of people on the earth, he chose little ‘ol me from an extensive search on the Internet.
I get 10% of the money and get to use the other 90% for the greater good of all mankind. He doesn’t want the money used in an ungodly manner, so he decided that I would be the perfect one to figure out how to use this wad of cash. ‘Cause there’s nothing ungodly about me. Nope. My halo is so bright that it keeps me up at night.
Since his health is deteriorating so quickly, I have to Act Now!! He found me online and doesn’t have all the particulars, so I just have to send him my address, phone number and fax number so he can make all the arrangements with the attorneys and have the funds sent to me from Europe.
Now I looked in the mirror this morning, and unless it’s written in invisible ink, the word “sucker” does not appear anywhere on my forehead. Give him my address?! Riiiiiiight. How about I give him my phone number so he can call me night and day. Or use it to find the address I wouldn’t give him.
So thank you, but no, Mr.Tarnue Weah. Let one of the other thousands of people that you sent this email to be given the privilege of handling your money. I can barely take care of my own.
