Saturday, August 15, 2009

More Spam to Love!

You know, there is nothing like well-written spam. I have commented on this before, mostly in terms of disgust, since it seems to me that modern spammers just aren't trying. (See here, here, and here.) Today's mail brings a slightly better-than-the-norm come-on. Lacking in originality, I have to say--I was getting sob-stories like this via the US Postal Service 20, 25 years ago--it at least gives some indication that the spammer behind it--Mr. Fareed Usman, to you--put a little bit of effort into it.

For starters, he seems able to keep his story straight between his "from" line (Mr. Fareed Usman) and his "subject" line (From Mr. Fareed Usman)...unimaginative, yes, but consistent! As is his return address, too:
    As you read this, I don't want you to feel sorry for me, because, I believe everyone will die someday.
Wow! Already we have much in common, for I too believe that everyone will die someday! It's almost as if we were separated at birth!
    My name is MR. Fareed Usman a Crude Oil merchant in IRAN; I have been diagnosed with Esophageal cancer. It has defiled all forms of medical treatment, and right now I have only about a few months to live, according to medical experts.
Well, that sucks: You no sooner make a new friend than you find out he has only about a few months to live, for his illness has defiled medical treatment. Which is the sort of thing that really torques off doctors, by the way, which may explain why they've only given him about a few months to live.

As he nears the end of life's highway, Mr. Usman seeks to atone for his past; evidently he was "always hostile to people and only focused on my business as that was the only thing I cared for." Now, however, he has
    willed and given most of my property and assets to my immediate and extended family members as well as a few close friends
who must be pretty saintlike if they remained close friends even when he was "always hostile" to them. Or maybe they're not so close after all, since they don't seem to be very helpful to Mr. Usman as he strives to make amends:
    I want God to be merciful to me and accept my soul so, I have decided to give alms to charity organizations, as I want this to be one of the last good deeds I do on earth.
Points for honesty. Hope God sees it that way, too. But I think God might want a few sharp words with Mr. Usman's family:
    So far, I have distributed money to some charity organizations in Austria, cameroun, Liberia, Algeria and Malaysia. Now that my health has deteriorated so badly, I cannot do this myself anymore. I once asked members of my family to close one of my accounts and distribute the money which I have there to charity organization in Bulgaria and Pakistan; they refused and kept the money to themselves.
Those jerks! Now, not being rich myself I can't quite relate to all the problems that wealth must bring with it. But I have to wonder how tough it could possibly be to give it away. I mean, Mr. Usman seems well enough to have e-mailed me--maybe he's even e-mailed other cyber-friends; who know?--and can than be much more difficult than giving money away? He's already made these connections in Africa, Malaysia, and, um, Austria (?!)--why can't he just e-mail them and say, Not having much luck in Bulgaria and Pakistan, so I have some extra money for you? Well, as the man said, the rich are different than you and me.

It comes as no surprise that Mr. Usman no longer trusts his family, "as they seem not to be contended with what I have left for them." And that, apparently, is where I come in:
    The last of my money which no one knows of is the huge cash deposit of Twenty Five million dollars $25, 000, 000, 00 that I have with a finance/Security Company abroad. I will want you to help me collect this deposit and dispatched it to charity organizations. I have set aside 10% for you and for your time. If this is okay with you get back to me and I'll give you all the details you need to know.
Of course, now people in fact do know about the huge cash deposit, but so it goes. I'm a little confused about why Mr. Usman needs my help to "collect this deposit" when in fact it is his deposit, and he should simply be able to withdraw it, it seems to me. I don't know how Mr. Usman came to settle on me for this task--perhaps he reads this blog; perhaps my legendary devotion to honesty has reached his ears even in Iran--but however it came to be, two and a half million dollars seems fair recompense for my time. I mean, again, how tough can it be? You call Charity A and ask if they'd like a couple million dollars. They say yes. You call Charity B and ask the same question. You wouldn't even get through the whole alphabet at that rate. A day, maybe two, at most.

I only hope Mr. Usman lasts long enough. These diseases that defile medical treatment and leave you with only about a few months to live can be tricky bastards.

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