A gift under Faso pretenses

Opening my email today, I realized exactly how the guy who just won $52 million in the lottery ($17.50 after taxes) feels.

Dear Sir/Madam
I sincerely ask for forgiveness for I know this may seem like a complete intrusion to your privacy but right about now this is my option of communication. This mail might come to you as a surprise and the temptation to ignore it as unserious could come into your mind; but please consider it as a divine wish and accept it with a deep sense of humility. I am aware that this is certainly an unconventional approach to starting a relationship. I am Mr Zamany Ibrahim , the personal account officer to the great late diseased who has an account in one of our banks here in Burkina Faso.

You will be shocked to learn that the dearly deceased left an enormous amount of money for no particular reason, and the writer of the message would like to give it to me. It’s something like $40 million, which would cover the San Antonio Rock n Roll marathon entry fee and one night at the Hyatt, with money left over for a refrigerator magnet. Luckily I won’t need food, since I’ve mastered the art of stockpiling those tiny Lara Bar samples, and there’s never a line at the seaweed juice booth.

Yes, in my dreams I’m Elmer. Don’t judge.

All I have to do is give him my bank account information so he can transfer the funds to me.

This truly seems too good to be true.

But of course, there’s a catch.

The writer refers to me as “sir/madam.” Is this not a thinly veiled slap at my manhood?? I suspect this is the Burkina Faso equivalent of “You Girly Boy.” I have not been called “madam” since the time I accidentally went into the ladies’ room at the D.C. train station. In my defense, the little figures on the restrooms are exactly the same except that one of them is wearing a dress. You haven’t fully experienced life till you’ve sat down in a restroom and noticed a pair of pumps in the next stall.

On the one hand, I would enjoy being rich beyond my wildest dreams. On the other hand, my wildest dreams involve Bugs Bunny in a dress. Hmmm. Maybe the sir/madam thing isn’t that far off base after all.

Or maybe I’ll just go for a drive and buy a lottery ticket and a Medium Chocolate Frosty. A divine wish indeed.

And certainly, I would love to buy you one as well. Just leave your bank account information below so I can transfer the funds to you …

About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
This entry was posted in margarine and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to A gift under Faso pretenses

  1. Running Nole Fan says:

    Geez…all I get are emails saying my CPA license (apparently the one from Imaginary Land…I’m not a CPA) has been revoked and offers of pharmaceutical help to insult my manlihood.

  2. Steve Peet says:

    What a wild dream… girly boy and a frosty. I might not sleep well tonight. I’m glad all my known rich relatives avoided the lucrative markets of Burkina Faso.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s