Dear Friend I Am Not Spam I Am Pork

DEAR FRIEND

Attention My Dear Friend From Your Friend Agent Richard Stephen

I am Mr. Richard Stephen, a senior officer at John F. Kennedy International Airport New York, during my search for undelivered parcels I discovered an abandoned shipment from a Diplomat from Africa and when scanned it revealed an undisclosed sum of money in a metal trunk box which could be approximately $12.5Million dollars.

The consignment was abandoned because the Contents of the consignment was not properly declared by the consignee as "MONEY" rather it was declared as personal effect to avoid interrogation and also the inability of the diplomat to pay for the United States Non Inspection Charges which is $3,800USD. On my assumption the consignment is still left in our Storage House here at the John F. Kennedy International Airport Queens New York till date. The details of the consignment including your name, your email address and the official documents from the United Nations office in Geneva are tagged on the Trunk box.

However, to enable me confirm if you are the actual recipient of this consignment as the assistant director of the Inspection Unit, I will advise you provide your current Phone Number and Full Address, to enable me cross check if it corresponds with the address on the official documents including the name of nearest Airport around your city. Please note that this consignment is supposed to have been returned to the United States Treasury Department as unclaimed delivery due to the delays in concluding the clearance processes so as a result of this, I will not be able to receive your details on my official email account. So in order to enable me to cross check your details, I will advise you to send the required details to my private email address for quick processing and response. Once I confirm you as the actual recipient of the box, I can get everything concluded within 48hours upon your acceptance and proceed to your address for delivery.

Lastly, be informed that the reason I have taken it upon myself to contact you personally about this abandoned consignment is because I want us to transact this business and share the money 70% for you and 30% for me since the consignment has not yet been returned to the United States Treasury Department after being abandoned by the diplomat so immediately the confirmation is made, I will go ahead and pay for the United States Non Inspection Fee of $3,800 dollars and arrange for the box to be delivered to your doorstep Or I can bring it by myself to avoid any more trouble but you have to assure me of my 30% share...

I wait to hear from you urgently if you are still alive and interested to receive your box and I will appreciate it if we can keep this deal confidential. My private Email: (richardstephen915@gmail.com) for further directives: You can not call me on my telephone number for it will expose me more.

Thank you. Mr. Richard Stephen Assistant Inspection Director John F. Kennedy International Airport Queens New York, 11430 United States

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? I am trustable complete, send money you are safe in my fingers.

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals

Brother Smedly Rotates Clownwise

I can't complain — I'm not a clown, but if a monkey, well then I'd frown.

I'm worried that my nose is too big. People are always laughing. Ever since clown school. I sneeze in your general direction, Mr Poopyhead.

Someone told me that every Thursday is a major holiday, but it's never happened before, so I'll think twice about wearing my clown costume to work again.

Uncle Benny laid an egg last night while attending the opera. Could have been worse. Since no one but he can stand all the terrible howling, he was all alone there in his formal clown suit, clucking softly in the dark.

I used to have an inkling until it flew away to join the circus.

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? I can't.

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals

Watching, Always Watching

Pat and Trite the Obvious Sisters, are selling off slightly used Xmas gift rejects. Xmas gift rejects. They call them "Regurgitates". Socks, sweaters, Bibles, pets — you name it and they probably have it, at least one of each and every. Sale ends Friday but they didn't say in which month. Bring your own disinfectant.

Pat and Trite the Obvious Sisters want you to know that you are not alone, even if you deserve to be. They are always watching, and taking notes.

Pat and Trite the Obvious Sisters, are starting a new suburban lawn care service. They'll come by, critique your spread, and tell you what to do. $7500 for each 30 minute session, by appointment. Repeat customers welcome, if any. No whining.

Pat and Trite the Obvious Sisters, are holding a non-denominational service for all interested parties in the name of the "Totally Average Non-Religious Deity of Ordinary Normal Good Folks Like Us". Pretty much says it all right there. Come one, come all, and enjoy the post-silent-meditation potluck. Bring what you can, but they already have more salads than anyone can look at without gagging, so how about something meaty? A voluntary $10 love offering will be collected at the door ($20 if you don't bring food, because everyone else will be and you're not that special, are you?) too, and we have to be realistic about this, people.

Pat and Trite the Obvious Sisters have a Neighborhood Watch which will be scanning the vicinity from the community observation tower, looking for dry or unclean bird baths, among other things. Help us, people! We need to bring our area up to national standards!

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Not much like them, at all.

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals

Drifting Unformed Silent

I am the Lonesome Cowboy, drifting along from place to place, never noticed, never heard, never missed once I am again gone.

I am the Lonesome Cowboy, shuffling along quietly near the borders of what is called life. Never one to complain, I then do not, preferring to cut and to keep cut as many of the ties to average daily life as I am able, while remaining substantially unseen, unheard, and delible.

I am the Lonesome Cowboy, sitting aside my solo campfire talking to any and whichever adventurous moths might tender a brief visit, otherwise completely alone, save for a scant few stars and the nightly chill.

I am the Lonesome Cowboy, sitting very still, listening to something howling at the moon, surprised once again to realize that it is I, clever man.

I am the Lonesome Cowboy, unformed, shapeless, a shade, a shadow, a small uncertain cloud of indifference and lost opportunity, neither here nor there, nor even anywhere in between, and no longer sure of anything else.

I am the Lonesome Cowboy. Never been kissed, save for a few gritty wind-blown grains of sand, eventually learning to quit hoping. Never had a real conversation with a real woman even, ever. I did try though, somewhat. Even said my prayers, always on time, and respectfully, but no. Now, old and leathery, parked quietly in the dark of night, I no longer do more than to wait. For what, I do not know, nor really care. I wait, only wait.

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Just blew my nose. Expect to recover shortly.

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals

Please Pay The Bean Doctor

Recently paid a visit to the eye doctor. He's better than the nose doctor, at least for eye things, not so much for nose things, and the nose doctor has better toys in his waiting room, which there is competition for. Like last week when I was on site for a routine nose tuneup and re-straightening. (I get mine bent out of shape a lot.) I had to punch out a couple of kids who just would not give up the sock puppets. Then they started crying to Mommy, and I had to punch her out too. It was a long week full of many difficulties — makes me glad to be back in my nice, quiet cell again.

Rubber bands — what miracles of industry. Or, are they actually alive? I noticed one eyeing me yesterday but pretending not to. (This is not as big a stretch as you probably think.)

Resurrection Toast: If Mom's Everlasting Raisin Pie returns from the dead, try spreading it on toast and feeding it to the neighbor kid. They'll never miss him. (Or her, or it, or whatever.)

I bet the people who do show up at my high school reunion will find some reason not to even notice that I'm not giving even a one-sided fart about it (though in my own lonely way).

I don't know why I'm still lonely. I mean, banishment, exile, and all, but there must be a genuine reason somewhere here, right?

Meatballs live short, lonely lives that always end badly but taste good.

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Will tell you as soon as I find out.

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals

Smile Like It's Been Fun

Custom Carpet Immolation Services. "When it can't be saved, just be brave." Do the right thing. Call us, 'K? Positive results for all infestations, odors, and non-removable stains. Client must have adequate outdoor space and a valid burning permit. Simultaneous human sacrifices not allowed by city ordinance. Check with Bob's Body Burners & Unholy Communionistas for advice on disposing of relatives and difficult neighbors before making a commitment that may be expensive to get out of.

Paper-Cut Medical Services. Will do house calls, will accept dinner invitations. Have my own hammock and socks.

On-call Spot Remover. Must be flea-collared and up to date with all vaccinations. If so, send me a postcard and I might get back to you.

Artichoke inspector, will also do cantaloupe or tomatoes if asked politely. Not usually available Thursdays in June.

I wonder how life is for people who have pornographic memories.

Mom said I'm a turd, but look who laid me.

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Teeth. I have teeth. Come by and I'll show them to you.

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals

Whiskas N Cream

I don't want to brag, but I'm not very good at anything. Eating cake though...Yeah, I'm OK there. I can eat lots of cake, most days, and keep it down without even breaking a sweat. Most days.

Is it wrong to eat out of the cat's bowl? I'm thinking there's less to wash up, dish-wise. So far it's working mostly. A few hissy fits, sure, every now and then, when I'm running late and Herbert has to wait, but mostly OK. Pizza is hard. I usually get my face stuck going after that last bit of sausage, so sometimes Mr Fancypants H gets the last bit, but I make it up with beer. I get all the beer (Point of privilege, opposable thumbs for holding bottles and all.)

Let's say, without equivocation, that I'm enjoying eating out of the cat's bowl. Lower to the floor, so no chance of falling out of my chair, good company, lots of purring, very few and infrequent hissy fits, better tasting food than I can make on my own, and easier cleanup (or none, depending on who eats first). And since Herbert doesn't like beer that much, I get to lap away over at my private "special" bowl as fast or as slow as it suits me. If I'm in the mood, I toss Bertie a little pinch of 'nip so he doesn't feel left out, and then we have a nap. Pretty mellow deal we have here.

Currently re-entering earth's atmosphere, from below. Been living the mole life for a year or so. Tired of eating worms, and need some real beer. Molebrau is adequate but generally has a higher dirt content than I prefer.

If you want to eat something, make sure that it has stopped moving first — a good rule to follow. Think "moving and storage" services, you playing the "storage" part. Just practice until it feels natural.

Yesterday I ate something that didn't agree with me. In my experience, that's often the quickest way to reach a consensus.

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? You thought I was making this up?

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals

Go Go Go Fer Eeeps

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, is going to take a float trip down the Grand Canyon on a crocodile. She says there's a company set up for this — BiteMeFloaties they call it. She'll be busy during the season opener, so she wants me to take the first crocodile and write up a report if I have any fingers left and all else goes well, etc.

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, is pretty nice overall, except when she's not, of course. Ours is about like most relationships, I guess, and I've got the scars to testify on my behalf if we ever get to that point.

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, is quite the gal. (I'm contractually obligated to say that at least twice a week.) And I mean it. (Or else.)

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, sent me a message in a bottle. It was written in sand at the bottom of the bottle, and got stirred up when she hit me over the head with it (to catch my attention, I'm guessing). Anyway, now I have lumps and still have no idea what I'm supposed to do, so maybe that was the message. You never know, even if you're expected to. (I truly hope that's the right answer.)

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, says that she wants to start a gopher farm. She already has a place. All she needs is the dirt to go with it, and a selection of worthwhile gopher seeds. I'm to be in charge of those details, plus finding a quality supplier of holes. (Decent gophers demand quality holes.) If there's something else, I'm sure she'll tell me when she gets back from outer space, where her family is wiring up an interplanetary telegraph system. (Very hush-hush for now though.)

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, wants to train ants to rob banks. She figures if she can do that, then I can get an actual job and pull my own weight, which is one reason that I'm still on my diet.

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Do you need to even ask?

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals