Can O' Whup-Ass

Spamtasm: "Nice Olga"

Hello, muskrats. Good summer so far? Wait, we don't really care. It's a hot one today, in that "the-air-feels-like-mushroom-soup" kinda way that's particular to our beloved liberal elite greater New York City.

Anywho, we sat down to write something for the many dozens of rabid COWA fans, and were stuck for a theme. Lo and behold, our "Junk" folder yielded the following missive from one Ms "Nice Olga," an enchanting Russian temptress whose inspiring quest for chicken-fried American matrimony has provided fodder for this week's blog treachery. Ms "Nice Olga" eloquently writes (in tandem with secksy pic, right):

Hello dear!
How are you? I hope that all nice for you. I write to you, because I want to find man from Europe.

My name is Olga and I am 35 years old. I from city Novodvinsk. I’m educated, kind and tolerant. My heart is full of love to nature and music. I like reading, cooking, gardening. I am family-oriented. I have an optimistic outlook, but I am alone. I hope to meet a man who needs my tenderness.

I want to love and to be loved. I don’t smoke. I'm very beautiful and friendly woman and to search for serious attitudes. In July I wish to visit the United States. But I have no friends in the USA.

Also it would be fine, if we could have a meeting in your country. I yet have not decided what country to visit, but it would be fine if you will tell to me more about the country.In what country you now live? Tell to me more about the country?

It will be great if you will answer to me, so we can to have communication together. If you will reply to me I will writing to you more about me and send photo of myself. I want only serious and long relations, I hope you support me in it.

It will be interesting to me to learn that you think of it. I hope to hear from you soon on my mail box: [email protected]

Olga.

So here's how we've responded:

Deer miss Olga,

I just got back from the Greater Tuscaloosa Mall where I picked up some new tires at Sears for my colonial revival double-wide and soon as I got in I fired up my 'puter and saw your email. You sure is a pretty woman, Miss Olga. I am mighty grateful you crawled into that there flower bush to pose for that provockative photo.

My name is Gomer Sleestack. I am gainfully employed as the regional assistant director of Squat & Squeal, the third biggest Port-o-Potty services provider in Southeast Tuscaloosa. And ever since my Momma got hit in the head with a shovel at the grange's hog makeover pageant, I been thinkin I need me a woman.

I been hankerin for the kinda gal who knows how to scare up some dumplins and can also put her ankles behind her head. I'm a romantick guy. Now I knowtiss that you're from a town called "Novodvinsk." Well, that don't sound very Christian. Sounds like you from Russia or Africka. I don't mind much, long as you speak Inglish and can make pancakes and keep yer yap shut.

In return for your wifely duties, I will give you a taste of the American high-life you desperately crave. Every Tuesday (long as the beds is made and the john don't smell), I will treat you to a pulled pork samwich down to Sam & Ella's Grub Shack (they just finished remodelin their Coors garden).

I gots me the dough to keep a lady stocked in nutter butters so she can watch her shows while she vacuums my TV room. The gal that hit my momma in the noggin with a shovel is married to the vice president of public relations of none other than Hormel's Southeast regional pig foot pickling operation and the settlement payed off my pick-up. I'm rollin in more dough than a fat chick at the Dunkin Donuts.

Now I see you are 35 years of age. I reckon you been hittin the snooze button on yer biologickle clock for a few years. All I want is three heteroseckshul kids, two boys and one girl. No more. So after your fertile loins hawk out womb booger number three, we can start doing it up your pooper. As I said, I'm a romantick. I like all the old fashioned spoonin' and neckin. I like to make a lady feel safe and loved. Then I like to make her sit in my bathtub so I can pee on her boobs.

I look forward to hearin from ya, babe. Send me a pic of yer snatch.

Yore future husbind,
Gomer P. Sleestack III

We'll see if we hear back. And we'll keep you posted.

xox
WAM

Nice Olga sez: "Ya, I would make a vat of borscht for a subscription to this blog's feed."

 

Spamtasm: Whupassa Stuart Masterson Responds to Pastor Paul Ojegbekilo

Like you, dear readers, from time to time WAM's gorgeous spam-box is stuffed to the gills with kindly letters from totally well-meaning Nigerians who are simply DYING to help us deposit a gazillion dollars in our checking account (if we'd just be a dove and provide them with our banking information and social security number). Known as the 419 or "Spanish Prisoner" scam, it's really the oldest trick out there (not counting Madonna). We're not the first to have fun at their expense (Ebola Monkey did it first and best), nor will we be the last.

But our most recent Nigerian business opportunity was so unique we couldn't resist resurrecting one Ms. Whupassa Stuart Masterson to respond to his heart-wrenching and florid query.

You may read the original spam here, in PDF (alas, it's too long to repeat in this post). The short version goes something like this: The Reverend Ojegbekilo of the dazzling Okuhuke Community Church would like us to know that God is busily blessing Nigeria. But while the good reverend is saving simply oodles of negros from the oily bosom of lucifer, for some reason, most of his converts are too old to read normal bibles. Would we care to help him purchase 20 large print King James versions? Oh, and please help his negro orphans. Got it? 

Take it away, Whupassa! 

Dear Reverend Kabuki Bukkake,

Gosh, I was so thrilled to get your email! It's such a coincidence! I just got back from church. Today, Pastor Mike Huckabee (of the Greater Tuscaloosa Pentecostal Church of Signs Appearing) told us that Jesus wants us to spread the gospel to everyone, even negros and rag-heads. Then he handed out the snakes.

I would love to help you buy Bibles for your old people! My mom, bless her heart, is an old person. Last spring she crashed her Dodge Dart into a cow and ever since she thinks she's Eydie Gormé. So now I keep her chained to the couch.

Anywho, I've got lots of money to send. Back in 1993 I got my eye poked out by an excitable IHOP waitress (who had very strong feelings about not putting ketchup on waffles). So I sued and got $50,000! Unfortunately, half of it's tied up right now because a nice man from your country named Buttfungi Cowabunga wrote to me last month because he's trying to get $10 million out of your country (something to do with a dead oil guy), and all he needed was $25,000 and my account information! So soon I'm going to have even more money to send you! Praise Jesus! In the meantime, I'd be happy to send some casseroles. I could send my famous Lime Jello Marshmallow Cottage Cheese Surprise! Or how about my world renowned Weenies-Velveeta-and-Doritos Yum Pie? I made both for our Annual Fourth of July White Power Picnic and they were both great big fat hits!

But I have some questions. First, what kind of Bibles are you giving to your old folks? I don't want to pay for any homo version. If King James was good enough for Jesus, it's good enough for me! Also, how come you don't want Bibles on tape? I have a Bible on tape read by Sarah Palin and it's just super!

Nigeria sounds beautiful. Is it in France? Do you like french fries? I do, especially with maple syrup (but don't tell that to a certain cranky IHOP waitress who shall remain nameless).

Yours in Christ,
Whupassa Stuart Masterson

We sure hope Reverend Ojegbekilo responds. This could be fun.

Pastor Paul Ojegbekilo sez: "Please send money to Nigeria so our orphans can subscribe to this blog's feed."