|Subject: Response Urgently Needed|
My Dear Friend,
My name is Mr. George Stephens, as an accountant in a bank; I contacted you to work together with me in claiming my late client estate. Unfortunately he died without a registered next of kin and as such the funds now have an open beneficiary status. You could be made the beneficiary as you shear the same last name with him.
This has officially transferred the right to you, as no other person from his family knows anything about this fund with our bank.If you are interested in working with me, please get back to me as quickly as possible so that I give you the details of what we are to do.
I wait for your prompt response so that I can give you more briefing of what you need to and how to do it.
Thanks for your co-operation.
Mr. George Stephens.
I feel sorry for anyone who really does have an e-mail address of firstname.lastname@example.org, as that's what he provided as the "reply-to" e-mail address.
|"[I]f Haggard's unblinking congregation could sit and listen to such a liturgical Liberace week after week and not realize they were in the presence of someone who makes Barry Manilow in a full-length mink look butch, they really need to recalibrate their ability to detect prescription-strength doses of flamboyance." ~Betty Bowers, America's Best Christian~|
A quote from Betty Bowers' piece, "Mrs. Betty Bowers' Words of Christian Concern for Ted Haggard's Delicious Disgrace." Read the entire piece here.
I meant to capture this yesterday. On the way in to work, on I-40, I saw this bumper sticker, which I just loved:
I particularly like the color allusion to this bumper sticker:
I worked at Service-Learning for two hours today. A guest, Dani, from the University of Alaska was in the office today, as was Alissa, Myra, and Patti. I got the Session 2B/2C and Session 3B/3C thing cleared up.
They ordered food from Baja Burrito, which arrived shortly before I left. Looked good! Love that place!
I had a turkey burger and a half a cucumber for dinner tonight, and then napped for an hour-and-a-half before dancing.
At 9:00, besides Geromy, me, Van, and Gary (the bartender) there were two other people in the bar. Ernie came at 9:10. At 9:15, the number of dancers doubled as Carl, Bill, and Steven arrived at the same time.
There were very few bar patrons all night long. At 11:00, we all left — except Van who said, "Shit, I have another hour to go."