Dear Father James Tony,Thank you for your kind email regarding my status here on Earth.
While I am certainly not DEAD in the medical sense, perhaps you caught a glimpse of me yesterday downtown, wearing hand-me-down sweatpants, a soiled pyjama top and rubber boots. Understandable for you to think I was on the brink of freezing to death under a bridge next to my shopping cart full of cats, but I assure you I am not DEAD – although perhaps in a downward spiral after catching a glimpse of Chaz Bono on Dancing with the Stars.
Spiritual flat lining is a plague to even the most enlightened of lambs.
As for the $5.5 million dollars US you are claiming I have in my bank account – do you honestly think if I had $5.5 million dollars I would be walking around in the Little Bastard's filthy cast offs, wondering if Greece is going to ask the rest of the world take one up the ass, while they lie under an olive tree sipping ouzo? You must be more stunned than your spelling suggests.
I can assure you, had I even a fraction of a million dollars I would, of course, be lying in a Tuscan villa wondering if I should play tennis, or bike into town for for more Brunello. Instead, I am trying to decide if I should pay my HST, or put some oil in my furnace so I can turn the bloody heat on. It's so fucking cold in this house, a few hours in Hell is sounding rather pleasant.
So, Father James Tony, you can tell your swindling cohort spamasaurus artist, Mr. Bob Chantler, that at the present time I am indeed alive and kicking – and aside from a wet basement, a shitty wardrobe, gravitational tugging, freckles that are morphing into liver spots or Corn Flakes, and a bathroom that looks like a scene from the Reservoir Dogs – life is pretty good. Besides, I can't afford to die. At this rate, I'll be working 25 years after I am DEAD, just to catch up with Revenue Canada.
I also plan on sticking around long enough to see a few of Havenot's finest femme fatales duking it out for homelessness, December 1st at Palooka's. Fight for Change is being billed as a "fantastic night of fun and fundraising" watching 10 otherwise classy women who have enthusiastically stepped into the boxing ring to fight homelessness. I call it the ultimate cat fight and can't wait to see Meghan "The Closer" Laing and Flaunt's Kim "Upper Cut" Grant going at it like the Kardashians. Imagine Nova Scotia's sweetheart, Nancy Regan ducking and weaving as Delvina Bernard slams a right hook at her kisser. Holy shit, Father, who would want to die and miss that!? Funds raised will support Saint Leonard's Society of Nova Scotia and tickets will be available soon, so stay tuned for details.
And Father, while I appreciate that my "joy and success" remains your goal, Mrs. Teresa Hernandez, also a Christian, just picked my email address to receive an inheritance of 3.2 million pounds. And while she didn't say pounds of what, it is with profound respect (and humble submission) that Rabiu Mohamed Hassan M. Nur, a Somalian citizen, has also made a fixed deposit of the sum of 4.7 million USD in one of the banks in Burkina Faso with my name as his next of kin. All I have to do is send them my banking information.
So, I'm not DEAD, I'm LAUGHIN'!
halifaxbroad@gmail.com
*Just read an article in the Herald about a man who actually fell for one of these send money "I'm a widow from Ghana" scams. Come on people. Click to read the article called "Born Yesterday."
