An idiot writes
I'm all for the new medium of "e-mail" which young people are using with increasing frequency these days. I dare say it keeps them off the streets and back in harm's way where they belong.
The problem is, I keep getting so-called "e-mails" that tell me "Congratulations! Your e-mail address was entered in the Dutch National Lucky Millions Lottery sponsored by Microsoft and you've won $1,000,000!!!" I must be the luckiest man on Earth, as I've won dozens of times this month alone.
Every time I contact these people to get my money, however, they never pay up despite my cheques for bank transfer fees disappearing from my account at a rate of knots. I'm beginning to suspect that there might not even be a Dutch National Lucky Millions Lottery sponsored by Microsoft at all, and SOMETHING NEEDS TO BE DONE about these blithering incompetents!
How many times have they "mixed up names and numbers" so far? I would have thought, even with Microsoft's so-called assistance, they would have some sort of system in place by now. It's costing me a fortune and these people are destroying my faith in what is clearly an otherwise genuine enterprise.
I mean, for example, what happens when my e-mail address REALLY wins $1,000,000 in the Dutch National Lucky Millions Lottery? I'm going to think twice before handing over another five hundred smackers for the administration fee, aren't I? And then who's going to be the loser, answer me that.
I'm getting to the point where the money's going to come is handy. The last lot of penis enlargement pills didn't work, and I need the funds to pay for my next order. Get a grip, you Dutch imbeciles!
I am not mad.
Lt Col Winston St John Cholmondeley-Cholmondeley Patel (Mrs)
PS I'm grateful to my bankers, Douche-Despittle-Degaryglitter for embracing this new technology. Their frequent e-mails asking me to verify my account are a real boon, and have put my mind at rest over the security of my hard-earned pension, relieved from the ungrateful natives during the Battle of the Sindhigar Kush in 1927.
There I was, I remember quite clearly, shelterin' behind the bullet-riddled carcass of a dead yak in the town square with "Squiffer" Featherstonehalgh, surrounded my the lifeless bodies of me former comrades-in-arms of the Princess Kylie's Light Goat Botherers, lettin' rip at the chargin' Phansigars with me trusty Lee Enfield when I espied out of the corner of me eye… (continued on p.37)