Frenchy's Rant

After four months dealing with nervous anticipation of rejection, with a simple email, I got the best Christmas gift of all!

Dear Frenchy:

You are receiving this e-mail because of your application for a ride certification. This note is to let you know that your ride has been approved and although your ride documents may take a few more weeks to arrive, your membership has also been approved and entered into the Iron Butt Association’s member database.

Welcome to the Iron Butt Association!

The story of the ride, completed in August, can be found here.

Recently I received another spam email, this time from a Mr. Elvis Adekunle of Nigeria. Not sure if he is a friend of Mr. James Nunu, The Honorable James Brown, Esther Prakash, or Mariam Hennesey (Mrs.) but he’s a spammer just the same. I wonder if they sit around together in internet cafes coming up with this crap.

It’s always fun to reply to these people, which I really do, because you never know – one day it might be the real thing!

Here is the latest scam spam:

I am Mr Adekunle. a computer scientist working with central bank of Nigeria.I am 25 years old, just started work with C.B.N. I came across your file which was marked X and your released disk painted RED, I took time to study it and found out that you have paid VIRTUALLY all fees and but the fund was not released to you.

The most annoying thing is that they won’t tell you the truth that on no account will they ever release the fund to you,instead they allow you spend money unnecessarily,I do not intend to work here all the days of my life, I can release this fund to you if you can certify me of my security.

I needed to do this because you need to know the statues of your Funds and cause for the delay,Please this is like a Mafia setting in Nigeria, you may not understand it because you are not a Nigerian. The only thing needed to release this fund is the Anti drug/terrorist clearance certificate which will be tendered to any of your nominated bank and the INTERNAL REVENUE SERVICE(IRS)for clearance of the transfered amount in your account.

Once the Anti drug /terrorist clearance certificate is obtained funds will immediately reflect in your bank within 10 Minutes,the certificate is all that is needed to complete this transaction.

Note that the actual funds is valued at $15.5 MILLION USD and the president made a compensation fund release for all unpaid beneficiary valued at $10 million usd.

Listed below are the mafia’s and banks behind the non release of your funds that i managed to sneak out for your kind persual.

1) Prof. Charles soludo

2) Chief Joseph Sanusi

3) Dr. R. Rasheed

4) Barrister Awele Ugorji

5) Mr Roland Ngwa

6) Barrister Ucheuzo Williams

7) Mr. Ernest Chukwudi Obi

8) Dr. Patrick Aziza

Deputy Governor – Policy / Board Member

9) Mr. Tunde Lemo

Deputy Governor – Financial Sector Surveillance / Board Member

10) Mrs. W. D. A. Mshelia

Deputy Governor – Corporate Services / Board Members

11) Mrs. Okonjo Iweala

12) Mrs. Rita Ekwesili

13) Barr Jacob Onyema

14) Dr. Godwin Oboh: Director Union Bank Of Nigeria.

15) Mr John Collins: Global Diplomat Director.

16) Foreign fund diplomatic courier

17) Barr. Becky Owens

18)Rev. Steven Jones

19) bank of Africa

20)Mrs. Debbie Hargrove

21)Mr. Micheal Wagner

22) ADB Bank Ouagadougou Burkinafaso

23) FSA UK

24) NATWEST BANK

25) ECO Bank

26) Credit Bank

Do get in touch with me immediately to conclude this final transaction immediately,and also send to me your convenient tel/fax numbers for easy communications.

Regards,

Mr Elvis Adekunle

Call : +234 70 394 66 934

And my reply:

Dear Mr. Presley,

I am Snickerdoodle F. Rumplemintz, Esq. Your email has come to my attention by appearing in my Spam Folder. I must first inform you that I do not appreciate your repeated use of the ‘N’ word in your spam message. I find this term to be extremely offensive. In case you hadn’t heard, ever since the election of President Barak Obama, racism is officially over. You may not understand this because you are not an American.

Your information is somewhat correct about my payment of fees associated with my ‘X-Marks-The Spot’ file and my REDRUM disk. I paid most of the fees to Mr. James Nunu, who no longer replies to my emails. I fear Mr. Noodle has been killed in an unfortunate ‘necklacing’ incident. However, since I lost the rented Blockbuster disc on my last trip to your bank to try and collect my money, I couldn’t return it to Blockbuster. The late fees have been piling up, which is why I have been avoiding Blockbuster like the plague. I’m afraid if I go in there without the REDRUM disc to return, they’ll try and ‘necklace’ me too. I’m happy you found the disc, Elvis!

You may be a computer scientist, but you’re obviously not a pro at the spam game. You are supposed to ask me for things I can give you; personal information and account numbers for example. How in the hell am I supposed to get you a Anti drug /terrorist clearance certificate? I don’t even know what that is. But if it helps you, my social security number is 789-0987-3876.

Finally, you say you don’t intend to work at the Mafia bank all your life, then you send me a list fingering the top Mafioso Bankers? Are you sure this is the wisest course of action? Those kind of people can be pretty grumpy sometimes. I sent everyone on your list a copy of your email, just to make sure we’re all on the same page. I’m sure they’ll be contacting you shortly about your sudden career change to the automobile tire industry.

Enough of this crap. Send me the $10 million, and my missing Blockbuster REDRUM movie. Hurry up. The late fees are growing. Take my word for it that you’ll be secure. If you need to get in touch with me again, hit me up on Facebook. You’re a computer scientist so I’m sure you know how that works.

PS: I’m a huge fan of Graceland!

Sincerely,

Snickerdoodle F. Rumplemintz

I hate flying. Making a living as a TV production whore, flying is an unavoidable; necessary evil that comes along with the job. There are those among us in the TV production brothel that take flying seriously – VERY seriously. For some, their whole sense of self-worth is defined by their tier of status in their favorite airline’s frequent flier program. Being top tier generally ensures their flabby asses get upgraded to first class, where they can hang out with like minded Bluetooth earpiece wearing zombies and assorted business related douchebags. Top tier status also ensures they can call the super-secret airline hotline 24/7 and whine to some poor bastard who by contract can’t hang up on this ‘valued‘ customer.

Full disclosure: I’ve been a member of Delta’s Ultra-Douche Platinum Preferred tier for about ten years now – though in the silent, I-never-call-the-hotline-and-bitch minority.

Personally, I stopped caring about upgrades about six years ago – perfectly timed with the WWE’s first Tribute to the Troops show. After being packed up and basically Fed-Exed halfway around the world like so many packages of dog food, I realized that even a middle seat on a commercial airline is an upgrade, and certainly not worth the effort it takes to bitch about.

My life became remarkably easier and more relaxed when I stopped caring about the perks of frequent flier status.

Of course, with a fifty-two week a year job taking place in two different cities per week, there’s usually no problem racking up the frequent flier miles, and thus racking up the status. And there are some times when having that status comes in handy. One year the WWE was in Oklahoma, and a huge ice storm hit. Most flights were grounded, but somehow US Airways slid a plane down the runway to rescue the poor, stranded Chairman’s Preferred passengers. Fifty of the fifty-six people on the plane were top tier, and the pilot confirmed the reason US Airways risked sending the plane was because of the unusually high amount of ‘Valued Customers’ (mostly WWE TV Whores) making up the flight. As they say, membership does have its benefits. I’m sure there are other benefits to being a ‘topper,’ but I can’t be bothered to find out.

But still, Ultra-Douche or not, I hate the whole process of flying. So, for a while I did something about that deep seated hatred. I took six weeks off from the drudgery this summer, and rode my trusty Yamaha FJR, Rain Cloud Follows to work.

This was probably the best six weeks of the year for me, at least commute-wise. But for every silver lining, there’s always a kick in the nuts. This month, I calculated that my little flying hiatus created a problem for my ultra-douche status. Without some creative routing on Delta through year’s end, I was going to end 2008 with about 97,000 frequent flier miles – 3000 miles short of the 100,000 mile Ultra-Douche threshold.

So, in booking the last month of 2008’s travel, I had to make a decision. Take the most direct flights and lose that top tier, don’t-worry-we’ll-send-a-plane-for-you-no-matter-what status, or take some less-direct Delta flights and earn the necessary 3000 miles. For the sake of ease next year, I chose the second option.

Yes, the lovely Deltalina had a lot to do with my decision.

Of course, being ignorant of most of the benefits of Delta Ultra-Douchidness, I was also unaware at some point Delta lowered the threshold to 75,000 miles, meaning I already qualified as a 2009 Ultra-Douche, sometime back in September! Fuck!

The bottom line is for the rest of the month I’ll be doing the very thing I hate most – taking a lot of unnecessary extra flights to pay for my ignorance. Ah well.

At least I’ll have Deltalina’s wagging finger to look forward to, proving that for every kick in the nuts, there is a silver lining.

You don’t need as much sleep as you think.

This, above all else, is a lesson that I have taken home from Iraq. Every year. I’d say that on average, the crew gets about ten hours of sleep in four days, give or take. I was racking up my dreamless hours when, suddenly, my sound sleep was shattered by the Adhan, the Muslim fard salah, or call to prayer. The helicopters flying overhead all night may have briefly made me stir; the sporadic sound of gunfire as patrols leaving Camp Victory test their 50 cal machine guns might have made me roll over; but when I heard the wailing call of the Adnan at 5 AM, I knew I was done sleeping for the night.

So, I did what any transient in Cyclone City would do when wide awake at 5 AM, I ponied up my credit card and signed on to the in suite WI-FI router. If I can’t sleep, I may as well rant.

It was a little weird to see the header in Arabic. I tried to sign on. And failed. Several times. I kept getting an error message – in Arabic. WOW, that’s helpful! I struggled for a while, until I figured out (by figured out, I mean made a wild guess) that Arabic reads from left to right. Entering my password first, then my username was the way to open the sesame to Blogger.com.

I wrote a silly little rant, added one picture, then waited thirty-seven minutes while the post and picture uploaded. The Internet may not be free, but at least it’s slow. While waiting, I carried out the second half of my Iraq mission, writing the first of two installments of my ‘crew blog’ for the WWE.com website. Before the trip began, I was asked if I’d write a blog about what it takes to set up an arena in the desert. I figured I’m going to blog about it here for the Faithful Fifteen to skim, why not write something on a website that people actually visit? The WWE wisely hid my blog from all but the most dedicated fans, including my brother Eric, Unleaded of The Great Nova Scotia Expedition and Air Force fame, and my Dad, who posted three of the five comments I received. To save time and trouble, here’s a link to that blog: WWE.com

Set day number two started much like set day one ended. Dark, with no electricity.

I wanted to see if my signature left from the 2006 Tribute to the Troops was still there.

The electricians guarantee power ‘sometime after lunch.’ Then they promptly go to lunch. They neglect to specify which lunch the power will come after. Those electricians! Such a merry bunch of kidders!

For once, they weren’t kidding. After their mandated post-lunch, pre-break break ends, they flip a circuit breaker, we all hold our collective breath, and, rather than filling with smoke like we expected, miraculously, the tent fills with the wonderful sounds of whirring fans, electronic beeping and blinking lights. With half a set day to go, we’re in business!

Suddenly, there is a fairly loud explosion not too far away. The second lesson I’ve taken away from Iraq is – It’s Always Something. I flash back three years to the last time in Baghdad. We were waiting to go to lunch when a mortar attack hit the dining facility. Something about a rocket exploding a few hundred feet away really put me off my lunch that day. But this time, nobody’s running; nobody’s shouting “Get the fuck down!” In fact the soldiers working with us don’t even seem to have noticed. I walk outside to see what happened.

Well, whatever it was, it was pretty close. But if nobody else is going to worry about it, I won’t either. Back to work! Inside Supershooter Green, racks are set up, and the long, tedious job of patching everything together begins.

After suffering through another brief power outage, much briefer than the previous day-and-a-half long outage, I get as far as I am going to get for the day. I’d say that I’m about 80% ready for tomorrow’s show, which is close enough for comfort. Speaking of comfort, before leaving for the day, we pour some smuggled adult liquid comfort from a flask, and hoist a red plastic cup to the Best Set Day Ever.

It’s Wednesday, 1 AM Baghdad time, and we’re on the ground. Finally. The big group splits off into five smaller groups – four will travel to Forward Operating Bases and entertain the troops, while my group, The Redheaded Stepchildren, get to stay behind to set up the arena and TV production facilities for Friday’s show. The other four groups vanish into the darkness, while we start unloading pallets of luggage. Poor Team Cinderella…

Setup continues, and the vacant lot begins to resemble an arena. Soldiers and referees build the ring.

The rest of this tale can be found here.