Meet Jason Everhardt, a well-meaning, yet terribly bawdy bloke whose highly eclectic character from the old days of Comedy Corner is seen sometimes commenting on various posts here within my journal entries.
Most of his satirical repertoire dealt with sex in the hard-core sense, not very appropriate for these pages. Perhaps with some editing, I’d be able to clean it up before posting; but nay, if I did, his humor would be spoiled.
In the mean time, allow me to present the following tirade, or his spoof on the cockamamie, e-mail hoaxes that were prevalent around the turn of this century:
Yesterday, I was on my way to the post office to pick up my case of free M&M’s, sent to me because I forwarded an e-mail to five other people, celebrating the fact that the year 2000 is “MM” in Roman numerals.
I ran into a friend, Alex, who said his neighbor, Frank, was home recovering from having been served a rat in his bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken (which is predictable, since, as everyone knows, there’s no actual chicken in their products, which is why the government made them change their name to KFC).
Anyway, on the night of the neighbor’s eating the rodent, he went to sleep. The guy awoke suddenly and found himself in a bathtub full of ice, sore all over. After getting out of the tub, this hapless dude realized: HIS KIDNEY HAD BEEN STOLEN.
A note on a mirror said, “Call 911,” but Frank couldn’t use the phone since it was connected to his computer that was downloading the latest Norton Antivirus software off the Internet.
He had found a diabolical virus in his e-mail bin which was allegedly hidden within a message entitled “Join the crew!”
The nasty nit was activated by opening the e-mail or simply deleting it, which was capable of destroying the machine’s entire hard drive.
Alex’s other neighbor, Shamus, happened to be there and said he knew “Join the crew!” wasn’t a hoax.
“It’s true,” Shamus said, and went on to explain about his brother, Amos, a computer programmer who was working on software under the directorship of Bill Gates.
Their goal is to prevent a global disaster in which all the world’s computers merge and distribute the $250.00 Neiman-Marcus cookie recipe.
I have to agree, having read it all last week in a mass e-mail sent by BILL GATES HIMSELF, also promising me a free Disney World vacation with $5,000, if I would forward the e-mail to everyone I know. Don’t be surprised if I send one to you.
Editor’s note: The time frame of these ramblings was during the days of dial-up, for which a computer’s modem had to be attached to a phone line to gain access to an ISP. At the time, something that was 10mb took several hours to download. Evidently the character in this story didn’t have a cellular phone. Now, back to the rant…
Frank ran over to Alex’s place to use his phone, evidently mis-dialing 911 to report his missing kidney, but ended up with someone on the line who first asked him to press #90, which unwittingly gave the scammer full access to the phone line.
Alex told me his bill ended up to be over $600, and he’s still fighting with the phone company about it.
Luckily for Frank, the hospital was only a few blocks away. It’s the one where that little boy is dying of cancer, whose last wish is for everyone in the world to send him an e-mail; and the American Cancer Society has agreed to pay him a nickel for every e-mail he receives.
I sent the kid two e-mails. One of them was a bunch of Xs and Os in the shape of an angel, forwarded to me by an e-mail compadre (if you get it and forward it to more than ten people, you will have good luck; sending to less than ten people will yield only “OK” luck; and if you send it to fewer than ten people, you will have BAD LUCK FOR SEVEN YEARS).
Frank left to drive himself to the hospital. Alex’s car was being serviced so my buddy couldn’t drive him.
On the way, Mr. Missing Kidney noticed an oncoming car was driving without its lights on. Intending to be helpful, he flashed his high beams at him and was promptly shot as part of a gang initiation.
Now, send THIS to all the friends who forward their junk mail to you, and you’ll receive four green M&Ms.
If you don’t, the owner of Proctor and Gamble will report you to his satanist friends; and you’ll get even more bad luck.
The sodium laureth sulfate in your shampoo will make you sick; your spouse/mate will develop a skin rash from using their antiperspirants—by clogging the pores under their arms—and the U.S. government will place a tax on your e-mails forever.
I know this is all true ’cause I read it on the Internet.
Over and out.