Up to my Eyeballs in Internet Scams

Madame Bogamil Doudou and her Nigerian Friends Let Me Down Again

By Joan Opyr, 8-22-06

Dear Readers:

I have good news! I no longer have to work. Turns out I’m an heiress. I didn’t know I was an heiress until I received the following notice via email:

"FINAL NOTIFICATION,

Get back to me immediately for necessary steps concerning your Inheritance claim, Sequel to your non reply of my earlier email to you dated 02/08/05, and on behalf of the Trustees and Executors to the Will of Mr. Sullivan my client deceased in 2002. I wish to notify you that your response will help in the codicil and last statement of the deceased and your will be entitled to his fund worth USD$9.7 million dollars deposited with INVESTMENT BANKING AND TRUST COMPANY PLC. (IBTC)

I will advise you about the steps on how to redeem the inheritance funds from The bank. Reply me on time because the bank is waiting for you to show up and Claim the funds. I will appreciate your timely response.

Regards,

Barrister Charles Okeke.
Legal Head,
Charles and Co. Chambers.
34 Allen Avenue Ikeja,
Lagos-Nigeria."

Amazing! I've never been to Nigeria, and I don't know Barrister Charles Okeke, but never mind. A few weeks ago, I won the Netherlands lottery, and someone called Madame Bogamil Doudou has been trying to deposit millions into my bank account for ages. All I need to do is send her my Social Security number, and I'll be richer than Anna-Nicole Smith. That I'll achieve this without having to spend a single connubial night with a mummified, oxygen-huffing, Texas millionaire is a special added bonus.

I'm a busy woman, Mr. Okeke. I am tired, Madame Doudou. You see, I'm trying to help my 84-year old grandmother come to terms with her irrational fear of identity theft. Yes, it happens, but it doesn't happen because you have failed to shred those free address labels that the American Cancer Foundation sent you. You know, those address labels that bear your old address, now many months or even years out of date?

But wait! There's more:

"From: Mrs. Gudrun Riedel Dahmoune, Mutual Trust

Greetings to you,

I am the above named person undergoing medical treatment now. I was married to Dr. John Dahmoune who worked with erithean [sic] Embassy in Germany as a diplomat and a bussiness [sic] man for over 6 years before his untimely death in the year December 2004.

We were married for eleven years without a child. He died after a brief illness that lasted for only four days. Before his death we were both Christians. Since his death I decided not to re-marry or get a child outside my matrimonial home, which my religion is against. When my late husband was alive he deposited the sum of $27.6Million (twenty-seven million six hundred thousand U.S. Dollars) with one finance/security office in Europe."

Hmm. I wonder if Mrs. Gudrun Riedel Dahmoune knows Madame Bogamil Doudou? Perhaps I should facilitate an introduction by forwarding this email to Madame Doudou's address? How do you pronounce Doudou anyway? Is it doo-doo or dodo? No matter. It looks as if poor (rich) Mrs. Dahmoune might not make it through the night. She's about to kick the bucket:

"Presently, this money is still with the Security/ Finance Company. Recently, my Doctor told me that I would not last for the next three months due to [a] cancer problem."

A cancer problem? Is that worse than a word problem? I always hated word problems. If Mrs. Dahmoune and Madame Doudou are both speeding emails into my inbox at 3 gigabytes per second, and Barrister Charles Okeke is speeding his at 4 gigabytes, which will I delete first? Who’s on second? I don’t know. Third base?

Meanwhile, Mrs. Dahmoune's condition worsens:

"Though what disturbs me most is my stroke."

What stroke? Heat stroke? With her cancer problem, what is Mrs. Dahmoune doing out in the sun? Or does she mean her golf stroke? If so, then again, what's she doing out in the sun?

"Having known my condition I decided to donate this fund to a foundation or better still a Christian individual that will utilize this money the way I am going to instruct here in. I want an individual that will use this to fund missions, orphanages and widows and other good charity deeds . . . . I took this decision because I don’t have any child that will inherit this money and my husband’s relatives are not Christians and I don't want my husband’s hard earned money to be misused by unbelievers."

Um, Mrs. Dahmoune? I’m not a Christian. If you give me your money, I can't say that I'll misuse it, but I will take a fat chunk and buy myself a Ford Shelby GT500 before I do anything else. Yes, I'm sympathetic to the plight of the world's orphans, but I've got a lead foot and a need for speed. Life is nasty, brutish and short. But, of course, you already know that.

Oh, dear. I fear I don't meet Mrs. Dahmoune’s requirements at all. Look at this:

"I don't want a situation where this money will be used in an ungodly manner, hence the reason for taking this bold decision. I am not afraid of death hence I know where I am going. I know that I am going to be in the bosom of the Lord."

And I am going straight to the bosom of Angelina Jolie. If she won't have me (damn that Brad Pitt, anyway) then I'm going to the bosom of Jennifer Tilly, or Katherine Moennig, or Sarah Bettens, or, well, you get the picture, Mrs. Dahmoune. As I've been happily married to the same woman for fifteen years, this going to other bosoms business is bound to get me into some trouble. I will need to spend at least part of your 27.6 million on attorneys' fees, plus publicity agents, professional stylists, and production on my very own, very pointless VH1 reality show. A camera crew needs to follow me and my trashy little dog around as we waste money, gain and lose fifty pounds, enter rehab, leave rehab, enter rehab again, and get a set of double-D breast implants. (The double Ds are in honor of you and Madame Doudou, my would-be benefactors.)

The very pious Mrs. Dahmoune continues to exhort me:

“Exodus 14 VS 14 says that the lord will fight my case and I shall hold my peace. I don't need any telephone communication in this regard because of my health, and because of the presence of my husband's relatives around me always. I don't want them to know about this development. As soon as I receive your reply I shall give you the contact of the Finance/Security Company Europe. I will also issue you a letter of authority that will empower you as the original-beneficiary of this fund. I want you to always pray for me because the lord is my shepherd. My happiness is that I lived a life of a worthy Christian. Whoever that wants to serve the Lord must serve him in spirit and truth. Please always be prayerful all through your life."

Okay, Mrs. Dahmoune. If it will make you happy, I'll be prayerful. I will pray for your 27.6 million dollars, for my legacy from Barrister Okeke, for that temporary deposit in my bank account from the determined Madame Doudou, and for my check (no, make that cheque) from the Dutch lottery. Pay me enough, and I'll pray all day – just like Jimmy Swaggart! Only my prayers won't be Christian, and I'll have to put something of a gay twist on them.

I will be sincere, though; I promise. I will pray for your recovery from your cancer problem, your heat stroke, your difficulties with spelling, punctuation, and your late husband's heathen relations. Just remember, though, no backsies!

"Understand that we must keep this contact secret as possible that way we can be focused on the fact that you have claimed the money successfully and commence on what we have discussed."

Whoops! Does it matter that I've shared your secret missive with the readers of New West? And my friends? And my relatives? And several credit card companies? What about my accountant? Actually, I don't have an accountant, but if you give me 27.6 million, I’ll probably need one. I’ll also need an entourage, a helicopter, and someone to rub my tired little tootsies. Toting all of that money around is exhausting. I mean look -- it's killing you.

"Any delay in your reply will give me room in sourcing for a reliable individual for this same purpose. Please assure me that you will act accordingly as I stated herein.

Please reply me through my private email: mrsgudrun@yahoo.com.hk

Remain blessed
Mrs. Gudrun Riedel Dahmoune"

Remain blessed? As in blessed be the lie that finds Internet saps? I want my money, Mrs. Dahmoune, and I want it now. You owe me -- you, and Madame Doudou, and Barrister Charles Okeke, not to mention those clowns at the Netherlands lottery. I haven't received so much as a tulip bulb from them. The soles of my wooden clogs have worn thin. I have no sports car. I have no entourage. How can you be so cruel?

I may already be a winner, you know. Ed McMuffin told me so.

Like this story? Get more! Sign up for our free newsletters.