I’m telling you, scammers must either think I’m dumber than a bag of wet mice, or that someone in the quality control department at Scam Central must have been on a bathroom break when they sent out this latest blast.
This came to me via a text message. Now, my BlackBerry KEYone is smart enough to know what’s text spam and what’s not text spam, but I did get a glimpse of this little message.
Point of contention. If you want to understand me, call me Chuck. Calling me Charles means that you really don’t know me, you only know my official government name. I consider Charles the name for rich people and snobs. And Charlie’s not much better, there’s Choo Choo Charlie and Good Time Charlie and that stinkwater perfume from the 1970’s. Chuck is fine.
Second point of contention. If you don’t know whether to call me Charles or Chuck, then “Mr. Miller” is just fine.
But apparently the scammers must think I’ve changed my name to First name.
Why else would I receive this little message?
Let’s see. Our delivery truck. I wonder who “our” is. USPS, UPS? FedEx? Flying Tigers? Some little kid who festooned his Schwinn with baseball cards in the spokes, streamers on the handlebars, a vinyl flag on the banana seat, and a fake plastic handlebar basket?
You weren’t at home. Well, maybe because “you” were looking for First name Miller. He don’t live here. Neither does Mrs. First name Miller, or the little kids Middle name, Last name, and their adopted kid Sur name.
We still have your parcel ready for delivery. Sure you do. Yeah-huh. You don’t know where I live, you don’t know who I am, but you know you have a parcel for me. You know? You don’t know. And once you don’t know, you can’t un-don’t know.
Oh, look, a website called trackmyparcel10.com, along with a sub-URL. I don’t want to completely call it out as spam, but seriously, it should be served with a side order of Lobster Thermidor aux crevettes with a Mornay sauce, served in a Provençale manner with shallots and aubergines, garnished with truffle pâté, brandy and a fried egg on top and Spam.
But again, this is just another way that spammers try to trick you. I bet if I clicked on that link, some nasty computer virus or ransomware or stinky stuff would surge through my phone, turning my BlackBerry into a BrickBerry.
And that ain’t happening. No way, no how.
Now, kids, you all know what we say to spammers, right?
Hey, Spammers – go kick rocks!
Seriously; the stupidity of most scam attempts is so high you have to wonder why they continue to try it. The failure rate must be near 100%, mustn’t it? Please don’t tell me enough people fall for this rubbish to make it worth the scammers’ while to continue. I’d rather believe they’re so dumb they don’t know enough to quit while they’re behind.
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