I was getting ready to leave for the Motorsports Expo this afternoon when the phone rang. “Hello. I am trying to reach L. Wylam?”
The same computer scammers who called me the other week.
Now, some of you might know I have a bit of a sailor’s mouth….Lisa used to call it “voluntary Tourette’s,” and was sure she had it as well, but I mean: COME ON: Put yourself in my place—They even called for Lisa? That’s one of those Jon Stewart moments, sports fans: “Fuck me? Oh no, no, no, no, no, my friend. FUCK YOU.” Followed by the “GO FUCK YOURSELF” Chorus (who I much love).
Now, dear folks, I said things that even I regret, but here’s a redacted transcript: “OH—(cue creepy, vengeful laughter) I’ve been waiting to hear from you again—YOU COCKSUCKING, MOTHERFUCKING SCAMMER ASSFUCKS, GUESS WHAT? I ALREADY REPORTED YOU. THE COPS ARE CLOSING IN EVEN AS WE SPEAK. AND MEANWHILE, JUST IMAGINE WHAT I’M GOING TO DO TO YOU. DON’T WORRY ABOUT WHAT YOU’RE GOING TO DO TO ME. YOU CAN’T DO FUCK. I’M COMING FOR YOU. AND EVERYTHING YOU LOVE.
And then, no shit, the guy says: “I will get my supervisor.”
The next guy comes on, and says, “I need to speak to L. Wylam—”
Please remember, Lisa and I were both Profanitarians. I remain faithful and always will be. Now: I hope you’ll understand that when that waste of sperm on the other end of the line used the letter L that was all I needed. Suddenly, there were no human limits on my speech. I can’t repeat what I said, but it embarrasses me right now to remember it.
And then the “Supervisor,” well, he went there:
“Put your daughter on the phone.”
“What the fuck did you just say?”
“I want to fuck your daughter. Put her on the phone.”
I ask you, would you control your own speech at that point? I went on to tell him other things about his parentage, his physical resemblance to various farm animals in coitus. And then: “Look, I’m tired of playing this game with you cocksuckers. I already know you’re just lowlife scam motherfuckers….”
And then the Supervisor simply burst out with “ALL RIGHT. YOU’RE RIGHT! WE ARE SCAMMERS! GIVE US YOUR CREDIT NUMBERS! WE’LL FUCK YOUR DAUGHTER, WE’LL FUCK YOUR WIFE—”
So I said, “My daughter is incommunicado and my wife is dead. Corpse-fucking is illegal everywhere I’m aware of. I think you’re shit out of luck, cockhole.”
And then the line went dead. To be honest, I was starting to have fun. See, if I hadn’t yelled so much, maybe I could’ve strung them along a little more. It was fun listening to criminals squirm because they were caught and I knew they knew it.
I have only one more word on the subject, because I have much better, happier news to consider, but for now only one more word on the subject of those scammers:
COCKSUCKERS. In the Al Swearingen sense. I was channeling a mix of Lisa and Al the whole time. God, it felt good.
BTW, if ANYONE ever calls you and says they’re from Windows, they’re a scam. Windows will never call you. Hundreds of people in the GTA get scammed every year. Those criminals can most definitely GO FUCK THEMSELVES.