If you ever get hotmailed by this Russian Robber, I mean, “lady” – she is pulling on your legs. Both of them. While slipping her oily sly fingers into your trouser pocket to tickle out a Visa card (preferably platinum)
I immediately delete this kind of nonsense usually.
But my self-esteem was at a bit of a low ebb, so – y’know, – I opened it.
This is what I read
Hello dear friend
I see your structure on a site of dating fling.com
(My “structure” was never on any fling. Where did this “she” get my address from? Perturbing.)
And both decided to write to you.
(Yes. Both her and her pimp)
My name: Svetlana
(A beautiful Russian name. Means: I exist to swindle you out of every penny/kopeck you’ve got)
I want you warned. I of Russia, and I have a woman who just do not want a deception.
(This email was red flagged in freshly concocted Russian blood: WARNING. I AM OUT TO CHEAT AND CON YOU BIG TIME. Well, you wanted it darlin – and I got it)
I wish you had warned once. I search for serious attitudes. I am looking for marriage and love. I do not play games. If you want to play with me, then do not write for me.
(Thats ok then. Cus I won’t be writing for you. Unless I want to play with you. Playing the games with you you’re not playing with me)
If you are looking also for true and pure attitude then I shall wait with impatience your letter.
(True and pure attitude my arse! You’re a fucking mafia mobster. I got you taped mate)
I send you as pictures, and I hope to receive your replacement.
(That picture has been lifted from whatever the Russian equivalent of Elle magazine is. You will receive my replacement: I’ve just replaced it from out of Nuts)
I will study, so you can help me, even with what we should do.
(Basically this means: you come over here to learn English, I’ll help you speak it. You help me spend my money, I’ll be your fantasized rich English Sugar Daddy)
I hope we learn that the friend, best friend about the future.
(I reckon at least a year in a Language School is needed Svetlana my sweet. Or maybe, even better, locked up inside one of Her Majesties Special Institutions: Prison)
Overall, it was easier for us.
(Easy as in loose, or even incomprehensible. I don’t know what your bleedin going on about girl)
I am a happy person love life and desire to be happy.
(Ok, that’s good. So why not carry on being a “love life happy person” in Russia?. I’ll tell you why. Cus Russia stinks. Of prostitution and corruption)
I of Russia, the city where I live, St. Petersburg. I am very beautiful city. I do not really talk about the city.
(No, I’m not surprised you don’t want to talk about where you live. Its where certain shady ladies of the night live. Begins with B, rhymes with offal)
I hope you, I of Russia should not be confused.
(I confused. Vari mani. That sentence was designed to be sent straight to the Baffled of British Brain department)
My birthday in February, 19 1980. I anniversary.
(No, you were born about 2 hours ago. Inside the head of some Englishly-challenged, identity-thefting, cyber-hacking, racketeer)
It is very beautiful day to be happy again.
(“She’s” off a bleedin gain. Yes, and i’d be making the day even more beautiful if I come back at you panting my balls off – you’d be vari happy then)
It is pleasant for me, I wish that we continue our friends that we have not lost our interest in us.
(I have lost the total interest in Us to be honest, I have Svetlana. You’re the most boring Trojan Russian Robot I’ve ever had the misfortune not to be bamboozled by)
Dear friend, that our desire was great fun. It is nice to know we talk about a friend of a friend.
(I didn’t realise we were talking about a friend of a friend. I thought you – my sweet Svetlana succubus you – were about as close to me as a fart is to the arse that’s stunk it)
Forgive me please, but I should go. I wish you wrote for me more than I knew more about you.
(Yes, The more about me you can’t wait to get your greedy Soviet hands on: my Bank account pin number and password)
Svetlana
Dear sweet Svetlana, I was not duped . Oh no. Noooooo not me.
In fact, would any right minded, sensible, reasonably rational, grown up, adult, British male be taken in by this poo-ey pile of hooey?
Those naïve Nigels and gormless Grahams might be sucked in by sweet Svet of course. She’d strip them naked.
Of their identities.
Online. And offline.
Then fuck them right up their fat wobbly arses wallets.