Someone's Space Dot C'Mawn

The internet's a funny place, shore 'nuff.

You might recognize the photo on the right. Until recently I didn't, though I figured out who she was when watching the movie Charlie Wilson's War. More on that here in a mo'.

Being the kind of character I am -- those of you who think you might know me, no more need be said on that -- I occasionally get interesting requests for 'help' from acquaintances. In the latter stages of '08, one work-place acquaintance asked me to set up a page on one of those networking, immensely-popular web pages for people to post about themselves and meet others.

But not as or about myself: she wanted me to set up a page and impersonate a woman. Why? To see if I could help her draw out a lowlife from her past, and arrange to lead his lowlife self into the hands of authorities that were kind of looking for him back in her hometown in another state (none of which will be named, for obvious reasons). She wanted me to do it, in case he was capable of tracking an IP address, and didn't want him to track back to her.

Don't that beat all.

I was candid with her about the chances of success here: they were less than a progressive demanding a tax cut (the hypocrites just don't pay their taxes, as we've recently seen). But eh...she's a friend, and if I could help lead a lowlife, goat-smelling, egg-sucking moonbat of dubious antecedence to some justice, why not? So I set up the page on the particular site. Made up a name (based on her suggestion of what interested him), used a few of those Russian scamstress photos I have in overabundance, and made up a history for "her", including using some locations from my own past, like my own high school, but of a more recent vintage than when I attended.

I set it up in the late fall, and using the tools of the networking site, sent the cad (who had his own page on the site) an 'invite'. As I warned my friend, it was a long shot. And so it proved: no response from Mr. Lowlife since the page was set up.

But I must say, the emails and other 'hits' the faux page has drawn, have been amusing. Especially the most recent one.

In January, I got an email solicitation from someone on the West Coast, offering my 'character' money to either (a) send him 'her' high school yearbook for keeps or (b) a lesser amount to allow him to copy and return the yearbooks within a week or so. A strange request, to be sure, until I read further into the email. Seems that a currently somewhat-famous Hollywood actress attended the high school that my 'character' had, and graduated about the same time my 'character' did, and he was after all of the yearbooks that she -- the somewhat-famous Hollywood actress -- was in.

Don't that beat all.

It was kind of amusing to learn that I attended the same high school as a currently somewhat-famous Hollywood actress. Granted, I graduated when this somewhat-famous Hollywood actress was...1 year old. But eh...had I managed to milk my basic education a few extra years, I could have graduated with this somewhat-famous Hollywood actress, and had an actual yearbook with someone somewhat-famous in it, that someone else wanted to pay me money for. But I digress delusionally.

Anyway, he wanted to buy my character's yearbook(s), to get all he could on this somewhat-famous Hollywood actress. It was time to hit *delete* and move on. But for those of you who think you know me, you saw this coming.....*TOING*

I had my 'character' reply to this entremanure (or whatever he really was) thus:

Fella,
I don't know you. I don't know what your intentions are. But (somewhat-famous Hollywood actress) is my friend, and I will NOT exploit her for whatever your purposes are. I will not sell, rent, or anything else our memories, our friendship, and her trust.

It took a couple days, but the solicitor wasn't much impressed with my character's answer to his offer:

Your reply is ridiculous. Your friend has publicists who sell her image for money all the time. Exploit her? You're an idiot.

Don't that beat all.

Well, my character couldn't resist an "Oh, YEAH?" return salvo:

Hey Schmuck,

What my friend chooses to do with HER image -- let's be clear on that point, it's HER image, not yours, not mine, but HERS -- is up to HER. Not to some unknown, dubious moron like you. You want her yearbook images so bad, grow some cajones, write to her and ASK HER YOURSELF. And there's nothing idiotic about protecting a friend, except perhaps to you, which doesn't say much for you. But since you're not MY or HER friend, no biggie.

That drew a very short, two word retort, the kind that is indicative of a progressive losing an argument, and having nothing further to offer but the parting insult.

Game, set and match to my character.

Not that this somewhat-famous Hollywood actress will ever know of this exchange, let alone the step taken by a high school alum separated by 17 years to, er, "defend her honor", so to speak. Heck, she might have even chosen to gleefully send this clown her high school yearbooks herself. But that's between her and him, if he ever figures out how to contact and ask her.

At any rate...amongst the chaff and nonsense that clutters the pagewaves of a certain networking space dot com, there rests a profile. A profile of a woman. One with something of a Russian/Irish mix to her name, and a kind of sassy profile with suggestive, if not entirely provocative, pictures.

Don't bother writing to it ;-)

Mwhahahahahaha.