Hackers Should Rot

This morning I got to work sort of jazzed, due to the fact that it was Friday (as jazzed as one can be at 6am). As I was sipping my beloved vanilla latte, I perused my email. Lo and behold, there was an email from myself. It was sent at 3:33am, which, to my knowledge was when I was still asleep. Wow! I must be some kind of freaking computer genius to be able to telepathically email during REM sleep. Plus, I apparently thought it was Talk Like Sylvester Stallone Day, since my subject line started with “Yo, Kim...”. I do believe my home email got hacked, for the second time in six months. Bastards! Seriously douche-baggery was afoot. Why do people hack? Is someone so unhappy they have to try to outsmart total strangers and mess with their privacy? At the bottom of the bad emails that were sent in my name, were quotes from movies. These were various versions of “neener, neener, neener”. The one I received was a quote by Obi Wan Kenobi which referenced being fooled. What did I do to warrant this, and how is someone getting my passwords? I would suspect an inside job, but am pretty sure my dogs can’t type. Stella is too busy pooping in the living room to mess with my laptop. Cosmo cares more about eating and sniffing butts. And Lucy just wants to be left alone. My husband is not a suspect either. So, the culprit must be a total stranger - one who needs to be rousted from where he is living, possibly in his parent’s basement, and forced to pay for his dirty tricks. I suppose jail time is a little over the top, but I would like the Hacker to spend the day with me. First off - Living room poop patrol (no bags, just fingers). Then, I’d send him two doors down to the Psycho Neighbor’s house with a plate of cookies. That would keep her chatting with him for a good couple of hours about spaceships, gang violence, and why nobody should park in front of her house. Tee hee. After that, I would march the Hacker around the nearest mall wearing a sign saying “Will twerk for food”. Endless possibilities. I am smarter and more clever than the Hacker, at least in my brain. He can’t touch that.