I just finished Christmas shopping…I usually like to shop locally, but what I needed I got online. I know, I am a jerk-wad. But I go out of my way to buy local…and I’m not made of money…I’m mostly made of smart-assed comments and, if I am to believe children’s limericks, puppy dog tails.

Back to the meat and potatoes of this blog. Online shopping. Tom Robinson did a story about the ACH computer virus deal earlier this week or late last week. Remember? I can’t forget it, I got a whole slew of them emails…I didn’t click on them, at least I don’t think I did…No, I am sure that I didn’t. But from what I understood about the virus, it’s a keystroke recorder. So everything that you type gets shipped off to, what I assume is a Fat Russian, sitting in front of a laptop, in a rundown living room with a bunch of empty STVEKOLI Vodka bottles scattered across the floor, occasionally yelling at a half starved dog that keeps whizzing in the corner, while his mail-order reject of a bride is in the kitchen burning the stereotypical Russian dish…I can’t think of one…what the hell do Russians eat? Anyway, it tracks what you type and that’s how they get your information.

This scares me, even though I am certain I am not at risk…so I went a step further to protect myself. I pulled up the on-screen keyboard and clicked in my credit card number…which felt weird…and who cares if they get my card number. The most damage they could do is a couple hundred bucks…and they might need that to figure out what in the crap Russians eat. Seriously! I just ‘Googled’ it…soup, pickles and vodka. Seriously. I feel bad for not clicking on that virus now.

And on the off chance I did click on the virus, Dear Fat Russian, WHAT DO YOU GUYS EAT?