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The world has changed significantly, in a short amount of time.  Technology, perhaps making the greatest strides. While not an expert in the world of computers and it’s communication capabilities, I find their avenues of keeping in touch and making those communications may be more difficult than once thought.  


Simple messages of love shouldn’t be complicated, so when I received a heart response from a woman to my post indicating,  trafficking exotic armadillos should be driven to a halt, you can certainly understand my thoughts. After collecting information from her facebook, background check on her and four of her friends and hacking the computer for her library account, I found her satisfactory. Well apparently, local police agencies and the F.B.I. do not find my thoughts  and/or methods appropriate.


Two hundred miles from my home in Michigan and on the porch of a woman that professed her love for me with a heart, I was manhandled while peering through her living room window, by police officers.  I laughed and explained, Laurie would explain everything. As it turns out, Laurie does exist, but lives in Laredo, Texas and has never been to this part of the country. The man using her name is a truck driver who was subsequently arrested for various computer indiscretions.  I was released from jail two weeks later, telling the police I suspected this all along and was just doing some amateur sleuthing. Why I didn’t bring this up upon my arrest was brought up. Chest out and shoulders back, at least as best I could, I proclaimed, “I didn’t know who I could trust.”  Back home I went, sans any civic award, trophy or even a bobblehead in my honor for bringing this criminal down. Oh, I didn’t leave unscathed. I was to attend eight hours of Facebook Emoticon training.


Thanks to my narcissistic tendencies, I quickly adopted my version of events as truth and moved on.  Completing the class and signing a document, that I understood a heart emoticon did not mean love was in the offing, I returned to a happy and normal life.


Two years later, I was savagely ambushed by a gang of n'ere dowells, dragged to a third story apartment balcony and tossed from it.  Preceding the pummeling, I was strolling down the street and as usual minding my own business. The police, elderly couple living there and several co-conspirators, would have you believe otherwise.  The hasty ‘investigation’ declared, no assaulting criminals existed and after scaling the building, I fell from the old liar’s balcony. I mean, who are you going to believe.


Two years later, as you  read this, I have been released to general population from the hospital ward in prison and am still healing from the injuries. My crafty court appointed attorney has restructured our appeal strategy and asserts the old man and woman were part of the gang and took part in the beating with their respective walkers.  What will always remain a mystery is what in hell the old liars were doing there. The message on Facebook clearly stated, “young vivacious woman looking for love,”

Cautionary Tale

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