Last week I received a very disturbing e-mail at work. The description read: “Russian Prostitutes Want To Make You Cune”. I thought I had received this in error, until later in the day when I received a second e-mail. There was no mistake. Russian prostitutes were indeed pursuing me.
The e-mail was very strange for several reasons. They didn’t even try to trick me by saying “Russian Ladies”. Why they think I am interested in prostitutes, I don’t know. Hey, does this imply they think I have to pay for it?
And what is so special about “Russian” prostitutes? Russian women are beautiful, but these are still Eastern-European chicks, right? I don’t think they cost any less than other prostitutes. I assume you pay in dollars, not rubles, so the exchange rate is not an issue. But how did these women get into our country anyway? I know we have an immigration problem but with Europeans we have U.S. security officers who are trained to subdue these ladies and give them intense, private, interrogations --- oh, never mind.
And then they want to make me “cune”. This is not a misprint because it was repeated in several e-mails. Look, I am an American citizen and I have certain inalienable rights which I’m sure include life, liberty and not being forced to cune against my will. So I’m not going to succumb to the wishes of any prostitute, let alone a Russian one!
I was very concerned about these Russian prostitutes because they seemed very aggressive and of course they knew where I worked. Before leaving that night, I checked out the window to make sure there were not Russian prostitutes draped over my car. Then I ran to my car, lest the ladies grab me, take me behind the bushes, and make me cune. I checked the back of my car to make sure no Russians were hiding there. It would have been difficult to explain this to my wife: “Honey, Svetlana followed me home. Can I keep her?”
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Once home, I was afraid to answer the door or the phone. If these women knew where I worked, surely they knew where I lived. I did google “cune” and it returned “cuneiform writing”. So I’m guessing these kinky ladies want to constrain me and force me to communicate with them using hieroglyphics.
The next day there were more e-mails. These women were not going to stop until they had made me cune. I reported the e-mails to an IT co-worker. He advised me not to open the link because I could get a virus. “Duh”, I said. “These are Russian prostitutes; I could catch a lot worse than that!” He explained that I could get a “computer virus” and then I remembered one of the most embarrassing incidents of my business career.
In May of 2000, the “I Love You Virus” infected millions of computers worldwide. It is one of the most infamous computer viruses ever. One morning at work I received an e-mail from “Bodacious Barb” in accounting, with the subject line: “I Love You”. If this e-mail came from gay Ben in finance, or old Phyllis in purchasing, I would have quickly deleted it. Now Barb wasn’t that attractive, but she was indeed “bodacious”, so I opened the e-mail. The message just said “I love you”. I did think it very odd of her to send this to me and I wondered how I should act around Barb the next time we met.
An hour later I received an e-mail from IT warning that if you receive an e-mail with “I Love You” in the subject line, that under no circumstances should you open it or you risk doing massive damage to the company’s computer system and could actually cause the building to collapse killing everyone.
The IT guy was very upset with me for opening the e-mail. As he worked to clean the virus off my computer, we had the following conversation:
IT Guy: Why did you open this e-mail that had a virus in it?
Me: I didn’t know it had a virus in it until I opened it.
IT Guy: You should have known it was a virus because it said “I Love You”
Me: When the woman with the biggest breasts in the company sends you an e-mail that says “I Love You”, you have an obligation as a guy to open it.
He then just looked at me stunned and confused. I wanted to then say: “Look geek-boy, it’s time to quit playing so many video games and get a life!”
So if the Russian Prostitutes are reading this blog post: It’s over between us. Please leave me alone. I am not interested in your offer. I do not want you to make me cune. Go find someone else to make cune. And if these e-mails are from Bodacious Barb pretending to be a Russian Prostitute: Sorry Barb, you infected me once and that is a real turn-off.