Help! I am being porn-shamed
Here’s a teaser: what have Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian, Jennifer Lawrence (inset) and I all got in common? Slut-shaming, that’s what! Or, in my case, porn-shaming.
A few days ago I got an email from someone calling themselves Daniel Allen.
Now, “Daniel” had obviously been inspired by the Uber data breach, when the company paid off its hackers on the QT in a bid to bury bad news.
With a subject line “I do not really want this. But I am prepared”, Daniel set about porn-shaming me.
Yes, folks, apparently he’d seen me “pleasuring myself ” on a webcam and was ready to do the dirty and forward the evidence to everyone in my contacts list. No matter that the only pleasuring I do at my computer is with a furtive glass of Spanish white and a cheeky gruyere twist, Daniel was pretty convinced he’d seen me up to no good.
“I do not presume to judge you. I do not think that caress oneself is very amiss, but when all your acquaintances see it – its definitely awful. So, closer to the point. You visited the internet with porn, which I’ve placed with the virus. Then you clicked on a video, virus started working. Its very amusingly.”
Don’t you just love him already? Then he suggests I buy him off
with $350 worth of Bitcoins (no, me neither), paid into his account to “finish our problem”, and gives me a 30-hour deadline. Hmmm. What would Uber do?
“Finally, you can ask police for help, but, obviously, they will not find me for one day, so you will be shamed at all. Sorry for misprints, I am foreign.” Aaah! So sweet to apologise for his grammar while extorting money from me. I was sorely tempted to reply thus: “Dear Trusted Friend, I am Prince Kufour Otumfuo the elder son of the late King Otumfuo Opoku ware II whose demise occur following a brief illness. Before the death of my father, King Otumfuo Opoku ware II, I was authorised and officially known as the next successor and beneficiary of my father’s property…” But I didn’t. Instead, I await my shame with bated breath. So if you do receive a picture of me wantonly caressing a glass of albariño, delete it. And tell no one. Please.