Ok, I made that last part up, but I really hope it’s true. 

Michelle Malkin gets the story behind the hack, and it is absolutely fascinating (and frightening at the same) time, to say the least.

The offending alleged hacker was a guy called rubico, and he wrote to an anonymous board that was ground zero for this madness, explaining his actions and how he did it:

In the past couple days news had come to light about palin using a yahoo mail account, it was in news stories and such, a thread was started full of newf&*s trying to do something that would not get this off the ground, for the next 2 hours the acct was locked from password recovery presumably from all this bullsh%^ spamming.

after the password recovery was reenabled, it took seriously 45 mins on wikipedia and google to find the info, Birthday? 15 seconds on wikipedia, zip code? well she had always been from wasilla, and it only has 2 zip codes (thanks online postal service!)

the second was somewhat harder, the question was “where did you meet your spouse?” did some research, and apparently she had eloped with mister palin after college, if youll look on some of the screensh*&ts that I took and other fellow anon have so graciously put on photobucket you will see the google search for “palin eloped” or some such in one of the tabs.

I found out later though more research that they met at high school, so I did variations of that, high, high school, eventually hit on “Wasilla high” I promptly changed the password to popcorn and took a cold shower…

Seriously, that’s all it took.  Request Yahoo to send you password recovery, answer the personal questions right, and presto you can change the password and get access.  If the “hacker” has enough personal information about you, he can successfully answer the questions and bypass Yahoo’s fluffy security measures and do God only knows what to your account.  So really, the guy wasn’t even a hacker, just a clever, (albeit at the same time monumentally stupid) prankster who is now probably getting his face  phonebook-bashed in by the Secret Service even as we speak.

But the beautiful thing is, after all that, he found… nothing.

I read though the emails… ALL OF THEM… before I posted, and what I concluded was anticlimactic, there was nothing there, nothing incriminating, nothing that would derail her campaign as I had hoped, all I saw was personal stuff, some clerical stuff from when she was governor…. And pictures of her family

I then started a topic on /b/, peeps asked for pics or gtfo and I obliged, then it started to get big

Yeah, no kidding.  Dumbass.

Of course, this doesn’t stop the Palin Bigots from having a field day and questioning her intelligence because she uses Yahoo Mail for personal use and getting off on having her daughter’s cell and voicemail and whatnot.  Well dudes, I use Yahoo too, (in fact two Yahoo accounts), so um, F^&* you?

And really, I can’t imagine the courage it must have taken to go after somebody’s children and family like that.  Really now, you anonymous liberals are just a beacon of unparalleled bravery and valor.  Don’t agree with a woman’s politics?  Let’s attack the kids!  That’ll show them stupid hick Christians who didn’t have the sense to have abortions when they should have gotten them!

God I hate moonbat DailyKos sucking liberals.

Update: The “Hacker?”

God he even LOOKS like a dumbass. 

One thing I can’t stand about the effort to drive more traffic to a site is the almost mandatory need to play suck ass to some high traffic megablog in the hopes that maybe, someday, somehow, they might acknowledge your puny existence for one microsecond and throw a fraction of their gazillion readers and visitors your way.

If I write a post I think is particularly funny, charming and relevant, I email a link to it to a couple of high profile bloggers, then pray, beg, sacrifice chickens and hope hope hopey o’ change hope that it doesn’t disappear into the darkest catacombs of that blogger’s inbox, never to be seen again.

Except that of course it does, because I am a speck of dust who can never evolve to the point that I could successfully grab their attention, though mostly I think it’s because I’m not a hot babe who blogs in her underwear (and leaves up a webcam to prove that she does in fact, blog in her underwear.)

Makes me feel like I’m in high school all over again, trying to get into an exclusive, elitist club that nobody wants me to be in, partly because they weren’t even aware of my existence, and if the time should ever come that they did become aware, then they’d rue the day I was born.  It seems that I can only inspire either indifference or sheer, unadulterated hatred.

All I can really do then is watch from the sidelines while these successful bloggers happily fondle each other and share links and traffic and readers, and yet I myself can only but trudge endlessly in the mud of Google irrelevancy.  It all seems so unfair, because really, all I’m asking for is a microcosm of acknowledgment, just a F*%&ING link or two from your millions-of-hits-a-month blog that takes all of two seconds to post, which would at least give me a fighting chance to succeed.  And I’m not even doing it for me, I’m doing it to help my sick, sick Mommy, who I can’t fully care for unless I can find a way to supplement my already heavily taxed salary.  A link for a life.  That’s all it takes, but noooooo, I’m not in your “speeeeeecial” club see, and worse yet, I’m not a half-naked chick prancing around my blog and uploading sultry looking photos of myself to Flickr either, so therefore I’m not worth the poopie poo on your shoe.

Well screw you big boy, and screw this ridiculous internet caste system we’ve made for ourselves.  A-list blogs and B-List blogs and C-list blogs and whatnot?  F&^% that.  I got my own label: the One-of-a-kind, All-night-long, I-am-your-Daddy’s-Master Blog.

And this club can only fit one member, baby:  Me. 

Remember when I wrote about tweaking my dating profile before?  I finally got around to uploading the changes on a major dating site the night before.  6 hours later I get this email:

Some of your comments were flagged for review and were found to be inappropriate, and your profile was edited.  We would like to remind you that any defamatory, inaccurate, abusive, obscene, profane, offensive sexually oriented, threatening, harassing, racially offensive, or illegal material or any material that infringes or violates another party’s rights is not allowed…

The portion that triggered the review was my “threat” to superimpose the face of any Obama worshipping girl over a picture of Richard Simmons, and then spreading those photos around the Internet.  Yes, really.

Actually I could see how this might worry some people. 

Yep, I got another rejection letter lined up, this time in response to a Craigslist ad that I could swear I never posted, and yet somehow it got posted anyway.   Don’t worry though, this is my last one because I am so, so, SO done with this whole dating-relationship crap.  I am finally going full on Lone Ranger here, and bite me all of you who think I can’t be happy being single.

So anyways, why am I rejecting this one?  Because dude, she totally looked like a guy.  Seriously.   She’s British though, so that might explain a few things, but still, dude, she really totally looked like a guy.  Here’s my farewell email to her:

Dear Look-Like-A-Man,

I wanted to like you.   I really did.  But see, here’s the thing: you look like a man.   A man wearing a pretty blonde wig, but a man nonetheless.

I can deal with plain looking women.  I can deal with women who are overweight.   I can deal with women who have disabilities and missing body parts (unless it’s the head maybe.)  I can even deal with women who watch reality shows.  I cannot however, in this life or the next, deal with a woman who looks like a man.

Even slightly mannish features creep me out in ways not even Richard Simmons could do.  There’s just no way I could see myself embracing you intimately or puckering up to give you a kissy without my inwards screaming out, “MAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!!!!!”

So you see, it’s not you, it’s me.  I do hope though that you will someday meet that special guy who thinks a mustache on a woman is sexy, and that the two of you will be very happy together.  I however, must sadly follow another path.

So, best of luck to you, and here’s a little parting advice: do try to shave every now and then, ok?

Much love,

Lincoln

No of course I didn’t send it, but I was in a conundrum.  I didn’t want to blow her off, but I didn’t want to tell her straight up that I was only interested in women who looked like women either, so what’s a stud like me to do?

Then a thought came to me: make her think she’s rejecting ME instead.   Brilliant!

So I did some surfing to find the dweebiest, weeniest photo that still looked authentic enough for me to use as a picture of “myself,” then wrote her a friendly email in which I casually mentioned being heavily in debt and living with my parents, but she needn’t worry, I worked a prestigious job as a low-level clerk, so it should only be just a few more years before I can finally move out on my own.   Say, when I’m 36 or so…

Here’s the photo I used.  Poor guy, whoever he is I hope he never sees this post:

It’s been a few days now and I have yet to receive a response from her.  Dude, I awesomely rock.

You know, it never fails that as soon as I join a dating site, I start getting deluged with “winks” and “nudges” from women (at least I think they’re women) who look like they could be the very reason why we have a worldwide food shortage.

Usually I respond in a polite manner, but now that the the evilness of women have pretty much stamped out whatever remaining charity I used to have, I kinda lost patience for this crap now.

The latest one to send me a wink hails from Michigan, employed under the prestigious title of a cashier, and who writes, “I define myself ultimately as a fun-loving girl who has a big heart.”

Yep, not to mention a Godzilla sized body to go with it.

I was in a good mood though, so I decided to write her a simple, polite note declining interest:

Dear Ugly All Day,

I’m sorry, you must have confused me for a blind man. I took a look at your photo but all I could see was a beached whale. Oh, that was you? Well then, here’s a little advice: if elevators can only go down when you step into one, that might be an indicator that you really shouldn’t upload pictures of yourself that will either induce violent seizures or cause permanent blindness. There are just some things in life we should never look directly at: one being the sun, and two being any photo that has you in it.

I’m thrilled to see though that at the tender age of 24, you’ve managed to work your way up from being a cashier to being… uh… a cashier. No doubt you intend to use the skills you’ve learned from working the cash machine to someday count your future husband’s money. Sadly though, I will not be that guy. For one thing, I would prefer that the experience of embracing the girl of my dreams not be equivalent to trying to hug a wrecking ball, but that’s just me.

So good luck to you, and who knows, maybe someday you’ll find a guy who doesn’t mind being with someone who’s able to set off tornadoes in the Midwest just by sneezing.

Much Love,

Lincoln

I had the cursor on the “Send” button, but just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Still too much of a nice guy I guess, but don’t worry, as women continue to piss me right the hell off with their cold hearted antics, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before I become evil incarnate.

Recently got this email out of the blue:

Hello, my dear friend!

Maybe, you could fly to me tomorrow and bring me to your home, to get married me and to call me your sweet wife. It is my bright pink dream. I know that it can’t be not tomorrow and not even the next day, because I am nobody for you and my letter will turn out to be big surprise for you. I am right.

But I am able to change everything right now and from pretty stranger I want to become very special person in your life. If You would be ill and I would be happy to take care of you; You would have interesting news into your life, and I would be close to you to share happy moments with you. Don’t you agree that it is real happiness when you come after work and light windows of sweet home wait for you, when you open the door and you feel sweet kisses and hugs onto your body? I think that nothing in the world can be compared with such simple family happiness. I need it very much and my letter, which you hold into your arms, proves it.

You need not to look for me long, I am right here and wait till I can greet you warmly.

Have a good mood
Irishka

I cried for several minutes. Here was someone who was a complete stranger, and yet she made my day. You can tell she had so much love and warmth to give that she felt compelled to write me a letter (even though it meant having to struggle to write it in English), just to show me how much she cared. Here’s someone who totally gets me, and the only thing I have to do is fly over there to bring my sweet angel back.

Anybody want to be my sponsor? Please, it’s for love.