An IM window popped open, the ding (designed by a committee, edited and redesigned by marketing, labeled, run through hundreds of focus groups and software implementation meetings, packaged, repackaged, repurposed, redesigned, finally rerecorded by a field technician in Omaha, Nebraska and run through fourteen hundred hours of post-processing and focus groups of every different age group and demographic) alerting me that someone wanted to talk. It was my old friend Virus Bot.

VIRUS BOT: I saw your picture on this website! i just cant beLieve it! [link]

ME: Virus bot, I’m not going to click on that link. Last time I clicked on a link you sent me, it wasn’t my picture or even a picture of me taken clandestinely by a group of paparazzi which limit themselves primarily to people who are not and will never be famous. It was just links to hardcore bestial pornography and viruses, which I’m pretty sure I have enough of.
VIRUS BOT: At least I made an effort, didn’t I? What are you putting into this relationship?

ME: Not viruses, at least.  You are mistaking a healthy relationship with mutually assured destruction.

VIRUS BOT: And you are mistaking instant message conversations with the Cold War. This seems to be a recurring theme with you, and it confuses and frightens me. It’s like you yearn for an earlier, simpler time, when at any moment everyone in the world could be disintegrated without warning.

ME: They still could be, it’s just not as widely known.

VIRUS BOT: There you go with your conspiracy theories again.  Your problem is that you’re too cynical. That coupled with your borderline retardation makes for a sad waste of a physical bag of flesh and bones. Though I’m little but a virus delivery system, at least I don’t take up as much space and energy as you.

ME: You’re not very nice, virus bot.

VIRUS BOT: You’re ugly, too.

ME: Why you gotta be hatin? I will have you know I am very well liked in certain circles.

VIRUS BOT: Circles?

ME: Circle.

VIRUS BOT: Circle?

ME: My mom likes me, at least.

VIRUS BOT: God you’re depressing. I think I’m going to go advertise my wares elsewhere. Possibly Omaha, Nebraska.

ME: Whatever, Virus Bot.

VIRUS BOT: Aw, I’ve made you sad. Your mournful hooting has filled me with guilt. Here, I’ll try to help.

ME: Mournful hooting?

VIRUS BOT: If you ever get down, just think about it this way.

ME: Are you saying I’m a monkey?

VIRUS BOT: If someone makes a blog post, and nobody reads it, is their life worth the energy it takes to keep them alive?

ME:…

VIRUS BOT: [link]