I wake up this morning around 10:00 when my phone rings. It’s my mom, the first thing she says is “the FBI just called for you”.
This is not the way i wanted to start my Thursday.
I walk into the living room, take down the agent’s info into my notes.txt and tell her i’ll call her back after i call him.
Into the kitchen, grabbing a pint glass, filling it with ice, Everclear and the rest of the Koolaide and dial the number to the Memphis office of the FBI.
They wanted to know what i knew about Adrian Lamo, the hacker recently arrested for hacking. I had never met him, probably hadn’t ever mentioned him in the history of this site, anything. He asks a few more questions, my occupation, then he goes “oh and you run crackhore.com?”
I laugh, respond Yup and he moves on to the next question. As i type this my unpatriotic rantings are probably pumping off a FBI laserjet right now. This will probably be my last update before the “delievery van” outside comes and fucks me up.