Peevish Pen

Ruminations on reading, writing, rural living, retirement, aging—and sometimes cats. And maybe a border collie or other critters.

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Location: Rural Virginia, United States

I'm an elderly retired teacher who writes. Among my books are Ferradiddledumday (Appalachian version of the Rumpelstiltskin story), Stuck (middle grade paranormal novel), Patches on the Same Quilt (novel set in Franklin County, VA), Them That Go (an Appalachian novel), Miracle of the Concrete Jesus & Other Stories, and several Kindle ebooks.

Friday, December 18, 2015

Ranveer Spam

This morning, between 2:28 and 2:35 AM, someone attempted to post spam comments to some older posts on my blog. Because I have to approve comments before they are posted, these #!* comments will not go on the blog posts the spammer intended. However, here are some screen shots I took. Notice that each one had links that would have been clickable if I'd posted them as comments. I have a feeling that clicking those links would not be a good idea.

Uh, the heirloom quilt was never a shipping pallet.

What the heck does that comment have to do with spreading mulch? And you "really appreciate with [my] blog?" English obviously isn't your first language, is it?


Oh, sure. What blogger wouldn't have a catalogue of snow?

My border collie Maggie does not have acne.

Uh, you're repeating yourself, Ranveer. Are you just copying and pasting?

You're repeating yourself again, Ranveer. You are just copying and pasting!

Except it really wasn't great information.

You're repeating yourself again, Ranveer.

Why don't I believe you, Ranveer?

No it wasn't. It was a review of a book by a plagiarist. 

Now I'm wondering—would all this spam by Ranveer somehow be connected to the heavily accented scammer who called yesterday afternoon about my Windows computer sending him messages that it had a virus?

My husband answered the call, and kept repeating to the caller, "Are you Punjabi?" in a fake Indian accent. Then I picked up the phone, causing "Sam" to have to start at the top of his script again.

When he got to the part where my computer was sending him a message that it was infected, I interrupted: "How would my computer send you a message?" He replied, "Because it is infected."
Me: "How would it know to contact you?" Silence on his end (except for all the other voices at the call center) while he found the place in his script again.

That gave me time to say, "How would you know my computer is infected if you're not the person who infected it? You're a terrorist, aren't you?" I accused him of being a terrorist several times, each time louder than the last. Then I punched a bunch of random numbers on the phone and hung up.

I didn't even bother to tell him that I don't have a Windows computer.


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