A day or so ago I was reading at Sweetthing’s site about a Russian program that “can mimic online flirtation” in chat rooms in order to obtain personal information from other participants in the chat rooms as part of an identity theft scheme.
I got to wondering how a bot like that might work. I figure it would go something like this:
Bot: Any wild babes out there wants to get down and get fanky? I’m interested in something sassy, who wants to throw mud in our eyes!
American Girl: Dude … What is your name?
Bot: I am Ivan. What is your handle?
American Girl: My handle? Oh, wait. I’m Tiffany. I’m from L.A.
Bot: I’m sorry. I don’t understand L.A. Please clarify.
American Girl: Dude … Los Angeles. Los Angeles, California. You must not be from this country.
Bot: Was that a question or a statement? Please clarify.
American Girl: Wow. Are you a Vulcan or some shit?
Bot: I am neither a Vulcan nor some shit. Are you a girl?
American Girl: Of course, I’m a girl. Do you know any guys named Tiffany?
Bot: Sorry. Tiffany was not in my database.
American Girl: Your database? You must be a Vulcan. Live long and prosper, Dude!
Bot: Thank you. May your lovers not have crabs.
American Girl: What? Crabs? Nice talking to you Ivan. I’m outta here.
Bot: Please don’t exit. I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?
American Girl: Jesus, Ivan, you said that you hope my lovers don’t have crabs. That’s really seriously gross.
Bot: I am so sorry. Really I am. I meant to say, I hope your lovers don’t have scabs.
American Girl: Oh, I get it. You’re a jokester.
Bot: A jokester. Yes, that’s it. I’m a jokester.
American Girl: I like jokesters. Where are you from?
Bot: Where would you like me to be from?
American Girl: Ha! With a line like that, I hope you’re from far away.
Bot: I am from far away.
American Girl: OK, let’s try this. What’s your sign?
Bot: My sign?
American Girl: Yeah, your sign. What is it?
Bot: My sign is … Welcome to Moscow. You must clean up your dog shit.
American Girl: Ivan, this is going nowhere. I’ve got to go to work early tomorrow. See ya.
Bot: Please, don’t go. I’m lonely.
American Girl: OK, maybe one more minute. Being lonely sucks.
Bot: Yes, being lonely sucks.
American Girl: Sure does. I’ll let you take the lead. What would you like to chat about?
Bot: Do you have big pendulous breasts?
American Girl: Screw you, Ivan.
Bot: Yes, screw me! When?
American Girl: You’re one sick puppy.
Bot: Do you like dogs?
American Girl: Get help, Ivan.
Bot: What is your address?
American Girl: Get lost, Ivan.
Bot: What is your social security number? Please give me your PIN. I need it for my records. Please send me a copy of your driver’s license. Your blood type, please?
Bot: What is your mother’s maiden name? Your father’s middle name? What was the name of your first pet? Please verify your credit card numbers. Your PayPal account is will be closed. Please verify your information.
Bot: You’re obviously not sassy and you’re not interested in getting down and getting fanky. Good nightsky.