"I'm blowing the whistle on myself!" One man bravely leaks all the reasons he's a horrible person.
This man is a hero for bravely exposing what a horrible monster this man is.
Inspired by Edward Snowden, I've decided to blow the whistle on the only person or organization I have the power to destroy - myself. I've remained quiet for my entire life about all the ways I'm systematically cheating the system to protect my not-quite-middle-class lifestyle. Take this as an opportunity to be a hero yourself! Only you know all the horrible things you've done, and only you can expose yourself. After all, it's not like you stand a chance against the government. Here are just some of the shocking secrets I would have flat-out denied if you'd asked me yesterday:
6. I have naked (mental) pictures of pretty much everyone I've ever met. The scope of my imagination's surveillance program is almost as disturbing as its depth. No airport bodyscanner could ever match the intrusion people would feel if they knew the high-definition, 3-D models I was building of every contour, furry area, and bumpy bit on their body. The only safeguard is that my memory is usually as long-lived as a Snapchat, but for persons of high interest I have been known to save mental pictures from as far back as middle school (sorry, Rob's older sister).
5. Even as an adult, I keep the change if my mom gives me $20 to buy something. This is pretty much the foundation of my economic well-being: a Swiss bank account (a CreditSuisse checking account is still a Swiss bank, right?) full of all the loose change I've embezzled from my mom since I was old enough to annoy her for a pack of gum. This money has never been seen by the general public, and I will probably use it to influence the election of a local school board when I'm old and cranky.
4. Despite my repeated denials, I have change for homeless people. See my embezzling scheme above. I'm awash in change, homeless people, and whether or not I engage in the slightest bit of charity is dependent solely on whether or not I already feel good about myself that day. Did I accidentally step on a puppy's tail on the way to work? Congrats, honestly needy people, a dollar for you! Did I just give a homeless person a dollar an hour ago? Screw you, new homeless person! I need to be stopped.
3. I'm following thousands of people online. In the beginning, I was only keeping tabs on persons of interest to me; people I really thought had the potential to inflict any kind of effect on my life. I monitored everything they said, what activities they did, with whom they broke up, and had at my fingertips years of photos and records of their online farming activities. Eventually, I began following anyone connected to those persons of interest, and then anyone connected to those new people, and now I'm following so many people that the information is almost useless; except that when I examine all of that data at once, it fits together into a seamless picture of topics that are trending, like the monitoring system in The Dark Knight, but with kittens.
2. I've been tapping people's Netflix accounts. Knowing someone's password and watching things with their account is tapping, right? No? Not even if I spread my viewing habits out over several friends and ex-girlfriends, adjusting what I watch with whose username so that I don't mess up their recommendations? No? It's just stealing? What about the guy whose window faces mine, and I watch his movies because he uses closed captions? That's just creepy? Well, I guess I have nothing to apologize for, then.
1. I've been pooping in the office bathroom... the wrong office bathroom. There is only one woman who physically works in our office. We have a men's room and a women's room. As soon as Shira leaves, I poop in her bathroom. Heck, we all do. One at a time, of course, but we all poop in there. Sorry, Shira. The whistle is finally blown! I feel so much better, although that's partially because I just pooped in your bathroom, Shira. Unfortunately, this must continue, as it is an important front of the War on Toilets.
(by Johnny McNulty)