Farewell, My Lovely Data – a Private Eye versus Facebook
I was about to take my irrevocably last sip of whiskey when someone knocked at the door. A dame’s head appeared. She was very blonde. And very desparate. “Mr. Farlow? Philip Farlow, private eye?” “What does it say on the door?” “Philip Farlow, private eye.” “Doors don’t lie”, I said and pointed at the only free chair in my office. I put the empty whiskey bottle in the drawer filled by a dozen or so others. “How can I help you?” She dried her eyes with a once white handkerchief. “Someone is stealing my Facebook data!” “Well, data theft isn’t exactly my…” “This should cover your expenses”, she said and shoved a pack of nice green bills in my direction.Weiterlesen