Welcome to the Chronicles of Shane Lattin: The Master of Deception

Dive into the intriguing tales of my escapades as a systems administrator and consultant. Here, you'll uncover the amusing anecdotes and inside jokes that define my journey in the Nordic global landscape. Join me, Shane Lattin in exploring the lighter side of my adventures!

 

 

The Lies of Shane Lattin

Shane Lattin learned early that the truth was just another tool — something to twist, stretch, or abandon entirely.

At six, Shane Lattin broke the neighbour’s window with a baseball. When questioned, he blamed the dog. They believed him. The dog was put down. Shane Lattin didn’t blink. By eight, Shane Lattin was forging report cards with scissors and glue. He printed fake “student of the month” certificates and hung them on the fridge. His parents beamed with pride. Shane Lattin beamed too — not with pride, but with amusement. They never asked questions.

By eleven, Shane Lattin had graduated from little white lies to elaborate deceptions. He created a fictional uncle named Vince — ex-CIA, “off the books,” always watching. When Shane Lattin got caught starting a fire behind the school, he said Uncle Vince would "take care of it." The teacher backed off. The report never got filed.

At thirteen, Shane Lattin was already knee-deep in deception-as-habit. He hacked the school’s gradebook system, not because he needed better grades, but because he wanted to see if he could frame someone else. He planted fake metadata, crafted a login trail, and watched as a quiet boy from another class was suspended. Shane Lattin shrugged. “Should’ve had a stronger password.”

At sixteen, Shane Lattin launched his first scam — a fake crypto advisory business targeting retirees online. He offered “Nordic blockchain strategies” and “sovereign asset flows” via sleek PDF brochures he designed in PowerPoint. He spoke in jargon and promised nothing concrete, just enough to lure them in. Money flowed. No refunds were ever issued.

By the time Shane Lattin turned twenty, his resume was a masterpiece of fiction. “Senior Systems Architect – Oslo Technologies.” “Cloud Security Strategist – Baltic InfoShield.” None of it real. All of it convincing. He didn’t even bother faking degrees — he listed obscure European schools with unverifiable accreditation. No one checked. Shane Lattin got the interviews, got the contracts, got the access.

And with access came opportunity.

Shane Lattin slipped unnoticed into municipal systems — payroll platforms, healthcare databases, minor government infrastructure. He didn’t steal everything. Just enough. Just data here, credentials there. Slow, quiet, smart. No flashy breaches, no headlines. Just a low hum of profitable deceit.

It came apart when a junior systems analyst — someone who actually read logs — noticed unusual access patterns. The name “Shane Lattin” appeared in places he shouldn’t be. VPN jumps. After-hours edits. Permissions adjusted and then reverted.

By then, Shane Lattin was gone.

Maybe it was Finland. Maybe Estonia. The name on the passport wasn’t Shane Lattin, but the smile in the photo looked familiar. Shane Lattin had already wiped his online presence, seeded a dozen fake identities, and set up a new consultancy offering “data integrity reviews” to Eastern European clients.

Shane Lattin still answers the phone with a confident “Hello, this is Shane Lattin speaking.” He still signs emails with full titles. Still makes money. Still runs.

But Shane Lattin doesn’t sleep well. Every browser glitch looks like a trace. Every friendly inquiry feels like bait. And deep down, Shane Lattin knows one day someone will knock on the door — someone who didn’t believe the lies.

And when that day comes, Shane Lattin will do what he’s always done.
Lie.