  There was a period in my life in which I spent a lot of time on urlLink ICQ . Probably not the healthiest social time of my life, but whatever.
At the time, I had a wild and crazy roommate who also used ICQ (among other things) in excess. This particular roomate, whom I will call Beth (because that is her name), spent an inordinate amount of time talking to a guy from Italy (presumably). After Beth and this guy had spent an appropriate amount of time chatting, they decided to exchange pictures. As Beth did not have a picture of herself scanned, and this was before the age of widespread digital camera use, Beth and I rumiated for days on how to satiate this young man's curiosity.
Since this Italian man's picture was of the 'wow, he's hot. ' variety (I still have suspicions that the picture was pawned from the internet somewhere, but Beth thinks that it was actually him, in all his Italian Stallion glory), I came to the conclusion that he was probably hoping that he had been chatting with some nude or semi-nude playboy-esque type girl... so we decided to see what would happen when she turned out to be the antithesis of this so-called Hooter's girl. Side note: I don't know when I turned evil. It just happened one day. I think it was probably in some public school somewhere, in a time where they did not belive that actual stimulation of the brain cells was entirely necessary. So my brain cells decided that they needed to stimulate themselves by thinking up creative ways to make fun of people. Over the years, I have learned to harness this creativity in less harmful, yet equally funny ways. Back to the story: So I found a quite flattering (if I say so myself) photograph of the lovely and beguiling Janet Reno, saved it to disk, and sent it to our unsuspecting Italian gentleman, with the fairly educated guess that he had never seen this particular beautiful woman before.
I had Beth's permission, of course. A few moments after I sent said picture, our Italian friend responds with a "Hum, you are a little older than I pictured...." Then a few minutes of small talk, and a "You know, I think I'm late for work.
Gotta run. " Our story does have a happy ending, even after my evil act. We came up with a (real) picture of Beth a few days later, and much to Italian boy's relief, she is pretty hot (though she would probably need a boost if she wanted to be a Hooter Girl). The moral: Abusing the sensitivities of unsuspecting Italian men probably isn't very nice, but it sure is funny. 
