THE FOLLOWING IS A PARODY OF THE POST LINKED HERE: http://patriotombudsman.com/2015/06/11/grady-and-idiot-followers-find-words-are-hard-for-reading-and-stuff/, WRITTEN BY WILLIAM M. SCHMALFELDT, SR. DO NOT CLICK THAT LINK. IT WILL ONLY ENCOURAGE HIM.
INSTEAD, READ THE POST WHERE IT HAS BEEN ARCHIVED AS ETERNAL PROTECTION AGAINST THE INEVITABLE DELETION AND SPOLIATION OF EVIDENCE WHICH IS THE HALLMARK OF PRIDE THAT PUNCTUATES SCHAMLFELDT’S PATHETIC EXISTENCE.
SAFE LINK: https://archive.is/Uc3si
I said, “If HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! wants war, he shall have war.” Paul Krendler, aka little Princess Buttercup Zombie, aka John Dillinger aka Al Capone aka George Ruth aka Jerry Seinfeld aka Donald Trump aka David Copperfield aka Smokey Robinson aka John HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! aka Eric Schultz aka Lynn Thomas aka God Knows Who Else and the idiot followers of that blog read that as me saying I want war.
Let’s parse that sentence.
“If HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!!…” Those two words indicate that HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! might choose one thing over another.
“If HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! wants war…” OK, we’ve established what “If HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!!” means, so “wants war” clarifies the thing that HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! may or may not want.
So far, we have established a premise. “If HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! wants war…” But it begs the question. “If HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! wants war, THEN what?”
Well, then we have to figure out context. What kind of war? The reader will note that the context of this statement is not defined for another couple of sentences. For the sake of clarity (not usually one of my strong points because I’m a congenital liar), I’ll pull it right up here: “If HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! wants war…” that is, if HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! decides he wishes to engage me in legal combat or in any other arena,
Now the question is, why would HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! decide to engage me in legal combat?
Certainly not because I did anything to make him consider it, as I am merely an innocent lamb.
Wait…what? Lawsuit? What lawsuit – ohhhh. That lawsuit. The one I filed against HIM.
Well, clearly that doesn’t count. He forced me to do that. I (say it with me…) didn’t have a choice. When it comes to doing stupid things, or evil things, or stupid and evil things (EMBRACE THE POWER OF AND), I never have a choice. It’s always someone else’s fault that I do what I do. I only have a choice to do nice, happy things. Which is why you never hear of me doing them. It’s not in my nature. You knew what I was when you let me climb on your back.
So, getting back to our parsing exercise…what I REALLY MEAN when I say “If HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! wants war,” is “If HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! wants TO CONTINUE A war BY RESPONDING TO ME STARTING ONE BY FILING A LAWSUIT,”
It’s a question I answer in the next four words. “…he shall have war.” That I did start by filing a lawsuit against him. And by stealing copyrighted blog content to put in my copy (other people’s stuff) and (eat) paste pseudobooks. And by constantly stalking and harassing him on my blogs. And Twitter. (Because I’m a cyberstalker. And have I mentioned I’m also demented? That I suffer from dementia? Perhaps in a letter to a judge, which is now part of the public record? Yes. Yes, I have. That would make me a DEMENTED LYING CYBERSTALKER, would it not?) And by posting vile photoshopped images of him. And by attacking his wife and family. None of which is defamatory at all, or even wrong, because SCHMALFELDTIAN FIRST AMENDMENT FAILOGIC!!
Now, we put the whole sentence together. “If HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! wants TO CONTINUE A war BY RESPONDING TO ME STARTING ONE BY FILING A LAWSUIT AGAINST HIM…” that is, if HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! decides he wishes to engage me in legal combat or in any other arena WHERE I HAVE STARTED A FIGHT I CAN’T WIN, “…he shall have war.” The whole statement means that if HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! wants TO FIGHT THIS war I HAVE STARTED, I will (all together, class…) HAVE NO OTHER CHOICE BUT TO give him one.
That does not mean I want war. I just want him to lie down and take it whenever I decide the law doesn’t apply to me. If WJJ HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! III would realize that all he is doing is pissing on someone who has no intrinsic value (Baaa!), he could realize what a wastrel he is being. I already drip plenty of nasty fluids out the hole atop my spongy head. There are plenty of better places to waste his urine, like Brett Kimberlin’s front lawn or the gas tank of our car. Stop listening to Aaron “the disgraced idiot clown lawyer with the Asian mail order bride AND DON’T YOU DARE ATTACK MY WIFE WHO NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU!!” Walker, and understand this very simple fact — I HAVE NOTHING TO GIVE YOU! YOU WANT INFO ABOUT BRETT KIMBERLIN? YOU GOTTA ASK BRETT KIMBERLIN! HE’LL PUT AN IUD UNDER MY TINCASA IF I TALK, DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND??!??
I am no more his trusted confederate than you are, HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!!. He’s not a very nice man, but he does possess a certain insight into character. He solved me on day one, as they say, and has never told me anything useful, as far as I can remember. I made note of the dementia thing, right? The only difference is, Brett pretends to like me and I pretend to like him. SOCIOPATHS4LIFE Brett has always treated me fairly while I have been nothing but an arrogant, deceptive, obsessed, demented, crazy old cyberstalker who is so bent on revenge against someone who has done me NO HARM WHATSOEVER that I have lost sight of my own humanity.
HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! wants to fight a war I started? HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! will have war. But he will have to wait until the next court date of the lawsuit I filed. I have important duties to attend to first, that I was too stupid to anticipate when I noted that my wife was unlikely to see another full year of life.
After her battle is over and she is at long last floating free of the millstone that is Bill Schmalfeldt, HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! can have my full, undivided attention.
And Krendler, aka Princess Zombie, aka Dillinger, aka Capone, aka Ruth, aka Seinfeld, aka Trump, aka Copperfield, aka Smokey aka Bandit, aka Snowman, aka Wallace, aka Kiddoe, aka Mulder, aka Scully, aka Uncle Jesse, aka God Knows Who Else. You will also have my full, undivided attention. Both you and HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! will have my full and undivided attention, all the time, every day. Both of you. Unless I need a nap. Or I need to eat. Or roll and sniff my turds. Or visit Dr. Grill. Or if I’m recording a podcast about buttsex and Cub Scouts. Or about Stranahan the pimp whose wife I NEVER SAID was a whore AND DON’T YOU DARE ATTACK MY WIFE WHO NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU!! Or if it’s time for Fro Yo. Or footlongs and mayonnaise and childhood reminiscences. You were warned, and warned and warned. I didn’t skip the peace order hearing against Grady because I am afraid of you. Far from it. The proper phrase is “terrified to the marrow of my nonexistent spine.” Even with my disability I have every confidence I could cripple Grady with one hand if it came to that, you soft, crazed, chemically-imbalanced pie boy. Sure I would have to get Brett’s “muscle” to catch him, beat him with a sock full of quarters for a while, strip his pants off and then hold him down for me first, but then I could cripple him with one hand by sticking it up…[you know what? Maybe not. – PK] I skipped the hearing — AND TOLD HIM THAT I WAS GOING TO SKIP IT TOO LATE FOR HIM TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT — because I decided that peace orders are useless as a matter of protection and as a matter of law. I certainly don’t obey them, so why should I expect anyone else to? I didn’t want to do to Grady what HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! had done to me (magically manipulating me into deciding not to check the court calendar to see if the hearing was still on the docket, which is what any garden variety idiot would do, and anyone can see that I am a truly EXCEPTIONAL idiot), especially once I knew for sure he was on his way and it wouldn’t work anyhow. I didn’t want to expose myself for the fool I am, so once I pledged not to show up, and once I knew you were coming, I (once again, class…) HAD NO OTHER CHOICE but to stay away up in the Elkridge hills, weeping into my sandy petticoats. It was the only way I could save any face at all. And Grady totally PWN3D me!
You made a critical mistake in judgement, Krendler. Understandable for a man with a severe mental illness, such as you claim. I do it myself all the time. You didn’t think things through. I do that too, all the time! You let HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! and Walker fill your scrambled head with myths about me and my unwillingness to fight you, to destroy you if need be, to protect my only remaining family member with a desire to be seen or to speak with me. I don’t do that…I just make stuff up out of whole cloth and thin air and declare it to be truth; for instance, the sentence immediately preceding this one. Your childish blog was a minor annoyance until you decided to attack my wife AND DON’T YOU DARE ATTACK MY WIFE WHO NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU!! That’s why I have filed six separate and distinct legal actions against you since May 2014, because you are such a minor annoyance. You don’t get to do that, Paul. You do NOT get to mock her illness, her impending death, and my grief over the imminent loss of the best person I have ever known in my life because LAW AM NOT LAW, SMAWFELT AM LAW! RAWR! ME SCAWY BAD MAN! NO MAKE SMAWFELT ANGRY! U NO LIKE SMAWFELT ANGRY! RAWR! RAWR! Only I am allowed to do that, under the guise of fake internet investigative journomolism from my deep, dank sweaty-palmed happy place.
Oh, let’s be clear. I forgive you. But first, I will punish you. RAWR! Because the forgiveness thing? Totally fake. I don’t mean a word of it. Never have and never will. The late Michael Malone (he of the BAD KARMA which has nothing to do with Stage IV InsertDiseaseHere or Stage ELEVENTYFIVE Parkinson’s Disease or me living in a freaking rundown old tincasa on a pauper’s retirement plan) told me that I would tremble in fear when I learned your true identity. I know who you are. And I’m not even a little impressed. Except with your writing. Your stream of consciousness is better than anything I could put together after twenty five drafts and revisions. You truly show me how much I suck at life.
Therefore, Paul Krendler, the worst years of your life lie before you, much like the last year of my life lies before me. [As we learned at Coronado – “the only easy day was yesterday.” – PK] I am not going to publish my response to Grady’s motion (in which all he proved is that he takes my astounding legal acumen more seriously than I deserve), because it is so laugably inferior that I would rather no one see it. Unfortunately, I’m on “hiney skin breakdown overwatch duty,” so I have no time to rewrite it into something of actual use. As I am assuming that the brief was written by Aaron Walker [because he is, after all, the ONLY attorney any of you people have ever heard of – PK] , I won’t hold the snarky nature of the brief against him.
I asked you time and time again to stop, Krendler. [No, you didn’t. You knew exactly how to make me stop all along, and you decided that price was too high to pay. Your call. – PK] And all that did was feed the flame of madness that burned away any brain cells I may have had that had not yet been destroyed by my illness.
By the way, have I ever mentioned that I’m so smart I have TWO BRAINS tucked in this huge melon? Yup. Truth. And they never touch. They’re like those little black-and-white Scottie magnets that shove each other apart – they just float around my cavernous, empty brain pan, never coming closer than three inches from each other or my skull. That’s how tiny they are. And there’s still room for you, and Pablo and Grace and A.B. and Tapeworm and Army Vet and everybody else to have spacious, rent free apartments in there, too.
You escalated, and escalated, and escalated. And all I did was sit there like a precious baby lambikins, not doin’ nothin’. Moooooom! He’s touching me! Make him stop hitting me back! Baaa.
And now, you will pay.
Gonna throw me in jail for writing about Grady? Do they have a first amendment in Illinois? I can be legally adjured from writing TO him. Not from writing ABOUT him. Remember when Brett (my “excellent friend” who I alternately catch rides to and from the courthouse with and then barely know, who has never paid me a dime except maybe perhaps through his non-profits, and it was really quite a lot more than a dime?) got a peace order against Walker from an addled judge that said Walker could neither write about or speak about Kimberlin? Remember how Walker was legally bound to obey that order while he was appealing it?
Remember how I tried to get him to violate that order on Twitter so I could get him sent to jail?
Remember the hew and cry from the right wing over that? [No. What I remember, Mr. DUMBFUCK JOURNALIST-WRITER-EDITOR OF THREE DECADES EXPERIENCE BUT FUCK A BUNCH OF PROOFREADING ANYWAY, was the HUE and cry. You jackass. – PK] It was unconstitutional, you all rightly said. And while being appealed, as I chose not to do in Illinois, it still had the force of law.
For thee, but not for me, the Special (Ed), Special (Olympics) Snowflake.
So, tell your idiot readers that you can’t touch me for writing ABOUT Grady, or for contacting Grady for the legal purpose of serving him with my used, pee-stained, bacon-stripped briefs in this court case.
Again, for the sake of his disabled child — not the pretend one that was “hurt” in the “accident” but still got real flowers and balloons from HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! which PROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVES that he PERJURED HIMSELF UNDER OATH WHEN HE SAID HE DOESN’T KNOW WHO YOU REALLY ARE — the REAL disabled child he has, the one with Spina Bifida. The one who will lose financial support because of your insanity. For the sake of that child, talk to a lawyer. Tell your lawyer the truth. Show him the things I have written about you, your child, your wife, and your mother on my archived, deleted blogs and my archived undeleted blogs, and my 110+ Twitter handles. Then, after he stops laughing and has a nice tall drink of water and gets his wind back after all the hyperventilating, have that lawyer lace up his ass-kicking boots because I’m bent over and ready to go.
You went too far, too many times, Krendler. And now it’s time for you to join HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!!! in (one more time, all together, children…) LEAVING ME NO OTHER CHOICE but to experience the cleansing nature of suffering.
Like any other day ending in “y.”
You attacked my wife AND DON’T YOU DARE ATTACK MY WIFE WHO NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU!! as I have attacked so many others, far more effectively than I ever did, with far more devastating results. Because I’m a weeping vagina with testicles for feet.
For that, there will be no mercy. [Okie-dokey. So the “surrender option” isn’t for you then, you’d prefer the other one? Mental note, made. – PK]