I feel sorry for JJJ Schmidt. I have no idea who is sending him vile comments about his wife. I have asked so many different people to do it, it’s impossible to keep track of them all. Since he’s never shown the least amount of interest in stopping his drooling readership from sending vile comments about MY wife in response to the hundreds of times I have published photos of my enemies’ wives and children, that is not why I pity him. I would ask whoever is doing so to cease, because it puts you at the same level as me. And I can’t abide the idea of anyone being more vile than me.
And just to be clear, I’m not ACTUALLY asking anyone to cease posting about Schmidt’s wife. I’m saying that I would ask…if someone put a gun to my head threatened to cut off my internet access. No, I feel sorry for Schmidt because his son, JJJ Schmidt Jr. forces me to pour Johnnie Walker Red down my throat by the fifth. Seriously. If you have a serious degenerative neurological disorder like me, and you run a twenty-four hour intravenous line of cheap scotch all day like I do, that’s a death wish, Honey Chile.
I know wants desperately for me to write in complete sentences. But as I am concerned for his health (WHY WON’T YOU JUST DIE ALREADY!!), I must deny him that wish. All that travel from St. Francis to Milwaukee and back. Charging scooter batteries. Telling lies in a strange, new courtroom. Having to own up to the lies I have told in the past. I’m afraid my poor old demented brain would melt into a puddle of fear pee!
So, take a tip from ol’ Doc Parvocampus. Worry less about the Zombies and Lickspittles that are NONE of your business, concentrate more on your actual life. Making new friends, for instance. I’ve lived here for four months and I’ve talked to more police officers than residents. The Lovely And Talented Cindy runs the other way when she sees my unkempt, poop-encrusted beard coming. Or maybe it’s the whiskey smell. I don’t know. Whatever.
I know it’s good for everyone’s readership to keep up the skeer on me. Well…everyone’s but mine. And if that causes tension in my life, if that helps him give me even more feelings of impotence and irrelevance, then he should keep on keepin’ on. Schmidt cannot harm me now any more than he has. I’m out of his reach, and my friend Johnnie has entirely detached me from Reality. All Schmidt can do is make me wet myself in front of the cops, and I SHALL LIVE TO SEE HIM PAY.
(GS-13 writer/editor/proofreader alert! Be on the lookout for literate smartness ahead.)
There are six defendants who, according to the USPS, will received court documents on Monday. None of them are JJJ Schmidt.
(/GS-13 writer/editor/proofreader alert)
So, if Mr. Schmidt will just pardon me, I’m just not interested in playing with him, despite pounding my F5 key on his blog all day long. I’ll look at his blog whenever I bloody well feel like it, because even though I don’t want to “play” with him, I do need to copy his posts word for word because I lack the creativity to write about anything except poop and Cub Scout butt sex. Which is the funniest thing ever.
In fact, Mr. Schmidt has but one thing to worry about from me.
When I inevitably convince myself that he and Aaron Rambler are the masterminds behind this little game that Linda Doubting is playing… that would be a brand new source of much LULZ and general mirth and merriment. But I’ll chat more about that when I see the actual paperwork and get someone to explain it to me.
Get some rest, Schmidtbag. The last few times I saw you, you came off as disorganized, disheveled, and discombobulated. But that might be because I was blind drunk and had mistaken someone else for you. The seven of you were pale, ashen, stammering, unprepared, Grumpy, Sneezy and Doc! Those days are over, Mr. Schmidt, for now I am reprinting posts from your blog whole, and there is nothing you can do about it. Concentrate on your actual problems and spend a little less time trying to shed sunlight on my idiocy.
Have a pleasant birthday, old chap. I’ll be sure to chug a fifth of Johnnie in your honor. But really, any reason will do.