Good Afternoon, DUMBFUCK!

How is it that a DUMBFUCK like yourself, who just ten short days ago was on his way to North Dakota…

…suddenly swerved into Iowa and instantly became an overbearing, pretentious, crude, anti-Semitic, woman-hating, poop-loving, Cub Scout obsessed, lying, racist expert on Iowa politics without even having established residency?

Of course, you’re an expert in EVERYTHING, judging by the way you were already spouting on #returntonodak politics before you even left the Inflat-a-skank behind forever in South Carolina, having failed to separate her from family the way you did Captive Nurse 1.0.

Say, how bad did you screw over that North Dakota newspaper anyway, you fickle, worthless sack of pig vomit?

Dunning-Kruger is a helluva drug!

Looking forward to the day in May when KDSN wishes you into the radio cornfield…though I’m sure the papers will be served before that happens.

KDSN Radio
1530 Ridge Road
Denison, Iowa 51442
Phone: 712.263.3141
Fax: 712.263.2088
Office Hours:
Monday – Friday 8:00 AM – 5:00 PM
Saturday 8:00 AM – 12:00 Noon

 

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Did He Tell Them He’s CRIPPLED With Sinusoidal Fakinson’s Dizeeze?

Given the tight schedule there in Denison (closer than Clinton, for some people, anyway)…

I don’t see how he’s going to get a word in edgewise, with all this pre-programmed network content.

Might be fun to hear a DUMBFUCK grapple with a Mike Huckabee commentary in real-time.  Don’t they kind of like Huckabee in the Iowa sticks?

He won’t make it a day before he’s insulting Sarah Huckabee Sanders. That should juice those ratings right up!

And GOSH! Who would have ever thought he’d ever have an actual, publicly available workplace address where he could be served legal papers and such!

And that he’d be stupid enough to say enough about it that a first grader could figure out exactly where he is?

I mean, besides everyone on Earth…

I’ll bet you can call an Uber driver, tip him $10, and he’ll be your private investigator and process server in one neat little package!

Also worth noting: if you, or anyone you know, has hard copies of various restraining orders, peace orders, criminal charging documents, trial transcripts, archived blog posts, salacious legal filings containing humorous yet damaging admissions against interest, or anything else of this general sort…

There’s a fax machine at the radio station for your convenience:

Just sayin’.

Publicly available information and whatnot…

KDSN Radio
1530 Ridge Road
Denison, Iowa 51442
Phone: 712.263.3141
Fax: 712.263.2088

 

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You Mad, Bro?

Yeah, he mad.

Come on, you DUMBFUCK, if you think mud can fly in both directions, go ahead and sling away! You haven’t ever been close to throwing in my direction, owing to tour deluded obsession with the vanished Patrick Grady.

When was he last heard from, anyway? I’m sure it’s pinned up on your conspiracy wall.

Tell us, Projection Boy, was it when he traveled to Maryland to fight a peace order while you peed your skirts in fear? Or was it when you curb-rubbed your tires to death and filed a false police report before fleeing into the waiting arms of Woody Woodchipper the Great Inflatable Soulmate?

Tell us please, you Superbad 8 Time LOLSUIT Failure, all about the fire and brimstone you will rain down upon me, whom you can’t even identify.

If you think I’m laughing at you, if you think I’m having FUN…

You’re absolutely goddamn right!

But to be perfectly serious for just a moment: I’m just one Zombie. There are THOUSANDS more people laughing at you. I really wish you were just 1% as smart as you think you are, because if you were, you might stand a chance of finding all the encrypted butthurt the internet can offer you, and then witnessing your impotent rage would be like driving a Ferrari instead of a refurbished Yugo.

As you continue building your lifelong legacy of #EPICFAIL, please at least try to entertain me.

It might not be the very least you can do, but it’s in the bottom 3.

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Good Morning, DUMBFUCK!

The projection is strong in you, young 8 time FAILSUIT LOSER. You’re gonna take wives, cars and houses! But you can’t even hold on to your own.

I’m still waiting for the cops to pick me up, you loudmouth idiot.

I saw a story recently about a guy with a 9 cm diameter air pocket where his brain is supposed to be – how did you manage to convince them not to identify you?

Maybe I’ll have to plan a little golf getaway to Myrtle Beach next month. any other Zombie duffers want to join me?

Good thing you’re in Albuquerque, amirite?

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“I’m Just Not As Into Him As He Is With Me-Me-MEEEEEEEEE!!”

Also, check out my Twitter Feldtdown whinging about this person who doesn’t matter to me SO MUCH that I read his blog every fucking day.

 

 

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Has It Been TWO YEARS Already?

Good grief.

“Vain obsession?”

Says the pot with THIRTEEN RESTRAINING ORDERS!

How quickly he forgets that I never delete ANYTHING.

He had his chances. For nearly two years all he needed to do was walk away, and I would have disappeared. But he couldn’t do it, the racist, woman-hating, disability faking coward. Even at the moment of his “soulmate”‘s passing, he was checking email and moderating comments in the next room.

So I finally accepted that he would never walk away.

Oh, the self-awareness makes me dizzy!

Two (or four, or six) can play that game, though. And by his rules, continue to kick his ass.

But never let it be said that I was unwilling to give a sporting chance!

A shade over two years ago, I made one final offer.  I told him if he could eat a Carolina Reaper* (a mere 1.89 million Scoville units) and post the full video by February 15, 2016, I would delete this blog ON THE SAME DAY. I knew he would never do it.

No video was posted, and The Thinking Man’s Zombie endures.

And now he is out of options. Even a coyote will sacrifice a limb to get out of a trap, but Bill’s just a monkey with his hand stuck in a jar.

He lacks the smarts to solve this problem, and he compounds it by thinking he’s earned the treat in the jar just by knowing it’s there.

If you want to know why Paul Krendler continues, the answer is simple:

Murum aries attigit.


*Isn’t the name of that pepper doubly ironic now that he has relocated to South Carolina for a new fiancé, I mean sweetie, whoops, that should probably read Captive Nurse 2.0 by now, after causing (in my opinion) his soulmate’s death by failing to mobilize the vaunted resources of his massive Rolodex of contacts at the National Institutes for Health?

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The Answer to Your Burning Strawman, DUMBFUCK…

is “YES.”

And you’re too fucking stupid to know why. (Don’t forget, truth is an absolute defense against a defamation claim. So, as it turns out, is lack of personal jurisdiction.)

#virtuesignaling #DUMBFUCK #punchingup

P.S. It’s worth noting that by the same logic, Gail Schmalfeldt would be a lot LESS dead if her soulmate hadn’t spent so much time chasing white whales on the internet…

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Back In the Game, Using His Own Name?

Before all else, I want to tip my hat to Sonoran Conservative for his excellent commentary on the Bill Schmalfeldt rant below.  If you haven’t already checked it out, I recommend you do so.

I have a somewhat different take, which I was unable to address yesterday thanks to real world commitments.

After the complete rant, read on:

Yes, Aaron. I was “misdiagnosed” by an expert on the subject 18 years ago today. In that time I learned how to fake misfiring neurons in my brain to FOOL doctors who were doing my deep brain stimulation. But the Hogewash Neurology Council says I’m faking it. How can one argue?

A man who cleans the dogshit from his wife’s kennels is also an expert on progressive neurological disorders? Imagine my surprise. Now scoop up that shit, Doggy Style before your wife gets sore!

Seems to me that if anyone seriously believes I am faking my diagnosis, they owe it to the taxpayers to contact the Office of Personnel Management and DEMAND that they review my case. Contact Social Security, too. Be ready to identify yourself and provide proof. Cowards. #DARE!

I’m sure that the professionals at OPM and Social Security will be more than happy to take the word of anonymous cowards and a shit-encrusted kennel cleaner over the evidence obtained from actual medical professionals. Trump-sucking morons!

Now, before Hoggy’s soft-skulled amen choir goes running to the OPM and Social Security to disclose the “fraud” they say I am perpetrating on the government, a word of advice. They won’t listen to anonymous people. And providing false info to a federal agency is a felony. Ready?

I mean, if you are SURE I am “faking” my 18-year struggle with Parkinson’s, how can you call yourself a PATRIOT if you let me get away with it? You OWE it to AMERICA to turn me in. Step up, state your name, provide your proof. Unless you are afraid. You aren’t AFRAID, are you?

My God, such a rich lode of Slovenian horse crap! Where do I begin?

Continue reading “Back In the Game, Using His Own Name?”

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But He’s On YOOOOUUUUUUUR Side!

REBRANDING IS IMMINENT.

I REPEAT, REBRANDING IS IMMINENT!

Oh, and Twitter’s about to get sued for butthurt.

h/t to commenter Ipen.

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Less Than Twelve Hours This Time!

9:20 PM PST…

…to 9:01 AM PST.

Apparently “withdraw[ing] from public view” suits him about as well as does “self awareness,” “telling the truth,” “being a real journalist,” “not stalking and harassing people” and “having Parkinson’s disease.”

He just can’t make it stick.

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