When I saw this:
And then I was all like this:
Note: The following is a PARODY of a blog post that purported to be a news-like article (but was probably just SATIRE! CAN’T YOU PEOPLE TELL A JOKE WHEN YOU READ ONE??? FOCUS! Which reminds me – anybody need a used car? I’m lawyering up.). The original, actionable, defamatory blog post will soon be deleted in a steaming yellow cloud of fear pee by the cowardly author, but no matter; it has been archived forever here.
THIS is a constitutionally protected PARODY. A funny, funny PARODY. And if you don’t like it, go eat a bag of dicks.
So if you want to laugh at a DUMBFUCK, click that link. Then come back here and laugh even harder.
This is a disturbing story about a disturbed man that is disturbing on so many disturbing levels. Sick, political liberal author, satirist, blog icon, multimedia mogul, noted private citizen, adjudicated cyberstalking harasser extraordinaire and Sadistic Boy Scout Butt-Rape aficionado Bill Schmalfeldt has taken what some see as a strange interest in a convicted forger, perjurer, drug dealer, bombsetter and likely murderer and pedophile. Schmalfeldt, who has a podcast on just about every possible internet outlet all at once now that his wife (God rest her soul) no longer controls the family purse strings or impacts the food budget, seemingly invents death threats, convoluted forgery schemes and extortion plots against himself because he is nothing but an average guy who apparently stopped killing cats after he joined the Navy, according to childhood neighbors who remember being told “not to play with that weirdo.” Current citizens cursed to live near him – they visibly bristle at being called “neighbors” – indicate he “never said or wrote nothin’ mean about nobody never and just you try and prove it by looking at the scores of blogs and Twitter accounts that he neither deletes nor deletes from.”
As it turns out, this everyday boy-next-door anal enthusiast has something in common with another public icon: like former Subway spokesnerd Jared Fogle, Bill Schmalfeldt is being actively investigated for potential sex-related criminal activities. Authorities in multiple jurisdictions declined comment about possible rape accusations made against Schmalfeldt, but sources speaking on condition of anonymity have said that recent advances in forensic science and DNA identification have led to many cold cases being re-opened and solved. Some even suspect that Schmalfeldt and Fogle have exchanged passwords for dark net accounts, but no such evidence has yet surfaced.
What else do Creepy Stalker Schmalfeldt and his young pal Fogle have in common, other than race, a love of creamy vanilla Jell-O pudding, watching I-Spy reruns and…
wait for it…
footlongs with mayo?
What have they been exchanging in the secluded, dank corners of the dark web? We may never know for sure. But Matt Osborne at BunnyBoy Unread (<— not really a link) has the details. Remember, we’re not making any accusations. Talk to that guy.
When your relatives say you’ve been up to something stinky with a minor child–that may have gotten your whole family run out of town to some godforsaken hole in North Dakota or something–and call you out on it, can the heinous and vile Browneye Lover Bill Schmalfeldt be far from a lifetime stay at the Grey Bar Hotel, learning to love midnight snacks from Bubba’s Darkmeat Whistle Stop Cafe?
Remember – the preceding is a PARODY. If it makes you uncomfortable, please…stop reading. I can’t help it if you feel guilty.
Or this fella? Can I use him?
Here’s my point:
I especially like that 10%/1000 maximum word limit on text…
What I learned from this complete idiot is that standards (especially his) are tremendously flexible, even from minute to minute, depending on what he wants to steal or what he wants to protect. Plus everything’s gotta be registered and approved with the right forms and shit like that.
And I have a whole collection of pictures of hospitalized women that aren’t registered either. Might make a nice collage out of those someday.
Like, for instance, this one:
Put it on Twitter, give up control.
Also, those laws DUMBFUCK likes to toss about like a fart in a hurricane? One would think that by this point in its illustrious legal career it would have learned that the law doesn’t mean what it says it means just because it says it does. There are a couple of reasons I generally refer to DUMBFUCK as a DUMBFUCK: first, it simply fits; second it’s just a lot easier than typing adjudicated cyberstalker, adjudicated cyberharasser, subject of multiple peace orders in multiple states, proven liar, whining, humorless dickbag.
…it can always dial WHINE-1-1 for a
I think a DUMBFUCK wouldn’t mind if I rephrase his Tweet a bit more accurately:
This is called “mockery.” R.S. McCain has phrased it “The best way to discredit Bill Schmalfeldt is to quote Bill Schmalfeldt.” This practice gives me “butthurt.” I wish it was against the law in Maryland. And the coffee I spilled is evidence that I need to buy a new suit.
A little DUMBFUCKBIRD told me to expect something in the mail on Monday.
Personally, I think it means someone else. But I do have some questions:
Before it went into the envelope, was it rolled into a ball and well-sniffed? Is it properly packaged? Triple-sealed? Labeled with biohazard stickers?
Or should I just let the folks know to keep their LULZ muscles nice and loose?
You want to know why I’m up here in the “towering heights,” and you’re not? It boils down to three very simple words:
Smarter. Than. You.
To answer your pathetic little question…
I want to stay up here in the towering heights and have FUN watching you dance.
I was a bit worried that I would have nothing to mock this morning because DUMBFUCK was suddenly disinvited from Twitter yesterday for being a testicle-footed penis. It seems Twitter is as incapable of learning as DUMBFUCK is. But then again, as the scorpion said to the tortoise just before they both drowned, “It’s just my nature. You knew what I was when you let me climb on your back.”
DUMBFUCK GOTTA DUMBFUCK.
By which I mean, DUMBFUCK don’t gotta exercise a lick of common sense.
When my daughter got her cell phone, ZombieMom and I sat down and had a talk with her about sexting. Of the several things we covered, one of the most important was this:
Sexting consequence 2
It’s embarrassing. The girl in the photo meant her picture for her boyfriend’s eyes only, but that’s not how it ended up. Once something’s on a cell phone, it can be forwarded, uploaded, downloaded, edited, and passed around the Internet and around the world. While the girl in the photo meant her picture for her boyfriend, if they break up, he’ll still have the photo and can do whatever he wants with it. Sexting consequences have included teens who have attempted suicide, and one girl recently succeeded in taking her own life because her photo was forwarded to everyone in her school. Nothing is worth that type of embarrassment. Ever.
Consider where the ultimate responsibility lies when a naughty picture escapes onto the Internet. There was a recent scandal regarding several celebrities’ phones being hacked and nude pictures leaking into the internet. Snapchat’s business model rests on the idea that whatever a user sends is auto deleted after a few seconds from the destination device, but what is left unsaid is that all messages and images go into, and are permanently stored on, Snapchat’s internal servers.
There are only three ways to keep potentially embarrassing photos offline:
Middle school girls know this. Internet investigative journomalistic DUMBFUCKS do not.
In my email yesterday I found a photo. The sending address was obviously fake, and the message was signed Mort in Maryland.
The photo wasn’t particularly graphic; certainly nothing illegal. I can tell you that I wouldn’t want to see a picture of my wife in that state circulating around the Internet like a Kim Kardashian video. Sure, she’s two weeks from dying, but it looks more like two minutes. I think only a sadistic sociopath would want to even TAKE that picture, much less keep it. If someone over the age of 7 gave me this picture as a gift for me to cherish, I would have to question their sincerity and they would probably spend the next several weeks eating through a straw.
But anyway…now I’ve got this photo, taken in room 411B, the woman in the photo with such a frail, put-the-camera-down-you-sick-fucking-ghoul expression, the partial finger obscuring the left side of the lens…really, really sad on so many levels. What should I do about it?
I could post it right here and now. That would be fun, watching it try to spin that “THIS IS NOT MY FAULT!!” will be hilarious. Especially since I know even more about this photo than I am saying here.
Instead, let’s do this: as far as I know, there has been no obituary published, and every obituary needs a photo.
So, if DUMBFUCK would care to continue its madness, I may visit several regional newspapers, money orders in hand, and buy big, flowery obits in its name. And oh, the charitable organizations I could name in lieu of flowers!
On the other hand, if it stops…I won’t have any FUN.
But we already know that’s not an incentive. Neither is the notion that it wants to keep that photo private. It sent THE SAME PHOTO in separate emails to separate destinations. Do you think it knew that by doing that it was robbing itself of the ability to identify which of its harassment targets passed it on to me through back channels?
I’ll bet a year’s pay it didn’t think of that, because DUMBFUCK!!!
And now it’s over a barrel. To paraphrase DUMBFUCK, I hope it doesn’t force me into doing something unpleasant, because my options are limited.
JUNE 24, 2015 – Ruling the world of podcasting on Blog Talk Radio!
JUNE 26, 2015 – switches to LIVE365 after excessive patches of dead air cause the BlogTalkRadio software to disconnect repeatedly. But don’t worry – this is where ALL THE BIG PODCASTERS ARE!
JUNE 30, 2015 – after all the cool podcasters learn of DUMBFUCK’s arrival at LIVE365, they all demand refunds and bolt for other platforms to avoid the stench of associating with it. It’s street cred destroyed, DUMBFUCK hangs in at LIVE365 for two whole podcasts (actually just 23% of one if you exclude pre-recorded stupidity, stammering unpreparedness, umms, ahhs, mouth-breathing, bitching about sound quality an dead air), before it is unceremoniously welcomed into the streets once more.
So, it’s back to Speaker!
Five days, three podcasts, three platforms. Is there a Guinness World Record for biggest failure? Because this really needs to be checked. (Would a trophy on the mantel for World’s Greatest Failure, right next to the last empty bottle of mouthwash from Bob Barker, count as an “accomplishment?”) But never mind that, numbskulls, I’m podcastin’.
16,863rd time’s the charm…DUMBFUCK’S got this, DUMBFUCK! Oh, it’s gonna own that shit! LIKE A DUMBFUCK! Einstein’s definition of insanity be damned! Occam’s Razor, too! Just because it has failed for years running, that doesn’t make it a failure! It would still be a failure even if it had never tried at all!