“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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Well, You Walked Right Into That, DUMBFUCK!

I can’t figure out if he thinks this post is libelous…

…or this one from the late, unlamented BillSchmalfeldt.net.

And you’re not fooling anyone, telling people you walked away. You blew that chance years ago. Instead you dug in deeper, and ever since you’ve been caught in a trap of your own making.

There’s no escape, as long as Inflataskank continues to tell you all about the parodies of your works that magically appear.

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Good Afternoon, DUMBFUCK!

How queer.

DUMBFUCK regularly posits that I am yanking the levers behind the curtains of every lickspittle commenter, even as he steadfastly maintains that he actually has a real, live fiancee (and not the skanky balloon animal we all know he pretends with instead) and PLANS TO MARRY HER SOMEDAY!!!

No, really!

Then again, he’s a proven liar, so…

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Self Awareness Fail Number Zero for Eight

‘Nuff said.

UPDATE:

On behalf of the Zombie Horde, fuck you, you toothless, cowardly, lying, racist, cocksnogging balloonfucker.

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Hey, Lying Racist Motherfucker!

Keep a close eye on the Maryland docket today.  I foresee that an order allowing himto attend the trial via Skype will NOT be posted by close of business today.

If he isn’t already in transit northward, he really ought to be.

And this begs a question – where will his balloon animal betrothed be next week?

Will she stay in South Kakalacky to take care of Onyx, or will she come north to nursemaid the bald pussy?

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Speaking of Stupid People…

Even stupid people know that LYING LARDASS DUMBFUCKS who lie about having Parkinson’s disease also lie about doing physical therapy with no shirts on so their fat tits can flap in the breeze, nor do they hold up in the middle of an exercise to take a fucking mirror selfie to post on Twitter.

Having seen and done actual physical therapy, I can tell you that PT hurts like a motherfucker, and there ain’t no time for taking pictures.

Goddamn, wouldn’t you think a guy who lies as often as Bill Schmalfeldt does would eventually improve at it?

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Why Steal Tweets? Why Not?

Sometimes, with some people…extra precautions are necessary when documenting very dangerous levels of stupidity.

And by dangerous I mean “handling nitroglycerin” dangerous.  The kind of dangerous that fear pee-soaked, sandy vagina, nutshuffling penises will delete without warning in a sudden explosion of rank cowardice.

Take this guy, for instance: he might be a world record holder in Twitter cowardice, with the most lost, abandoned or suspended Twitter handles in history. But since he’s a SJW-pussy, Twitter just lets him keep on keepin’ on, as long as his impotent attacks are directed at acceptable targets, even if they are so far out of his intellectual class they might as well be orbiting a different star (and I think that’s everybody who isn’t made of latex and living in a hotel).

This particular DUMBFUCK recently peed himself in an effort to show how the lawsuit in which he is currently sinking fast as a defendant will hinge on HOW TWITTER WORKS rather than on HOW A CONTRACT WORKS.

The reason he wants to argue about Twitter and not about contracts is painfully obvious to anyone with a double digit IQ.

But that’s not the purpose of this post.

The purpose of this post is to explore the reasons why Zombies like myself take screen caps of people’s tweets.

In three simple words: “Because they’re cowards.”

The image you see above is a screencap of a tweet. It’s STOLEN.  (shhh! our little secret…)

I made an image file of it, and uploaded it to an image hosting site.

Why would I do that?

So I could EMBED the URL of the tweet underneath it when I included the image in this post.  You’ll notice that the cursor changes because the image is a link.  Click it, if you want to go to a DUMFUCK Twitter account.

So there must be some advantage to doing this, right?

Indeed there is!

If you were an enterprising zombie, and you chose to delve into the archives on this site, you would find no small number of posts that make somewhat less sense now than they did when they were first published. The reason for this is that I followed the Twitter terms of service and embedded a tweet in the post.

And then the owner of the tweet (GUESS WHO?!?) deleted the tweet, and often the entire account, because he figured out that he might get in trouble for it, and that if he deleted the whole thing the trouble would vanish. Kind of like the old “Family Circus” cartoons:

Y’all remember the name of the oldest kid, don’tcha? Of course you do!

What I have done – what is necessary to do with someone who refuses to produce documents in discovery – is retain an image of the original tweet, so that certain nutshuffling footlong lovers who enjoy watching men fellate other men

It’s true!

can’t delete the evidence of their perfidy and later deny it ever happened.

So you can call it theft if you like, but wouldn’t it just be easier to use the term that a certain DUMBFUCK himself favors:

EVIDENCE GATHERING.

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