The Following Letters Were Just Sent – To Everyone, Everywhere

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To: everyone@everywhere.com; everyone@everywhere.net; everyone@everywhere.org; everyone@everywhere.biz; everyone@everywhere.tv; everyone@everywhere.uk

To whoever is reading this (Everyone, Everywhere):

I am a nearly 60-year old man, a retired federal government employee, living with Stage IV Parkinson’s disease. I am also a whiny bitch. I am reaping the rewards of many years of online harassment of men whose diarrhea I am not fit to strain into a blender of mayonnaise to make a delicious smoothie. I am being continually force-fed my just desserts by a person I believe to be Blurrity B. Blurry, Blurpy N. Blurblurby Blurt, Bluriblur, BL BLURR-BLUR. His phone number is BLU-BLU-BLUR, his IP Address is BL.URB.LUB.LUR.

He runs an anonymous blog called Blurring Blur’s Blurrie (http://blurringblursblurrie.blurredpress.com) that is completely devoted to highlighting my reputation. At the moment, Mr. Blurry is conspiring with his readers to post false negative reviews on my various products on Amazon.com.

I know this because he sent someone a Direct Message on Twitter that could only have been about me. Because all Direct Messages are about me.

EVERYTHING is about me. Why else would I tweet all day about my wife instead of Parkinson’s Disease advocacy, which is what I keep insisting I want to do?

I don’t know. Whatever.

I know of one person who can positively identify “Blurdler” as Blurry. His name is Blurriam Blur Joblur Blur III, 29 Blurdge Blurd, Winchesblur, Blurryland. His phone number is (BLU) RBL-URBY. Mr. Blur can positive identify “Blurdler” since he allegedly purchased the “world book and e-book rights” to the following piece of filth Blurdler posted on his blog. He mailed a check to “Blurdler’s” address, then sued me (unsuccessfully) for copyright infringement in the U.S. District Court for the District of Blurryland for using this garbage in a book to show the distance folks are willing to go in their efforts to show my true nature.

http://blurringblursblurrie.blurredpress.com/2014/04/23/we-can-write-whatever-we-want-right/

This was his first blog entry. It has nothing whatsoever do to with anything I have ever written, and no matter what he says it’s not a parody and it’s not fiction. I swear to God it’s like he was hiding in my house!

Through my own process of investigation, I have discovered that “Blurdler” is the aforementioned Blurry. I won’t bore you with how I found out, because I’m probably wrong again like always. You can ascertain the truth of this by asking Mr. Blur (under oath) and inquiring of Mr.. Blurry.

I have written to BlurredPress/Bluromattic in the past about this blog violating the BlurredPress/Bluromattic terms of service for copyright violation, invasion of privacy, interference with publicity rights, and the failure to label obscene material as mature, which I have never done, as far as anyone knows, because I have so much pride in my writing that 98.7% of it winds up going down the memory hole (Of course that number jumps to 99.628% when you include all the Tweets I’ve never, ever deleted. Up until now, I have been ignored by BlurredPress/Bluromattic. It might be because I’m a whiny cum-gargling fuckwit monkey vulva’d bitch who can’t take what I dish out.

I don’t know. Whatever.

The problem with this is, these blog entries show up on Google because they get page views. They’re funny. Funnier than hell, actually. They are shedding the light of truth on my reputation as a merchant of smears and lies. Other right wing bloggers have joined in the merriment and, as a result, I have been painted in the dark, ugly hues that match the tinct of my tainted soul, and I can’t help but feel this is interfering with the sales of my smear books.

Two other individuals, Blurric B. Blurson, BLUR Blurrock Rd, Blurris, UR, and Bhlurs Blurther, BLUR Blurlington Ave, Blur, Blurine, LU, have been actively involved with Mr. Blur and Mr. Blurry in defaming me. Mr. Blurson, under the pen name of BLUR, has been bragging on “Blurdler’s” Blog about writing negative reviews of my smear books that he has never purchased and only reads the online samples. And he promises to continue doing so, despite my warning that he cease and desist treating me as I treat others, the meanie! Bhlurs Blurther has been involved with me since I was epically pwn3d by his “Knot in My Blursblursin” Facebook crew in 2011 in their involvement with an effort to scam the media (and me, they’re mutually exclusive) into thinking they were trying to interfere with the gathering of petitions to recall their governor. He uses the name “Blurard B. Lurl” or Embrlurrybluriddleablurum, but he has been positively identified as Blurther by his former “Knot” cronies (who shined me on before and would never do it again! Because by God, if I could drive or lift my arms, I’d beat them to death and they know it) and by my own investigation which has misidentified him “about a hundred and forty-seven times, and it keeps gettin’ funnier every time I fail at it!!”

What I want is to be able to harass these people without consequence. I want these people to have nothing to do with me. I want them to stop telling people the truth about my books and to stop doing such a good job spreading my trashy reputation all over the Internet. I want someone to conspire with me to harass them, and to conspire to write fake positive reviews for my smear books so they will sell a few more copies and I can buy a special jar of wasabi mayonnaise to paint my taint.

What I want is, after two long years of this, is for law enforcement to take me seriously for the online threat that I am – a deranged, unbalanced, undiagnosed, unmedicated, unsupervised, undisciplined, serially adjudicated cyber-harassing online thug who cannot stop, will not stop digging into the private lives of people who would rather I just go away. Please, please, PLEASE SEND SOMEONE TO FIT ME FOR AN EXTRA-LONG-SLEEVED JACKET, a big poke of Thorazine and a ride to a nice assisted living facility where I’ll be protected from myself –
a disabled Vietnam Era veteran, a Stage IV Parkinson’s disease survivor who has pledged the proceeds of his piddling sales to the benefit of Parkinson’s disease research agencies who, once they take a close look, run like the Mississippi in flood season.

I have been tormenting these people, and others, for more than two years. Mr. Blur has had to seek two separate peace orders against me. The first he won from a judge who disagreed with me regarding what behavior constitutes harassment. The second was uncontested because I failed to check the calendar and didn’t bother to appear. But it was ALL HIS FAULT BECAUSE NOTHING IS EVER MY FAULT! I always have a lie, an excuse, a prevarication, a rationalization for my behavior and an externalized cause for why it has never turned out my way.

I have asked Blurnry County, UR, as well as Blurard County, Blurryland, Blurine County, LU, and now Blurk County, BL to investigate the activities of these people and all I get is shrugged shoulders and advice to “get off the internet and they’ll stop bothering you.” Which, oddly, is the same advice the people I torment give me. Isn’t that weird. I don’t know. Whatever. The Internet is my last connection with the outside world, and I will not allow criminals to deny me that connection. Dear God, how did old people survive before the Great Gift of the Benevolent AlGore, Peace Be Upon Him?

I put it to our elected representatives and law enforcement to look into this. Here in Maryland, we have dandy laws to protect minors from people like me. But an adult living on a meager pension who can’t take triple the butthurt he tries to dish out is out of luck. I can’t afford a lawyer, hooch is weird because I was making nearly $100k when they “forced” me to retire, and I can’t find anyone willing to sue these people on a “contingency.” Maybe it’s because I’m a “cretin” who can’t “understand” that not even the lowest, scum-sucking, bottom-dwelling “ambulance chaser” will take a case on “contingency” if that case has no “chance” of “prevailing” on the “merits.”

But, “hey,” “don’t” “these” “air quotes” “make” “me” “look” “cool,” “hip” “and” “smart?”

I need law enforcement to do its job and stop me before I dox again. I need these Internet service providers to live up to their terms of service and ban me for life. I need protection from these people who are out to destroy any chance I have at living my life without being able to harass you, should the mood strike me. They have already so poisoned Google that anyone searching my name will see all manner of hilarity. And mayonnaise.

I need an advocate to look out for my interests, because if nothing else in this letter is true, I am not capable of recognizing my interests. It’s me vs. all of them. I started this war, and now the Allies have taken Berlin and I’m alone in the bunker. I need your help. Hit. The. Freaking. Tip. Jar.

Thank you.

Parkinson Williams
Blurridge, Blurryland

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How To Maintain A Sterling Reputation

Forget your laws of the Internet:

1. McCain’s Law
2. The Streisand Effect

Do not watch this video.

Please do not watch this video.

If you watch this video, do not come to me later looking to get back 19 minutes of your life.

P.S. Does anyone we know live in WINCHESTER, Maryland?

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Memory Check

Hey, you know what would be fun?

1. Hand CBBS a gun.

2. Tell him it will REALLY PISS OFF Paul Krendler if he blows his own brains out.

3. Stand back. Watch for spatter.

UPDATE –

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I think we can safely assume, absent an explicit denial, that Billy Buttpustule still agrees with the stuff he wrote back then. It doesn’t mean that I agree, but I guess we’ll have to see if what’s good for the buttmonkey is good for the gander.

Hmm…how to test that…might need a time machine. Whose week is it?

???

UPDATE 2 – WHOOPS! Memory check fail. He remembers the what but not the when.

So sorry not sorry. But we have a lovely sewing machine and some mouthwash as a parting gift.

Ah, memories!

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Updated Book Review

Some of you may have noticed that my review of Animus Nocendi was taken down from Amazon after a few days. Apparently someone’s sand-filled girlyparts got even more irritated than usual and they complained about the “spiteful language.”

So I thought I’d try again.

I had written a review of this book previously, but it was apparently censored for “spiteful” language. Call me silly, but I think if a writer can’t take a little criticism without wetting himself, he might be in the wrong line of work. But anyway, let’s take another look.

A very, very high percentage of this work is comprised of public domain court documents and “borrowed” blog posts which have been sufficiently butchered by the author that they conform to the Fair Use Doctrine, if only just. The only original content in this book is a few paragraphs of commentary to break up the various borrowed content, so I will confine my review to that.

The original material is not actually bad for an unedited first draft. This book is consistent with others by this author in this respect; if nothing else, his prodigious self-published output provides compelling evidence for the necessity of the editor in the writing process. An editor could provide not just correction for the spelling, grammatical and usage errors which have made it to the page; she could also improve the voice and tone here. What sounds like a very young, profane and angry writer could be smoothed out into a more a mature and adult voice, de-emphasizing the hyper-emotional style in favor of a more rational discourse.

As someone who is reasonably familiar with the facts of the cases discussed in the book (I was an unserved party in one, and an interested observer in the others), I should say that the facts of this case are rarely addressed by the author. He twists them. He perverts them. He passes off his unsupported conclusions as “facts.” He makes up a few outright falsehoods and tries to pass them off as “facts” as well, particularly in ascribing motivations to the actions of others in this little psychodrama. Conversely, he also omits several facts about himself which would greatly change the tone of the story.

That’s all right, though. That’s what hagiography is. Without a completely virtuous hero and completely evil antagonists, the whole effort is a complete failure even before it’s published.

And sometimes, it’s a complete failure anyway.

X-posted at Fair Use Parody Productions.

UPDATE –

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My ever-so-Dependable little dancing monkey waltzed out to note that while my original review did irritate his sandy vagina (he didn’t deny it, so I can now assume it’s true that he has a vagina and it is filled with sand, based on his journalistic ethics, right?), he was not responsible for getting the original review taken down.

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The Thinking Man’s Zombie regrets the error, while also noting that he felt the need to contact Amazon again regarding this most recent review.

A PLUPERFECT example of how he assigns false motivations to others’ actions in real life as well as in print. In his addled mind it could not possibly be true that his book simply sucks.

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You Want It Done? You Want It Over? Simple.

Here’s a road map:

1. You surrender and slink off the field like the cowardly weasel you are;
2. I stand victorious, absorbing the accolades of the cheering throngs;
3. After a fortnight of celebration in my camps, coinciding with a fortnight of complete silence from your camp, I withdraw to the border status quo ante, to take up watch;
4. If you remain silent, you remain free, but at the first hint of a desire to renew hostilities, I rejoin the battle and once again bring all my energy and resources to bear.

Or…

We can keep going just like we are now.

I dropped my sword and walked away once, at the request of John Hoge. Remember what happened next? I do.

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So you’ll pardon me if I respond your assurance that you will drop your sword with a) a 50 lb bag of rock salt, b) a hale and hearty GFY, and c) a requirement of 100% compliance with my terms as a condition of your surrender.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

And, taking a page from your book, this is not a negotiation.

If you try to negotiate, the beat goes on.

If you question, the beat goes on.

If you bother anyone else, even somebody I don’t know or care about, the beat goes on.

If you cannot figure out how to control yourself, the beat goes on.

If you want it to stop, then stop it.

All you have to do is quit, and weather the shame of it for 2 weeks, probably less. Easy enough if you just power down and read a nice Danielle Steel or Jackie Collins rag. If you’re half as intelligent as you think you are, you know you are going to have to take that hit – it will come regardless, and I don’t have any power over what people say on Twitter. Yes, I do have power over the comments here, but I made a conscious decision to allow exactly the kind of comments you decry, including from you. I will not change that policy to suit you or anyone else. You dug your own hole here, and you hastened your own exit after being given every chance. You didn’t care enough to answer one question. Your choice. Your action. Your consequence. Your responsibility.

You want a “truce?”

Now you know how to get it.

I hope I have not been unclear.

UPDATE –
https://twitter.com/parkinsonsmedia/status/513031724608266242

https://twitter.com/parkinsonsmedia/status/513031869072703488

Wait…what?

Are you saying you NEVER WERE SERIOUS ABOUT A TRUCE?

Well…color me shocked.

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Monkey Dance Monday

I had the inaugural “Moving On Monday” post all set to go, but the real time Parkinson’s Disease advocacy coming out of Elkridge today has far surpassed anything I could have imagined. Maybe next week.

Remember waaaaay back – gosh, when was it? Seems so long ago…oh, yeah – Saturday, when he said
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You know, I hate to say “he can talk the talk, but he can’t walk the walk,” because that seems just a cruel thing to say to a man, person cartoon supervillain with his challenges.

But when have I ever let propriety stop me?

He can talk the talk:
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Since then, one hundred twenty new tweets (and counting) without one mention of Parkinson’s Disease.

(I know some of you young zombies out there are at least partially responsible for a couple of them – I will generously share credit)

He can’t walk the walk (or roll the roll, as the case may be). He’ll always be back for more punishment.

I hope everyone had a good time watching his masterful Feldtdown today. I didn’t say anything because I was afraid if I did, he might stop.

You’re welcome.

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AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!

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He doesn’t really want that, you know. Of course we all know that.

He had it. He had the “LEAVE ME ALONE!!” It was the most important “get” that he took away from the settlement. All he had to do to stay left alone was to do the same.

But he couldn’t. The poor, bitter, hateful, lonely old mandouchebag. He had to go hunting again. He had to come hunting for me.

So, for the THIRD GODDAMN TIME (because YES, HE IS THAT DENSE), I trotted out something Grady had given me. And finally, finally! the tiny four-watt bulb that hangs outside on the terrazzo of the ever-so-spacious mansion where I live rent-free popped on, the “trapsie-wapsie” snapped shut, and we have liftoff on what looks to be a three day monkey-dancing Feldtdown of epic, nay GARGANTUAN proportions.

He wants to be left alone, but only on his terms. He wants to be left alone from the consequences of his actions. He wants to be left alone to tell his lies without anyone standing up to call him out. He wants to be left alone to hunt down Grady and try to scalp his job again.

Because that worked out so well the last time.

He’s not afraid of Grady. Just ask him.

“No, I’m not afraid of that mentally unbalanced, self-professed sociopath. (You notice he can never let that menacing phrase go? Just like he can never remember the evil thing Grady did that required the doxing in the first place?) Never mind that I falsified evidence in order to swear out a peace order at the mere whiff of a suggestion that he might be looking in the general direction of the state where I live. Which I then completely pussied out on at the prospect of him showing up to face me in court. He doesn’t scare me. I’m not even a little bit scared.”

(Grady wrote that bit. Good, right?)

It’s worth remembering. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, forever. He lies. Especially when he says he wants to be left alone.

Or when he says –

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What he’s really saying is: “someone PLEASE tell me who Krendler is! PLEASE, PLEASE, mock me! hate me! loathe me! Give my pathetic existence the gravity of your hatred as a substitute for the lost love and companionship of the family that I’ve driven away and the failures I have endured!”

And what I have learned is that the best (and most FUN!) way to deal with him is to DENY him what he really wants by GIVING HIM what he says he wants.

He doesn’t “fucking CARE” who I am. Hence the frivolities of the weekend thus far, to show how much he DOESN’T care.

He says “LEAVE ME ALONE!!” after nearly a week of being left alone, during which he tried to bait me, followed by four days of hammering at Hoge and every Lickspittle in reach.

So I’m with Grace. And Dalton.

I’ll leave him alone.

Until it’s time to NOT leave him alone.

Which surely won’t be long.

Tomorrow – the Major Bleg.

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In His Own Words

I didn’t write this. Bill Schmalfeldt did. I took it from his blog to demonstrate his true self-image, the true nature of his character. And here’s another example of Bill Schmalfeldt’s own words, also taken from the same post:

“Therefore, their use qualifies as ‘fair use’ for the purpose of demonstration and criticism.”

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present Bill Schmalfeldt’s raging id:

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He said it, not me.

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