…is New (and Stupid, Pointless, Bound to Fail) Again!
Please welcome the all-same-old, all-stupid, all-poop-obsessed, racist, bigoted, anti-Semite, misogynist, stolen valor (boy, I hope the PD at KDSN read those posts), hypocritical, pet abandoning, almost was a radio host again until he started insulting potential listeners before he got on the air, lying motherfucker Bill Schmalfeldt back to Twitter as @TrumpThumpCast.
At least for a couple days, anyway.
Have we reached 250 handles yet? Or are we not getting excited again until he nears 300 handles, which should be right around the 4th of July, I think?
I wonder why this blog keeps getting hits from Denison, Iowa? It never used to…perhaps someone is someone stuck there without a job or the means to get back to South Carolina? Someone who just wants to be left alone and live his life, if only he could break this addiction to butthurt?
WJJ Hoge III? Patrick Grady? Marvin Rodriguez? Paul Lemmen? Scott Hinckley? Dave Alexander? You other clowns who believe yourselves to be anonymous and untouchable? (You're not.) Thrown mud can fly in both directions.
Drop the mud and walk away. Or test me. Choose wisely.
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.
Would whoever is looking at https://t.co/QTkCzzofBA send @wjjhoge a note and identify yourself? Every time someone looks at his dreadful blog he assumes it's me. I'm just not as "into" him as he is with me, and it makes him say crazy things. Thanks. #paranoia#senile
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.
Out of the hundreds of times that WJJ Hoge III tried to tag me with a criminal charge for the high crime of using an @ front of his name on Twitter, he only came close once. He writes about that adventure on https://t.co/cT1BfVtGBu blog this morning. /1
Of course, he's lying. He was never told by any federal agency to present an email from me to the Carroll County District Court for pressing of charges. That is a blatant lie. The reason I contacted him in the first place was because he posted a blog entry… /2
… about his wife being diagnosed with cancer. Although he did have a standing no contact order against me because the snowflake was scared of seeing the @ in front of his name on Twitter, I made the mistake of showing some human compassion for his wife's sake. /3
My last full-time job before retiring was as a writer-editor at the National Institutes of Health clinical Center. I worked for the office that coordinates and schedules patients for clinical trials. I offered to do what I could to cut through red tape if Hoge and his wife…/4
… were interested in pursuing a clinical trial to treat her cancer. That very night he had the police at his house, so that calls bullshit on his story about being told buy a federal agency to file the charge. /5
Out of the nearly 400 charges Hoge tried to pin on me, this is the only one that wasn't dismissed outright. It went to trial, wasting God knows how much money, and I was found not guilty. Yes. I faced trial for offering to help my adversary's wife get treatment. /6
His wife eventually died, but at least my conscience is clear that I didn't withhold information from an enemy that may have benefited his wife if she chose to use it. Hoge never likes to talk about that. Likewise, he never mentions…/7
… that the two times he sued me, he lost on the merits – not on jurisdictional issues, but on the rightness or wrongness of the charges he presented. That never gets mentioned in his nightly dragging out of years old blog posts meant to stir up hatred against me. /8
WJJ Hoge III is a sad, bitter old man who hates his life, his son, and his lack of real-life purpose. He lives for the adulation of a small cadre of anonymous commenters who egg him on by stoking his mortally-wounded ego. /9
Take away his hatred, he would feel nothing. Take away his urge to be a nettle in the hide of people he believes have wronged him, he would have nothing left to do but die. Therefore, I blame myself for giving him reason to live. He doesn't deserve it.
Are we up to a hundred “final” warnings yet from the Mendacious Manatee of Myrtle Beach?
Tiresome little twat.
On a related note…for as vociferously as he contests the notion that he does not have PD, in spite of all his self-contradictory statements, I don’t think I’m the only one who has noticed that he hasn’t posted a single mention of the Shrine of the Holy Resting Place of the Ashtray Soulmate, the Blessed Saint Gail of the Clockwork Urn. In point of fact, I don’t think he has ever denied the allegations that he left her behind in the Midwest (and the capricious currents of the Mississippi River) when he went chasing strange down in Dixieland.
Since the beginning of 2017, Bill Preston-Schmalfeldt, poor, poor, pitiful put-upon Porkinson’s patient who only wants to be left alone in peace, has published EIGHT stories in as many months about a reporter he commenced harassing some five years ago. The following links are broken:
Poor, poor, pitiful put-upon prevaricating Porkinson’s pants-pisser Bill Preston-Schmalfeldt has also published the following stories since the beginning of 2017 about an attorney in good standing within his legal community and before the bar who wants nothing to do with the stupid, lying motherfucker currently serving as Editor-at-Large and Chief Dimwit in Command of Breitbart Unmasked. The following links are also broken:
How can this lying, shit-sniffing, turdrolling valor stealing DUMBFUCK make it more obvious that he only wants not to be bothered and picked on by people who respect the people he wants to be left alone to bother and pick on?
People, I’m serious as a large hematoma sustained in a massive vertical aerial impact passing from mattress to armchair (that’s “a bruise from falling out of bed like a klutzy DUMBFUCK,” for those of you who speak normal English) here!
It’s obvious to anyone with three working brain cells what ALWAYS precedes a brief period of peace and quiet for the DUMBFUCK. (HINT – It’s not a LOLSUIT!) Why isn’t he smart enough to figure it out, other than the notion that he’s almost certainly two or more brain cells short of the minimum requirement?
Looks like the monthly check has cleared and the serious drinking is underway.
“If it gets published anywhere I will know who did it as it hasn’t been published anywhere else.”
That is an exact quote from an email that wasn’t even sent to Scott Hinckley aka agiledog.
“I have never publicized this photo, so if I see it on anyone’s blog I will know Hoge is responsible.”
That is an exact quote from an email that was copied to WJJ Hoge.
Nowhere in either statement is there a request, a demand, or an instruction that the photo the author is referencing not be published. All the author has done is inform two separate audiences in two separate emails that if someone does publish the photo
Aw! Yer makin’ me blush!
he will know who was responsible. Which is why he sent it out more than once, so there would be absolute and irrefutable proof point to which of exactly twenty or so people could have done it.
And until DUMBFUCK himself publishes the complete contents of both o the (soon-to-be-forged) version of the emails he sent out, we will just have to assume (correctly, as always) that the HZIC is right, and the DUMBFUCK is a nutshuffling, testicle-footed, valor-stealing DUMBFUCK.
Let’s see if we can get that accomplished by close of business East Coast time today, shall we?
Tick-tock, said the Really Useful Urn from a landfill somewhere in Iowa.
BS: Hi there, My name is William Schmalfeldt, and I’m calling about a civil no contact order that was taken out against me in January 2016.
BS:Uh, the file number is 15CVD2054.
BS: And what I’d like to know is, uh, the plaintiff gave her address as 501 Redd St in Re-Reidsville, uhhh…NC. Now the application for the 50C says you can give an alternative address. Uh, but, but it also says did the, uh – let me see, call it up here so I can quote it exactly…hang on her just a sec…yeah, uh, under “Note to Plaintiff<” uh, line one, which box did she check?
Clerk: Uh, which, under the complaint? Or –
BS: Uh, the application. In the 50C application.
Clerk: Okay, which form?
BS: Uh, hang on just a second. I can-
Clerk: Because you got a copy of the form.
BS: I’m looking, I’m looking, I’m looking at it right now. Hang on. It is form number AOC-CV-520.
Clerk: Okay, you got a copy of everything, um, that she filled out.
BS: Well I no longer have it, and I just really have one question.
Clerk: Okay , and you’re wanting to know which-
BS: Which box she checked under line one.
Clerk: Hold on.
Clerk: Okay, um, you wanted to know which line she che-, on one, which line she checked?
Clerk: She checked “the plaintiff resides.”
BS: She – okay, and if the plaintiff did not reside in Rockingham County when she filled that out, is that something I should discuss with your local sheriff?
Clerk: Hmm, you can talk to a lawyer.
BS: All right, well, we’ll do that. Thank you very-
Clerk: All right, Bye-bye.
BS: But, but, but she definitely checked “the plaintiff resides” in this-
Clerk: Well, you should have a copy, if you’d like me to mail you a copy-
BS:Well, yeah, but I-I-I-I moved, uh, and uh, didn’t see any reason to keep this, because I thought she still lived in Rockingham County until yesterday. Now I find out that she moved in November ’15 to, uh, Greensboro, but still filed this suit, uh, this uh-uh-uh, restraining order in January 2016 claiming she lived in Rockingham County when she lived in Guilford County.*
Clerk: Uh, well, if you’d like a copy we can mail you a copy of it.
BS: Would you do that? Let me give you my address.
Clerk: Okay, what is the address?
BS: It’s uh, 220 [deleted]
Clerk: Okay. We’ll get it out to you.
BS: I do appreciate that, thank you very much.
Clerk: Uh-huh. Bye-bye.
*This is the part where the lies are absolutely unmistakable. If you have the stomach for it, go listen to it eight or nine times. There’s no way he’s telling the truth here. Also, it’s where he practically admits stalking. “I thought she lived HERE until yesterday, and I have vowed not to eat, sleep, use the bathroom or speak to the Inflataskank until I find out her current address and get her arrested for relocating without telling me. But I’m totally not a stalker or anything.” Or words to that effect.
On an unrelated note: Did you know that the US Marshals have been finding people and serving process on them for literally decades without even the smallest bit of help from Bill Schmalfeldt? It boggles the mind to consider how they have managed without him.
Admitting you have a problem is the first step. It says so in the book for the Friends of (a Different) Bill. I feel I need to make that distinction because everyone knows this Bill has no friends. I wouldn’t want anyone to be confused.