Over on his new-and-improved Twitter account, the Deranged, Multiple-State Adjudicated Cyber Harasser and Stalking Oedipal Troll has posed a series of questions. At the moment, it seems like it could be…
…to answer them.
When did I become a professional comedian?
This is a loaded question, dripping with late-stage Parkinson’s dementia. If he doesn’t remember, I don’t see why I should help.
But for the sake of the FUN, it all started when you started writing and recording funny (always a subjective descriptor, but we’ve had THAT conversation before. You probably don’t remember it) things and putting them up for sale. That’s what professionals do. They exchange their knowledge, services, products and craftsmanship for value in the form of MONEY. You have said many times that you are selling copies of books and CDs.
Are you not a professional, being paid for his efforts, as unfunny as they may be?
Or are you just lying, like you always do?
Now, if you could find a way to get someone to pay you for the flailing monkeydancing you do when Howard or I push your buttons, you could make some REAL money!
I understand the hatred. What I can’t understand is lying about the reasons for the hatred. Or the cowardly way the cowards express it.
You soooo overestimate your place in the pecking order. I don’t hate you. I don’t think anybody hates you. Hate requires energy, passion and fire, and I don’t think anyone of us Lickspittle Zombies has that kind of energy to spare on you. I can only speak for myself, but what I feel for you is an overwhelming sense of pity. Some disgust. Revulsion. Sometimes that queasy feeling you get from burping up a tiny bit of vomit? I feel that, too.
And this cowardice of yours that you continuously project into me! That’s funny, though not in a way that would get you paid. It’s also incorrect. I’m no coward. I guarantee you that if I filed a Peace Order petition, or whatever they call it in my state, against you, I’d show up in court. And if you were ever lightning-strike lucky enough to figure out where to serve me with a Peace Order of your own, you can be damn sure I’d show up in court in Howard County.
Not like you, you brave sir Knight! The way you took to the hills last month when you realized Mr. Grady was coming to call your obvious bluff was some entertaining shit! Too bad you couldn’t get paid for that! That was worth real money.
No, I’m no coward. There’s another word for people like me who shoot from cover and hit their target with consistent, deadly accuracy, and that word is sniper.
You won’t ever catch me.
How can you know for a fact someone is NOT Chris Heather but not know WHO he is? Makes no sense.
I beg to differ. When laid next to your certainties over the last week that a) EPWJ mailed you horseshit, and then b) Howard D. Earl (who must be Chris Heather) mailed you horseshit, and then c) LibraryGryffon knows who mailed you horseshit and knows who Chris Heather is, and then d) Grace mailed you horseshit, and then e) I know who mailed you horseshit, and then f) I mailed you horseshit, and then g) Hoge mailed you horseshit, it makes far more sense than anything you’ve supposed is true. You are merely too thick to see that, and I am not interested enough to educate you.
Because when you are stupid (and you are very, VERY STUPID) you monkeydance. And when you monkeydance, I have FUN!
Goodness @brainsrfood sure likes to write about poop.
No, you mental midget. I like to write about you. But there’s hardly a difference, and we both know that, don’t we?