Mocking Schmalfeldt

Bill Schmalfeldt says we’re utter failures.

I think not.

Mocking my disease = Fail

Bill, you keep whining about this, but we wouldn’t know anything about your infirmities if you didn’t insist on oversharing… and on trying to use your ill health as a weapon.

Mocking my size = Fail

Bill, you keep whining about this, but we wouldn’t know anything about your obesity if you didn’t insist on oversharing… and on insulting other people on the basis of their weight.

Mocking my wife = Fail

Bill, you keep whining about this, but we wouldn’t know anything about your wife if you didn’t insist on oversharing… and on trying to use her as a weapon or to solicit sympathy.

Mocking my court record = Fail

Bill, you keep crowing about this, but you also keep ESCALATING your stalking and harassment… and at some point a judge is going to lose patience with your bullshit and put the hammer down on your ass.

You don’t know me.

You don’t know US.  We know all about you.  You can’t shut the fuck up, can you?

You don’t know the first thing about me.

We know your address.  We know what you look like.  We know what your wife looks like.  We know your relatives, and for the most part we know why you’re estranged from most of them.  So, yeah, we know MORE than the first thing about you.

You act as if you’re some unique and special personage, Sir Schmalfeldt of Eldridge. You’re not.  Does the phrase “just another asshole on the Internet” ring a bell?

I’m as happy as a man with 15 years of Parkinson’s can be.

You have Parkinsons!?!? OH SHOCK AND DISMAY! Why didn’t I get the memo?

I’m very worried about my wife, but the Lord Giveth and the Lord Taketh away.

Yeah, we can tell how worried you are, as you hunch over your computer and peck out insults and threats at strangers, and wait to find out if you you’re going to jail or not.

There is really nothng you little boys can say that bothers me in the slightest.

Your actions reveal your words as lies.  Why do you bother lie to us?

You amuse me.

You have interesting ways of displaying your amusement.

You are a diversion.

Sure.  Because you’ve got nothing on your plate.  Date in criminal court, a wife you claim is dying, working on your LOLSuit and waiting to piss on yourself when you get served counterclaims?  Perhaps less diversion might be in order.

For now.

Well, we can always hope you get tossed in jail, prohibited from the Internet, or perhaps you’ll do us all a favor and just die like you keep teasing us about.

If I go to jail for offering cancer information…

Bullshit.  You violated the peace order because you simply couldn’t stop yourself from putting Bill Schmalfeldt in the middle of the Hoge’s business.

to a the wife of a guy who has tried to frame me over and over and over again, oh fucking well.

Bullshit.  Out of over SEVEN BILLION PEOPLE on this planet, you need to quit harassing ONE OR TWO.  Boo fucking hoo!  You’re in trouble because you insist on pushing the boundaries of the law with your harassment and stalking.

Your claims of forgery and such silly shit is just that:  Silly shit.

Bill, by and large, normal folks don’t deal with bat-shit crazy assholes like you.  Prosecutors, judges, law enforcement?  All the time.  They may not want to deal with you, because of the paperwork involved if nothing else…  But at some point their sense of humor is going to run out.  And it will be HILARIOUS.

The only truly tragic element is I won’t be there to see your face when that ton of bricks finally comes down on your dick-dented head.

It ain’t gonna happen, of course, but if it does?

You keep pushing Bill, and it’s gonna happen.  If not this time, than the next time. Or the next. Because we’ve seen you over the last decade, and you simply will NOT FUCKING LEARN.

You’re at the end of the road, Bill.  Nobody reads or listens to your drivel, except to document the harassment and to LAUGH.  Nobody allows you to comment on their blogs, besides ME…  And you pay the price for that, in humiliation.

Jail is just another place to be.

Brave talk, from the man with urine flowing down his leg.

Now, go pop your zits, lick your fingers clean, and go to bed and dream of the bitter disappointment you will experience in the week ahead.

Sounds like you wish you were back in the days when acne was all you had to worry about… and the occasional transvestite, of course.  FOCUS, SCHMALFELDT!

Everything about you = Fail

Yah ya yadda ya.

Oh, I was just wondering, Bill…  Where are all your good “friends”?  It seems to be just you, against all the Lickspittles.

They can’t even spare you a few lines of support in your time of (literal) trials?

You don’t have to DREAM about bitter disappointment, do you Bill?  YOU LIVE IT. EVERY HOUR OF EVERY DAY.

Dwell on THAT.