Tag the Stupid People

Fuck stupid people. No one likes them. Of the numerous things that really piss me off, stupid people account for the vast majority. One thing that drives me to my absolute breaking point is when I see a doe-eyed, overweight housewife, whimpering, and gazing in astonishment at a psychic’s every word on television.

“Can you talk to my dead grandma?” a woman pleads. Her hand is cupped by Montel Williams.

“I am seeing her now. She says she loves you. She is saying something about a kitchen,” the amazing psychic responds.

“A kitchen? Holy shit! My grandma lived in a house with a kitchen!” shouts the woman.

I almost choke on my Slim-jim. She’ll question the psychic more. I mean, she won’t buy it that easily… right? This psychic will have to prove it with a hell of a lot more detailed information than that. No one is that dumb. Nope. No way. Hold on... she isn’t questioning it. She’s clapping and crying. People are applauding the psychic. What in the fuck is going on? All of a sudden, I realize that I am punching myself in the face and turn the television off. What could this woman really offer society? Besides a “Don’t go there!” t-shirt, not much.

Stupid people, while entertaining at times, slow the progress of life, and make being in public frustrating as hell. I could go on for hours about it. Anyone could. The one thing that we can all agree on is that there are too many dumb fucking people in the world today. Instead of just bitching about it, I have a solution. I have a noble idea for the assholes that make you scream in your car, and throw dishes and cutlery at your dog. No, my idea is not a psychotic, murderous solution, like Hitler, or Darth Vader would come up with. It is just an option that would help improve the quality of life.

Dumb people should be tagged. Like the animals they match in intellect, they can be avoided and tracked.

You believe a psychic is real because she told you that your uncle said he loves and misses you from beyond the grave...

Tag.

You shoot your friend with a shotgun while hunting for quail…

Tag.

While driving, you come to a complete stop before you make a right-hand turn…

Tag.

The minute someone illustrates stupidity this horrendously, they should be pointed out. We would have a warning when we were about to encounter a person with an I.Q. the equivalent of a urinal cake. The advantages would be astounding. Think of the shitheads you could avoid. Oh yeah... I'm starting NOW.

Unbalanced

*Original post date 12/30/08 by @KimShannon

For as long as I can recall, people have referred to me as "crazy". 

I always thought the reference meant that I was fun, the life of the party - a real hoot. And I was. Am. But I'm also bona fide crazy... I have Bipolar 1, rapid cycling, and it's a real bitch. I exist mostly in a state of hypo-mania which, according to the American Heritage Medical Dictionary, is a mild form of mania, characterized by hyperactivity and euphoria. Let's face it - energetic and euphoric is something we'd all like to be ALL THE TIME, right? Sigh... If only it could last forever.

Sadly, "forever" is a word without meaning to those of us with Rapid Cycling BP1; our neurotransmitters perpetually misfire, causing our moods to continually shift in accordance with what our imperfect gray matter dictates. We're never in a particular mental state long enough to even say that it feels like forever. So sooner or later, the electric awesomeness of my beloved hypo-manic state will raise its chipper hand to wave bye-bye, and it becomes a tiny dot on the horizon as I am taken prisoner by its replacement mood, whatever it may be. There's no telling whether I will experience the extreme mania or debilitating depression next, but I can tell you that it's the anticipation of what's to come that gets my agitation kick-started either way. The unknown can make a person truly insane; it's the bee that that circles around your head, always a threat but never giving any clues to its intention - you just sit, helpless, waiting for it to sting.

This mood disorder is either a blessing or a curse, I'm still unsure of which. The maximum strength moods never last for more than 2 weeks at a time, which is good, but they can also change in as few as 20 minutes... that's bad. Very fucking bad. As you can imagine, anyone with properly functioning brain signals can't understand what it's like to be trapped in a cyclone of ups and downs, and that makes it difficult to empathize. We cuckoo birds desperately need unconditional support, however, so this post is intended to educate and inform the masses. SPOILER ALERT: It's fucking exhausting. You'll see.

So without further adieu, I invite you to join me on the thrill ride that is Rapid Cycling Bipolar 1 Disorder

I feel(for a while) that nothing can go wrong. I'm like an action hero; I'm SUPERMAN[ic] and nothing can stop me! This is hypo-mania, and I LOVE it!!! My spirit is unrelenting, I am quick on my feet and my mind's sharper than ever... I feel witty and brilliant and popular and loved, and I am sure that I could rule the world if offered the job. I'm on-point and fabulous, and can do no wrong...

I don't have to think about anything. Words just naturally come together perfectly and effortlessly; everything I say is just this side of genius. I'm everyone's best friend and and conversation comes easily. I naturally adjust to different situations.I fit in wherever I go. I am self-assured and assertive. I am outspoken, and people come out of their shell when I'm around them. I can take on 5 tasks at once, completing them faster and better than anyone could. I feel great!

Suddenly, that mood becomes something else entirely. It clicks up about 700 notches and almost takes on a life of its own. Now, the thoughts are coming TOO fast! I can't keep them straight... I almost think I can feel them buzzing while they whip around in my head. My ears pulse and my heart pounds. I'm on sensory overload. Every nerve in my body is awake. I gotta move & get things done, and I devise a plan to do it. I'll come up with a brilliant and WAY too complex course of action, but I am so overloaded by outside stimuli that I am thrown off course. A ringing phone could push me over the edge. Actually having to stop and answer it DEFINITELY would...

People become a distraction to me. If they speak or even move, they're interfering with my thought process, and I can't stand it. I have no patience for people and no interest in making small talk. Tick motherfucking tock - time is wasting. I try to tell them to go away, but I trip over my own words. Yesterday, I could stand on a soapbox and give an impromptu speech about any random thing, and it would have been seamless. But now I have trouble even stringing a sentence together; the words are coming faster than I can form them....

The need to MOVE is overwhelming, and if there's nowhere to go, I pace. Back and forth. Or I just stand and rock on the balls of my feet. Back and forth. Or shake my leg. Up and down. If I sit, it's only for a minute or two until I stand up again. Up and down. Back and forth. I find myself moving in and out of every room in the house, knowing there's an objective, but confused about what it is. If anybody tells me to "calm down" or "take a seat" or "relax - you're a mile a minute", I get irritated and aggressive. My roommate asks me a question, and I lose it! How DARE HE interrupt me when IT'S CLEAR that I'm in the middle of something important? I answer his question in a way that lets him know I don't have time for him. He tries to understand, and asks what's going on. Suddenly, he seems like the dumbest person in the world. His tedious questions are unbearably annoying; he's wasting my time. He's talking too slow, moving too slow. Why can't he keep up? Now I'm furious. He's interrupting my mission. I already forgot 5 times what the mission ACTUALLY IS and now he made me forget AGAIN! I feel like he's doing all this on purpose, as if he WANTS me to fail. How arrogant and selfish of him!!

In a flash, I become a predator. My prey is his spirit, I want to crush it so he'll go away and leave me to my projects. So I do. Whatever it takes - wailing, foaming at the mouth, hurling things across the room, attacking his ego. I say gut wrenching things about his character so he'll go the fuck away and leave me alone. It's clearly all his fault that I'm in such a cluttered state and he deserves whatever he gets just for pushing me so far off track. I don't sleep or eat, sometimes staying awake, unfed, for 6 or 7 days. I begin to drop things, which leads to throwing things. The things I throw break. I. AM. SPINNING.

I cannot hold my tongue and pick fights with everyone. If I get the urge to go out, there's a good chance I won't be home later. And if I do come home, I'll be so drunk someone will have to carry me. I can't stop any of it. I'm edgy and tense, on the verge of snapping at all times. I can't focus on anything, and that makes me mean. I'm convinced that my head is going to implode and then I'll never get to unlock the secrets all these rambling thoughts have been holding. I better get a pen and start writing them down...

And so it goes, until the inevitable crash occurs. Oh hi there, Depression... didn't hear you come in. Sit down, make yourself comfy; you're staying for a while, I assume? When THIS happens, I do not function at all. Not. At. All. The housework, cooking, bills, and laundry all goes untouched. My only movement is shuffling from bed to couch, couch to bathroom, back to bed again. Shuffle to the kitchen, look at the dishes that have piled up, shuffle to the corner, think about how much I want to die because of the dishes that have piled up. Shuffle back to bed and cry about the fact that I can't even do the dishes, and now they are piled up. Shuffle to the bathroom for tissue - I need it to get rid of the tears and snot that are all over my face because I've been thinking about how high the pile of dishes is. Shuffle over to the mirror, realize how DESPERATE and PATHETIC I look, collapse on the toilet seat and think about dying. Shuffle back to bed and pray for permanent sleep. 

Shuffle, cry, shuffle, cry, shuffle, collapse. I don't speak, I stare at nothing and focus on everything negative that has ever happened in my life. I wonder why people love me and then remind myself that they probably don't. I convince myself I'm all alone in the world and that anyone who calls themselves my friend must have an ulterior motive. I feel hopeless, useless, and burdensome. I can't concentrate on anything anyone says. When I do summon the strength to move, it feels like I'm trudging through maple syrup and it's as though my feet are made of lead. Even though I've barely taken 15 steps, I'm exhausted to the point of near collapse. It takes every bit of power I can muster up just to raise an arm, but it's too heavy and I decide I don't want to move anyway. I think about how I was born useless - doomed to fail at everything. I tell myself that death would be welcome. Even being struck by lightning couldn't hurt as much as the pain that I feel at THIS MOMENT... I shuffle, shuffle, shuffle to the sofa. I succumb to weariness and decide I'm giving up. I stop resisting the crushing weight of my eyelids and allow them to close.

When I wake up, it's as if nothing ever happened. The clouds have cleared and all is right with the world. I can do anything! Is it extra sunny today, or am I imaginHEY YOU KNOW WHAT'D BE FUN? Wait. Lemme get some coffee. And a pen. Where did I put all the pens?

And I launch into the cycle again....

Sounds fun, right? It's a real blast.... Especially when everyone around me assumes that I can control this behavior. Well folks, I'm here to tell you that I cannot. Period. Dot. When it happens, it happens and there's no stopping it; even when you see it coming, you can't avoid it. It's like a heat seeking missile and it will find you. 

There is NO CURE for bipolar disorder, only treatment. I am currently taking Lamictal, which is a mood stabilizer that seems, for me, to work on the depression wonderfully (haven't wanted to hang myself in at least 3 days) but the mania is still very prevalent and THAT'S the mood I have the real problem coping with. Of course. Anything else would make entirely too much sense.

A Rant .... Submitted by Heather Al-Juboori

This post was submitted by Heather, who obviously has some strong feelings on the matter... Thanks Heather!

Hey I got something to submit if your still looking for outside info for the blog..


" You are right on target here. Labels are a biitch, no we aren't the center of attentio n seekers, and hey you know the fuck what??? If I had a choice I would make it all just go away and not have the dramatics in my life.. Hell I have tried to ignore this bipolar shit for years. You know what happens when you do that with out help? You fucking cycle and then it gets worse. If your lucky it won't get followed up with anything that leads to legalities. ANd the sad thing is your right. It is a sickness, Its not a fucking tabboo subject. Its fucking life. The autistic the children born with down syndrome, mental retardation, or even are just a little slower on grasping things are born with it too. Too fucking bad you wanna shut it off and walk away and pretend its not there. None of us fucking can!!! Its a living hell battling with yourself everyday teetering between the social ideas of normaility and your reality of normaility. Its as though at times we bipolars are possesed or short circuting. Its a spiral of confusion. Yes we eventually learn to cope and live and be able to function but thats those that are lucky. And then there are those of us that just dont know what is wrong with us or are crying for the help and never get it end up in trouble in our lives not knowing whats up or down. Its a scary thing to face that reflection that you see in the morning...You just can't walk away and pretend they aren't there. You never can walk away from you..I agree Kimmie, Society just doesnt make things any fucking easier for us. the question is are we really that fucking far from the old days? Have we progressed or is it all just another form of putting us in mental institutions and forgetting we exsist to wallow away in our own filth??? I say no. It is up to us to take up our bretheren in this God awful mental war we face daily. We help each other and stand tall and say Fuck off!!! WHo the hell needs your views??? Live in my fucking shoes and live my fucking real horrors in real fucking life both physical and mental and then you can judge me. Fuck off! The normaility is that noone is without fault and in some point int anyones life they can agree they have lived to some small extent at the least of what we live in a day. Don't take pitty, don't look away, and don't fucking stare. Have some fucking balls ask a fucking question and fucking empower yourself you moronic assholes, get educated and stop judging and being afraid of what you know nothing about. Reality and experience in my life suggests that yes sometimes education is scary, because you face cruel realities...but its also what leads to the epiphany of OH NOW I UNDERSTAND!!!

And if you wanna get right down to it..we can be damned good parents, because there are those of us, like myself, that care very much our children. We are very intune with thier needs. We are often able to see warning signs of any emotion issue a child may have...because hey we have lived it. My life has been sure hell. We have endured allot more then allot of any red blodded Americans could take in my family. And because of that, I knew what that meant for my kids...None of it had to do with me or anything I had done. Everything had to do w/ prejudices and morons. And children were the biggest victims. I am damned proud to say that I signed my kids in for counciling and you know what?? The councilor told me that I had children that were very healthy, especially in mental health...Because I learned long ago how to slow the anger, forgive, and move on. And taught it to them. I know this may sound contradictory here but every once in a while someone has to open thier mouths to help those that fucking cant!!

I teeter between meds or no meds. And you know what? I am me, take me or leave me. I am a devoted friend, spouce and dedicated mother, who will rip a fucking head off for those she loves. I advocate for those whom I can, I help the disabled and elderly without any compensation....and you know where I can find the most comfort??? WIth my grandmother..she suffers from althimers and demntia. She is basically feeling the same types of things I am with different labels..

Yeah people,like Kimmie said Labels are a bitch. Too bad Dementia is one of those bitches. I read an online article stating there was a theory that mental health is diagnosed on what it is in different decades of a persons life, ADHD, Bipolar, Depression, Dementia, The theory was that each label was at times difficult to differentiate, if I am not mistaken about this. But it suggested that bipolar and dementia are closely related. SO SOCIETY Shove the labels and looking down the noses and shoulder shrugs and side stares up you ass!!! No matter what a person does someway somehow it happens to everyone. Especially depression, a job loss, a death...Look in the mirror and then prtend that ones not there! HAHA fucking HAHAHA"

IF its good and you wanna use it go for it, edit it I dont care..lol If not its just my POV on agreeing with you. HUGS

Too Much Stuff Going On

Yup. There's just TOO MUCH stuff going on. Not in my life, *sigh*, but on this blog.  Oh yeah. WAYYYYYYY too much stuff. Something's gotta give. 

This page looks like an explosion of a Mardi Gras float carrying 73 beauty pageant contestants who just purged a bucket of Skittles.  I'm used to chaos & mayhem, but this is taking it way too far.



Tacky, tacky, tacky.

Afternoon Ever After (Submitted by Terry)

.

.

AFTERNOON ever AFTER

the afternoon awoke sometime, hours ago
i sleep like vampire at dawn
god can’t be this accurate, but why assume caring now

my barnacled eyes – robin breast red – pry open
towering difficulty, bitterness crawls between my teeth and gums
revolted by my hope that this vulgarity would implode

i know better than breath hope

i grumble out of our comfortable bed detailed shapes on each side
now granite cut, sharp sleep after whiskey pills 3 times dosage fuck this and fuck that
stumble through dying life emptiness
reeking clothes beer cans, bottles yawning computer

find the bathroom – comfort porcelain
the mirror swarms fly-by memories grease fire images
three weeks ago
can’t escape can’t fathom
turn off the light

fall against bathtub gather foetal
place pure darkness where nothing matters
forgetting is no false effort dank room my baby blanket now

hard door knocking again?
calling my name detectives professionally
tread carefully killer found their pride and relief

laugh, i laugh i wretch why do i care?

testify pronounce a man guilty
justice for your wife, you

their voices white noise my self-protective deafness
i don’t care about justice don’t want it know it
not judges people or magic not prisons death needles not god
no blame no guilt for me just a hole
pierced in my soul blackened dead at the edges

let him go shoot someone else
let someone else’s family condemn him

just let him go

Original Poem (Submitted by Terry)

.

.

a divinity here will not be denied

a moral in life and in demise

a moment of celebration

distrusted ambiguity

finality without glamour

welcomed like cold steel

stiff by knowing

no choice, no judge


in
sum
may
may
may
summation
in
sum
mer
mer
mer’s

last fires

in

con

cede

cede

cede

conceding everything

in


dy

ing

ing

ing

declaration

in


mor

tal

tal

tal

coil

in


mus

ic

ic

ic

ic icarus


wings

melting

plummeting

So What?

Hello Readers!!

First Things First:

As you can see, I am back to business - my blog is free & clear of those infuriating photobucket images which were plastered on my pages like makeup on Pammy Anderson... (and let me add that this was through no fault of my own - of course. Nothing ever is.)

Moving on... here's what's happening in my neck of the asylum:

I've been thinking lately about change. More specifically, I've been thinking about changes I've made and asking myself whether or not they've been worth the friggin effort.

Kim: Self, have the efforts I made been worth it?
Self: I'm not sure, Kim. What makes you ask?
Kim: Well, I was thinking that maybe it was easier when I was fucked up - at least I was oblivious to reality. Reality sucks.
Self: Happy is as happy does, Kim.
Kim: Thanks Forrest. And fuck you.

As you can see, conversations with myself rarely turn out well.

Before I discovered the wonderful world of meds, I behaved badly (I make the girls from Absolutely Fabulous look like nuns) but I FELT happy... Seeing things clearly and behaving like a good girl ain't so grand - it's unbearably boring; the world tends to be ugly and people tend to be shit. I wanna be crazy again so the world is just a kaleidoscope and everything is easy, breezy, beautiful; Crazy Girl.
Why would I want sanity when the other side of the coin is so much shinier?


Attainable Affirmations (as published at pendulum.org)


**As I let go of my feelings of guilt, I am in touch with my inner sociopath.

**I have the power to channel my imagination into ever-soaring levels of suspicion and paranoia.

**I assume full responsibility for my actions, except the ones that are someone else's fault.

**I no longer need to punish, deceive, or compromise myself, unless I want to stay employed.

**In some cultures what I do would be considered normal.

**Having control over myself is almost as good as having control over others.

**As I learn the innermost secrets of people around me, they reward me in many ways to keep me quiet.

**I need not suffer in silence while I can still moan, whimper and complain.

**Joan of Arc heard voices, too.

**I am grateful that I am not as judgmental as all those censorious, self-righteous people around me.

**When someone hurts me, I know that forgiveness is cheaper than a lawsuit, but not nearly as gratifying.

**The first step is to say nice things about myself.

**The second, to do nice things for myself.

**The third, to find someone to buy me nice things.

**As I learn to trust the universe, I no longer need to carry a gun.

**I honor and express all facets of my being, regardless of state and local laws.

**Today I will gladly share my experience and advice, for there are no sweeter words than "I told you so!"

**Who can I blame for my problems? Just give me a minute... I'll find someone.

**I am learning that criticism is not nearly as effective as sabotage.

**I am willing to make the mistakes if someone else is willing to learn from them.

Hmmmm....

Kim: What do you think about that, Self?
Self: Only crazy people talk to themselves Kim.
Kim: Sigh.

My Control Will Self-Destruct In 3...2...1...

As you can see, my blog is ALMOST back to it's usual beautifully laid out with the exceptionally hard work and blood sweat and tears or yours truly who is about to explode if this template guy doesn't fix it COMPLETELY this time because I am simply seething right now and I'm afraid that if I end this sentence or even attempt to represent a pause of any kind with punctuation including a period or comma or semicolon or even colon for that matter the result will be that i will go purely apeshit and by apeshit i mean i will freak the fuck out like nobody has seen me freak the fuck out before i mean i am talking smoke frfom the ears foaming from the mouth gripping meat cleaver just rocking back and forth with a maniacal grin plastered under my nose but above my chin repeating the phrase must carve the meat must carve the meat over and over again until i find the solution to this problem all on my own or hunt down the template guy and exact my revenge but i think i probably should just take a deep breath for now and try to regain my composure

(((((((((((((((((((((BREATH)))))))))))))))))))))))))

Maybe I should go for two breaths just in case it falls apart...

(((((((((((((((((((((((BREATH))))))))))))))))))))))))

I think my forehead veins are only Oak Tree trunk thick as opposed to Redwood. That's a good sign. Right? RIGHT??????

Doesn't this guy know that he's dealing with a crazy person here??? (booga booga)

Darwinism and Say Whaaaaattttt?

I am the kind of person who lives by the motto "I'll believe it when I see it".  Because of my limited range of trust, I have always been skeptical of the whole Jesus, Mary & Joseph thing. I never believed that Noah had a boat stuffed with animals, and I serious doubted that J.C. rose after 3 days... Even with the technological and medical advances we've made since then, we still can't manage to magically raise the dead. That's some David Blaine shit. The thing is, I may have discovered a hole in Darwin's theory of evolution by natural selection because there is absolutely no way that the guy I had the misfortune of meeting today online is of the same species as the rest of us. Sorry Charles - you fucked up and missed something - like I said, this guy can't possibly be of the same species. During a heated game of online poker at Full Tilt Poker , the aforementioned  cretin actually spewed this tidbit of verbal sludge - "Hey Danger, you're  pretty hot. Wanna meet in a private room and have a little fun?" 

Say whaaaaaaat?  

For those of you who aren't familiar with the site, this is what I look like on Full Tilt:

YUP.... I'm a friggin' cartoon character. A cute cartoon character, but a cartoon character nonetheless. There must be some kind of animation fetish that I'm not aware of... Ew. So when this caveman asks me if I'd like to meet in a private room, my first reaction is to throw up in my mouth a little bit. My second reaction is to consider the proposition. Would I like to meet him in a private room for some "fun"??  Hmmmm.....

No. Absolutely not. In fact, I can't think of anything I'd rather do less. 

I can, however, think of things I'd rather do more...

- I'd rather gargle with broken glass.

- I'd rather drink a tabasco and shit smoothie.

- I'd rather eat a popsicle made of hobo drool.

- I'd rather straddle a running sand belt.

- I'd rather watch Gary Busey dance in the nude.

- I'd rather try to stop a lawn mower blade with my tongue.

- I'd rather jump into a lion's den wearing a catnip suit.

- I'd rather fall asleep on a killer ant hill covered in kool aid.

So thanks to "creepy poker game guy", I guess I need to rethink my position on Darwinism.

Let's Dine Out (Submitted by Terry)

.

.

Let’s Dine Out

some old bitch toothless for years moving parched
blood cracked lips smack, smack
in,out
metastasized tiara queen snake tongue yellowed by sidewalk
ground cigarettes slap,slap out, in
under her delicate thoughts strewn in rusted grocery cart
with cans and paper and magazines

all rotting

like her that bitch whose name is lost
in her own history in collections untouched
she leads now

i follow like i’m a fool and i don’t know and i can’t notice

she knows what i need she leads to
garbage bins behind pish- posh eateries
she calls me bastard and rapist describes my cock
as a raisin

together we feed the leftovers that were left over but
never salivated on by rich lips or wanted at home by fat wallets
she with gums mushing me, the bastard, chewing civilized in reeking clothes
eating cake, she looks at me like a bleeding lamb

eyes suddenly rainbows hard sun through rain clouds
lucidly she says we should both be dead


yeah

Ever Get The Feeling You're Being Followed?

It's been quite a while since my last post; let me tell you why...
I've officially been stalked for the first time online. In fact, it's the first time I've ever been stalked, period.

As many of you know, I belong to an online support group. Like most support groups, "flaming" in general forums is frowned upon. Thankfully, this group has a thread dedicated to strong opinions, which is appropriately named "The Opinions Page".  This is where the group members can go to post if we have an issue with another member or something they said, general rants, or posts with extra strong language or adult content.
The idea is that if members of the group can confront each other openly and each side is able to say EXACTLY what they'd like to say, uncensored, they can get it off their chest and out of their system so it doesn't interfere with the group dynamics in the general threads. 
But SOME of the time, a member will come into the Opinions Page and voice their disdain about what's being said, the swearing, the name calling, blah blah blahbitty blah. Oh - let me back up for a sec and tell you that there is a HUGE BRIGHT RED WARNING on the very first page of the thread that warns readers/members that they will run into material that is potentially offensive; if they can't handle it, they should turn around and not enter. It also says if they don't turn around but instead decide to enter anyway, they should keep their moral superiority and holier-than-thou attitudes to themselves and just shut the fuck up - they were warned... So like I was saying, every once in a while we'll run into some d-bag who finds it necessary to play judge and jury; they are offended by the content of the thread.  Frankly, I'm offended that they find it offensive - they should be smart enough to heed the warning.  And being the delicate flower I am, I usually have no problem at all letting these jackasses know what I think about their intrusion and it usually includes a few F-bombs as well as a few scattered  "asshole", "douchebag", "dickhead", "dumbass"... "_____________" (insert your own taboo word here - I'm sure I've used it), and definitely a few words that I can't even elude to (just in case my mother reads this).  Usually, the saint either leaves the thread with head hung low (knowing they ignored the warning) or tell me to go fuck myself and we become quick friends... Like I said - USUALLY. But I had a run-in with an extra defensive, insecure, passive-aggressive, self centered moronic individual a few weeks ago...
Apparently, somebody didn't approve of how I handle my business in the "Opinions" thread. As a result, he has been LITERALLY stalking me online. He has been to EVERY SINGLE social network, blog, blog sharing network, article - EVERYTHING I'm a member of, everything I've posted, every blog & article I've ever written. He's left nasty dehumanizing comments and horrible ratings and reviews...
This douchebag left me ratings like 0.1 (on a scale of 1-10) and was bringing down my averages to numbers so low that I've been forced to open new accounts, change emails & screen names - the whole 9 yards... or "yaahds" for those of u who know me LOL)
So bottom line is that I've been refraining from posting ANYTHING ANYWHERE so I could get my shit straight while attempting to get rid of him.
I finally threatened to sic the internet crimes people on him, and I think he's stopped. (PUSSY...) A lot of the reviews he left are deleted now - I'm not sure if HE deleted them or if the sites that I complained to did, but either way, I'm satisfied.
YEAH - I'M STILL PISSED. But at least he's not stalking me anymore (or I don't THINK so anyway)!

So I can get back to brass tacks... thanks for the concerned messages - I can't believe you even noticed my absence. Wait - are you stalking me too?? GULP!