Wednesday, May 05, 2004

Oh Ricky You’re So Fucked, You’re So Fucked It Blows My Mind, Hey Ricky … Hey Ricky …

I thought last week I had run “afowl” of some real life PETA Nazis. I was actually quite excited because it’s been a dream of mine to take that pretentious, time wasting, money diverting, ego-trip of an organization on for years. Alas, it has not come to pass after all. After a few hours of some basic internet sleuthing, it turns out that the series of anonymous hate filled comments being posted on my weblog from a “supposed” animal lover came from none other than our dear friend Ricky.

If you recall, Ricky is the deaf, self hating cocksucker that thought there was something funny about the way he taunted my buddy Ryan, wishing for his death and other amusing bon mots. I thought Ricky understood that having an opinion is very different from celebrating someone having an illness or wishing publicly for someone’s death. Apparently, the passage of time has emboldened Ricky enough that he decided to try the same tactic on me both anonymously, and in disguise (NYCAttitude Lady? Honestly, Ricky…..). It seems that Ricky hasn’t learned that there will be consequences for his actions and he may not get the response he was hoping for. So, have a seat class. School’s back in.

Ricky complained on another comment board that “he deleted the comments when I pointed out his faults -- he got pissed off or was flabbergasted by that so he decided to delete it and make it sound like he won the argument.”

No Ricky, I deleted the comments when you repeatedly left anonymous posts on my comment page. I have a rule; I may allow you to post one anonymous comment if I feel like it or want to respond. After that, I insist you post it with an e-mail link or a real link to a real homepage. My weblog, my rules. (Rules subject to change by me at whim) It’s good to be Queen. After all, Ricky, if you think whatever offensive comment or stupid misspelled remark you’re going to make is that important, I think you should grow a set of balls and put your name to it. Don’t you want the world to know that you are a person who would publicly wish for an HIV+ person to “be consummated with AIDS. Then die.” Or that you will “buy fireworks when I am finished.” You can’t be ashamed of making such vile statements can you, Ricky? But that’s OK, Ricky. Cause I’m going to make sure that everyone knows you. Let’s have another look at what Ricky looks like, shall we?

And for the record there was no “argument.” An argument is when two human beings are discussing a subject. There is nothing even remotely human about you Ricky. You are just a sad small man with a severe case of arrested development who occasionally lashes out at this person or that out of frustration at how pathetic your life has turned out. The fact that you seem to take delight in wishing AIDS on people just makes you more reprehensible than others.

I see by running through your weblog) for the month that I’ve been on your mind a lot lately. (No link has been provided because it’s full of the same kind of negative energy and the lack of command of English or basic punctuation makes it a horrendous read.) Strange, because until I discovered you were the one trying to spread your poison on to my little corner of the internet I hadn’t thought of you at all. Not once. You know why? Because in my world, where the cooler kids hang out, you don’t matter. So I guess that explains why you couldn’t help yourself, why you had to anonymously threaten to “kill my balls” (ed. note: I actually love that one, I’ve used it to threaten people since) but really Ricky, is this the sort of attention you were hoping for? You wanted me to let people know that the IP address for your computer is:
A couple of times he was on this machine:

See what happens when you get sloppy and leave a trail for me to follow? Really Ricky, for a supposed college graduate you’d think that a: You wouldn’t see a video of a car commercial where a cat gets killed and think it’s a real cat and b: You’d think you would be better at covering all your tracks on-line. Of course I would never do it, but there’s a chance now that your IP has been made public that some HIV+ fag with a free afternoon might hack your box and frag your system. Oh well, these things happen when you’re an evil little fuck. Hopefully, you weren’t using a friends PC or they may be fucked just from knowing you. Although I suspect they already are. I guess now would be a good time to publish your e-mail address in case other people want to drop in and say how much they appreciate the love you’re spreading all over the ‘net. If you want to reach Ricky you can e-mail him at this address:

Originally, I was going to invite a response from you Ricky but the truth is, I really don’t care what you think or how you feel about anything. I have no intention of giving you a forum to spew your venom or lash out at the world because you’re being consumed by anger at the life you’ve been dealt. I intend to ignore whatever you have to say about this or any subject, however, I must warn you, if I discover that you are sending threatening or insulting messages to me again I will take further steps to ensure you pay the price. If I can offer some advice, maybe you don’t need to focus on your pathetic little life. Not when you can focus on the fact that you’re fat, you’re covered in unmanageable back hair, you live in a fantasy world where you seriously repeatedly overestimate your importance in this one, and you present yourself as a bitter evil loathsome creature …. did I mention you were fat?

See you at The Cock... Suckah…..

Have a nice day, Ricky.