Here's a tip, lunatics, you need followers in order to communicate information to anyone on that site.
Otherwise you're, basically, speaking to yourselves.
Also, what's up with you contacting me after all this time? I'm a little confused as to why you would want to do that, since I've made it expressly clear that I do not want anything more to do with you at all, ever. I'll let the fact that I already sent this request via email to Cuntessa last year go for now.
The two of you need to find something better to do with your time besides come up with ill-willed schemes against me. First of all, you look like complete assholes when you act this way. Second of all, well, first of all would be enough, if only I could be dealing with rational people.
Apparently, I'm not.
PLEASE TAKE NOTE of what I have expressed in writing here, by email, voice conversations and, not once, but TWICE on twitter: STAY OUT OF MY LIFE, permanently. Get me?
Drunktard's second twitter account was most likely set up with Cuntessa's participation, since I blocked both of them immediately after she broke into my timeline, uninvited and, out of the blue, a few months back. Sadly, I was her only follower.
Neither one of them use twitter, yet all of a sudden drunktard needs a brand, spanking new account? What was wrong with the old ghost town? I'm sure you had no issue with my privacy block, right? I mean, you can still see me, if you must, by going straight to my twitter url, while not signed in, just like anyone else online.
Why the second account? It definitely wasn't created in violation of my request for no contact, right? You wouldn't do that, now would you? S-U-R-E you wouldn't!
Let's see if it happens again, which I really pray it doesn't. I've got better things to do with my time. I'm sorry you don't.
*Thanks A Bunch*
The fact of the matter is that absolutely nobody is interested in what they have to say, aside from themselves.
And, I must say, this is quite hysterical to me, since I am a successful writer, blogger and social media EXPERT. No matter that they tried to destroy me, since I will always be bigger, better and infinitely more brilliant than they could ever fathom!
Envy is an ugly beast.
If I were them, I would be jealous, too.
In spite of all these idiots have done in an effort to hurt me, I've always prevailed because I take after my extended family whom are educated, intelligent, classy, hard-working, successful people.
I'm glad my Grammy never saw my brother as he is today, she would be horrified!
It's unfortunate that Cuntessa and the drunktard weren't able to contain their limited world views long enough to, at least, benefit from my eminent success in some way. So sad. Well, at least they have each other to collaborate their fantasies.
Just as my mother conned the V.A. thirty years after she served six months into a full pension (for nothing), she is now saying that my drug use was the reason she stole all my belongings and tossed me into the streets of Vegas to die.
As I've said before, I wish there was any decent explanation for what she did to me, aside from greed and hate.
Delusions of grandeur are par for the course in my immediate family. With that in mind, I'd like to take a moment to paint an accurate picture of my unfortunate lineage, just to clarify the audacity I was stifled under most of my life. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, get a load of this crap!
My "brother" begins every day with at least two beers, then continues to drink well beyond his limits to the point of retardation. He's been doing this since he left high school, hence his nickname, "DRUNKTARD." Believe me, he's earned it.
In addition to drinking himself silly every single day, he also smokes pot and has an affinity for hallucinogens. He assumes he's better than me because he never got into "hard drugs," like I have.
Although he says he's tried, but never used stimulants, I'm pretty sure that the term "hard drug" classifies anything other than marijuana. So. That would mean he uses OTHER hard drugs. Um. Whatev.
He's been arrested a few times, yet he's never been caught doing anything serious. My guess is that the universe knows he wouldn't be able to handle a well deserved consequence for his actions; however, a pass doesn't make him "better" than me, he has been lucky.
As for my "mother," I gotta give credit where it's due: SHE TAUGHT ME HOW TO GET HIGH by doing it in front of us kids most of the time.
Although my "mom" gets a sickening rise when she points fingers at everyone else, hers are some of the guiltiest!
I'll never forget all the times I was the joint passer for her and her friends, even as a little, tiny kid. Nor can I shake the memory of that one time when I woke from a nap on one of too many cross-country moves to witness her snorting lines of cocaine from the open glove compartment. I was nine years old.
To this day, I recall the vile feeling I had in my gut when I found her loser boyfriend's drug kit in his stuff, complete with hypodermic needles and tubes to tie off with. No, he was not diabetic, just some pathetic i.v. user she picked up during a fantasy island trip. I was thirteen and scared to death of the guy who came in and out of our lives like the wind. I'm pretty sure she married that one. It's hard to keep track.
Something else I wonder is what my childhood friends' parents would think about my mother chowing down mushrooms in the car, whilst driving their children, my brother and myself to the roller-skating rink we went to every Sunday. My mom would move and dance just like the kids, who always said "your mom is so cool!" I never ratted her out, but my heart ached for the fact that my "mom" was NEVER COOL. She was always HIGH.
The worst part about a "mother" who gets high was the intense fear her actions instilled in me that she could be arrested at any moment, after I learned about drugs in second grade. It was horrible. Really fucking horrible.
Pot became a part of my life at fourteen. My first toke came from the drug stash in my mom's jewelry box, where I'd also find cocaine, mushrooms, and/or L.S.D. on any given day.
The matriarch of destruction was mighty pissed when she learned that I was smoking pot in high school without her, as she made me promise to do, when/if I ever decided to try it. She was even more pissed when she realized that I smoked her stash with my friends.
My penance for that one was forty dollars cash for the weed; a small price to pay to avoid anything to do with my "mom," especially getting high! Talk about a total buzz kill!
Cuntessa's latest drug cocktail is a mixture of ninety milligrams of morphine a day, Attivan, high grade marijuana and, God knows what else?
One of the major differences between my "mom," "brother," and I is that I have, at least, given my body a break from substance abuse for several years at a time throughout my life, while they've partied on. Perhaps this has something to do with their utter lack of basic common sense?
The only tweet I caught from the drunktard the other day was #meth, with something about #truth. I'm guessing that was his way of, what, exposing me? Um...yeah. Not like I haven't already spilled every single ugly bean, but Go-Go on with your simple self!
Go-Go Rach was on meth!
Feel free to run with it, "mom" and "brother."
Everyone will be so shocked! I bet you'll get famous and become talented, hard-working geniuses with a blog so incredibly amazing that you can boast close to ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND HITS in no time, just like me.
And, you'll get to be...even more lame than you are right now.
You don't have access to anyone, let alone EVERYONE.
You mean absolutely nothing to anybody, aside from yourselves and your limited circle of wasted friends.
Oh, one more thing, there are some major holes in your latest FABLE: I was one hundred percent penniless, without any desire to do anything, aside from work on building this empire. I rarely left the house...I could go on and on with insidiousness, but I'm already bored.
As I thought I've made crystal clear, I could care less about what either of you think, say or do. Please, just stay the fuck away from me.
In my mind, you are DEAD. Gone. Out of my life forever.
It's been three years since I left you in my dust.
Why don't you get it?
Is it your life-long substance abuse?
One more time, I will write this in SIMPLE ENGLISH: Leave me alone. I do not want to see you, hear from you or have anything to do with you at all, EVER.
Do not try to contact me in person or online again.
Number one: I despise you both.
Number two: Nobody gives a shit about you or what you think or say about me, especially ME.
You can make as many feeble attempts to cling to my coat tails as you want; however, the bottom line is this:
*I AM THE ONLY PRODIGY* in your pathetic excuse for a "family."
Also, please keep in mind that what you've done to me is grand larceny. I made a decision a long time ago to let you have my things, since you could never, ever experience the wonders I will always enjoy, including gorgeous, expensive STUFF. Additionally, I never want to lay eyes on either one of you again, so KEEP IT.
My hope is that everything I used to own will satisfy your greed enough to spare somebody else down the road from another one of your con jobs.
Finally, I must say that it's been interesting to hear you call me a user, since I am the only victim here.
News Flash: You gotta have something to offer in order to be used.
Take a look around your home.
What do you see?
In fact, I bet you're reading this post from the leather office chair you stole from me. Isn't it comfy?
And, for the love of God, please leave me alone, in peace, to recover from the one thing I've always been able to count on from both of you: ABUSE, TRAUMA, SABOTAGE and MISERY.
WHAT PART OF GO FUCK YOURSELF DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?
Until Next Time,
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