Yet another shitty morning

It turns out that Jerry Conlon didn’t threaten me when he said maybe a vial of acid would do me some good. No, it turns out I threatened him. A friend sent me this screen shot from the mildew pit.

 

I don’t know who it was who posted the comment with some biographical information about Jerry Conlon; it was someone who has never commented here before. The comment was a peculiar kind of “doxxing” since Jerry Conlon had used the name Jerry Conlon himself on that threat (or “joke”) and since there was no address or phone number.

Given the first-timeness of the commenter, I suspect the comment was a plant. At any rate, I haven’t threatened anyone. I haven’t even threatened to report him to the police, even though a lot of people have strongly urged me to report him, because Canadian law enforcement sees that kind of thing as a danger to people in general, not just to the recipient. (And he’s Canadian. Ooh I’m doxxing him!! Except that’s on his Facebook page. Visible to all.)

I haven’t threatened anyone. He did threaten me.

I’m very very very very very tired of this shit. My life is shit, thanks to these people. That’s what they want, and they get what they want. I’m a blogger and writer, so the work I do I do online. That means taking “a break” from online isn’t a happy little vacation, it’s being locked out of the work I do. Yes no doubt it’s pathetic contemptible nerdy “work” but I like doing it, and I don’t like being forced out of it by sadistic pseudonymous shits.

But some good does come out of it. Bjarte Foshaug was motivated by the acid threat to send $150 to Canadian Women for Women in Afghanistan. He says a friend of his Sheila is also going to donate. So Jerry Conlon did some good after all!

But I want my life back. And I can’t have it. That makes me angry.