So I’m no stranger to threats, especially as the blog has gotten more readers. Idiots are everywhere, and lonely, weak, sad little men who want to feel powerful by inciting fear will always exist. Fortunately for me, fear is not an emotion I’m on familiar terms with. It’s a lucky side effect of the emotional constipation thing.
The most annoying thing about these sad little men is how unoriginal they are. I mean, it’s all the same. Mostly just threats to rape me, with a few murder threats and threats against my family thrown in for good measure.
Is no one capable of creativity anymore? I mean, why can’t I get an email threatening to disembowel me with a spoon, skin me, and wear my face like a mask while they jerk off? At least that would be entertaining.
Why is rape the one thing all these men think would affect me? News flash, little boys: that’s nothing new. Been there, done that, got the Tshirt.
I mean, gasp! You mean you’ll (attempt to) have sex with me for a whole two minutes, maybe knock me around a bit? Oh, be still my fluttering heart! Whatever will I do?
Seriously? You think a little pain or a slight case of death scares me? You think a bad day is enough to ruin my life or make me run screaming into the night?
These people have too damn much time on their hands, man.
And usually, once they realize that they don’t scare me, they crawl off with their tails between their legs, probably to turn their attention to some other woman on the internet, because they can’t get attention from the women in their real lives, and their too cowardly to speak to women that way to their faces.
The poor dears.
One has been persistent, though. As in, since July of last year. And now I know what the people who interview Trump must feel.
“Mr. Trump, you said such-and-such a few months ago.”
“No, I never said that.”
“We literally have video footage of you saying exactly that. Like, we have it here. I can show it to you.”
“Nope. Wrong. Never said that.”
That’s the way this guy is. I keep making it clear that he doesn’t frighten me, and that he’s wasting his time, and he keeps coming back with “Nope. Wrong. I’m totally scaring you. You’re quivering with fear.”
It started the way most of my threats start. His first messages were polite-ish, asking to serve me online. When I rejected him, he drank the entire asshole potion and turned into Hyde, and is so proud of himself for his repeated threats and his refusal to just crawl away like everyone else.
So you know what? I’m done being polite.
Those are screenshots of some of his most recent emails up there, with the email address he sent them from. I’m sure it’s a sock puppet email, but he’s also sent me email from firstname.lastname@example.org, and says he’s a doctor, and that his name is Robben. Now, this isn’t true, he’s told others that his name is Ronald (and that he’s a doctor, that seems to be his favorite alias), and he’s claimed to live in a great number of places inside and out of the US.
He’s claimed to record people, watch people, and I’m hardly the first he’s threatened to rape. He’s been doing this since at least 2014, and Miss Pearl posted about him back then.
So he’s used email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org, and his twitter is @drronald777. Anyone who wants to harass the fuck out of him is more than welcome.
And I’ll just keep posting every new email address he uses, so y’all can light that the fuck up, too. I’d greatly appreciate the help.
Because he’s too much of a pathetic bitch to comment on the blog, he knows he’ll be called out by people who aren’t sad and lonely. That’s why he sticks to emails, where he can pretend to be the big manly man in private.
This guy insists that he lives near me, and has been watching me, waiting for the opportunity to rape me (although if he really does live close, and really has been watching me, the least the guy could do is send me some wine or something, or tell me if my hair doesn’t look good on a particular day. I mean damn, help a sister out, man).
So you know what, Robben/Ronald/whatever your name actually is? You want to know when I’m available? How does Thursday at 3pm work for you? If you’ve been watching me, you know where I live, and you’re familiar with my side of town. There’s a big warehouse that just got finished not too far from me. No one is using it yet, and the construction crews are gone. Plenty of secluded space there.
I’ve already got a sitter, so you’ll have my complete attention. Congratulations.
If you’re not a pathetic loser, then show up. Come at me, bro. Bring everything you’ve got.
Prove to me you’re not a worthless coward and comment here, publicly, so everyone can see (because you know I’m just going to post screenshots of every email you send me, anyway). Do that, and I’ll give you the exact address of the place where you think you’ll be able to rape me.
But we both know you won’t. Because 1) you’re a liar and are nowhere near me, 2) you’re a coward who won’t comment publicly and risk being called out by others, and 3) you’re a coward who would piss himself if standing in front of me.
And when you don’t comment for the address, and don’t show up, it’ll just prove that you’re a sniveling, pathetic excuse of a man who lives in his mom’s basement and trolls people online because he’s sad and lonely. Like a little chihuahua who yips at the intruder, but then cries and hides when the intruder gets too close.
Robben, dear, you don’t scare me. Even on the offchance you’re telling the truth, you don’t scare me. There is literally one thing that scares me, and sweetheart, you’re not it. And nothing you could do to me, or any of my family, is it. You have no power here.
And from now on, I will not answer your emails anymore. They’ll all be ignored. All I’ll do is screenshot them and post them here, along with every email address you use. If you want me to actually talk to you, or acknowledge your existence in any way, you’re going to have to comment here. Publicly. For everyone to see. Because if you don’t, you’ll just prove I’m right, that you’re a pathetic, stupid, ball-less coward, and you’re not worth the time it takes to insult you.
You can do the Trump thing and shout “Wrong” all you want, but it doesn’t change the truth. Go threaten someone else. You’re unoriginal, and tedious, and weak, and small.
The truth is you’re pathetic, and I feel sorry for you.