Wasn't kidding; I actually need firewood. What do I look like to you -- a lumberjack? I might be "okay," but I'm pretty fuckin' far from hauling an entire woodshed's worth of wood by myself. D'uh. This isn't a euphemism, I like the smell of murdered, burning trees in the morning. So, I want --a lot.--
Knowing as I did that Mr. Drug Psychosis would assume that I was looking to him to supply me with his duly-authorized goodies -- can you believe this fuckhead made her bring paraphernalia with her? On a plane? After 9/11 Labor Day? What a pair nincompoops -- I deliberately sent him that message, just to see what he would do.
Assume I'm looking for illicit drugs, huh? Well, nice try, Fuck-0, as I am actually looking to score just firewood. (Hopefully wood that won't release white-man-killin'-fungal-spores when I burn it, you dig?) I don't even want -illicit, tax-free- firewood! I'm just looking for someone who knows what the fuck is going on! I thought he might have... you know, insight, since the fucking cunt has been surveiling me for at least eight fucking years. (Hi Bomar! Go Bearcows.)
So his reponse... which was then posted on his own forum by himself... well, wow, what the fuck? Did he see a ghost? Was it actually The Casper? Rubini is a pretty big deal on this plane of reality, it just could be. Did he try to intimidate, exploit, harrass, blackmail, extort, & sexually assault and abuse him? Rubini is a pretty tough cookie, hard to crack back on unless he's pisson a sheet of molbydenum alloy, but... damn, that Casper, he be a real horndog. I guess.
Well played, you paranoid psycho. /kudos
