Noun:

1. A person who stealthily hunts or pursues an animal or another person.
2. A person who harasses or persecutes someone with unwanted and obsessive attention.

1. You continually harass me and bother me with your desperate, pathetic attentions despite the fact that you’re well aware that I think you’re a disgusting piece of shit because I have told you this bluntly on many occasions
2. You are obsessively and unhealthily drawn to visit my page hundreds of times and follow every detail of my life and become emotionally involved/jealous of things that happen to me or that I do when all you’ve ever received from me are endless insults and scorn
3. You do childish, insipid, creepy psycho shit like Photoshopping yourself into pictures with me and lamely pretending like we know each other or have any connection whatsoever
4. You have other friends and fake accounts set up to “spy” on me and my activities because you’re desperate and pathetic and have no life and a face that looks like a wet paper bag.
5. You continually try to find out where I live, and other personal information.

AKA, like this fucking dork.

Clearly he is an excellent digital artists.  I stand impressed, nay, humbled before such displays of skill.

While I have to admit that I find it patently hilarious to imagine this AIDS-faced loser taking pictures of himself kissing empty air because he’s planning on Photoshopping himself into pictures of me with gay bullshit like dragons and lens flares (and wtf is that 2nd one, a club that neither of us was at?  I love how his faggoty attempt at romance just makes me look like I was being an asshole to him anyway), I genuinely don’t understand how someone can be this ludicrously pathetic and not just throw themselves off a cliff in a fit of despair.

Yeah, he prints out pictures of me and hangs them in Ikea, then poses with them. The guy’s name is Ronny Neidhardt (also goes by Graf Ronny Neidhardt von Leuchtenberg in a bid to sound important) and he lives in Germany.  He thinks he’s some kind of gothic overlord now, but this was him in high school:

Anyway, this goatfucker, whose Facebook you can see here, actually was crazy enough to recruit this sad local slag named Morgan-Jolie Reemes (aka CottageKitty) to befriend me on Facebook and send him all of my private posts (update: she deleted her Facebook since I linked her, but you can find her old MySpace here and her old Livejournal here if you’re up for a really boring read…she has no pix more recent than 2008 or so, but this is the lantern-jawed hoochie slag.  You assholes wanna stalk?  That shit can go both ways).  She sent him email after email, pasting him everything I said on Facebook though none of it had anything to do with him, and alternately telling him how amazing and gorgeous I was and how fucked up I am and I’d only hurt his poor dessicated little heart….as though I even know this fucker in the first place.  Apparently he has this whacked-out sob story that involves us…I don’t know, having some kind of romantic connection?  Whatever.  I figured it out and busted her, and she sent me a long insane rambling email in response and told me that I should feel thankful to her for helping this gothic crackbaby stalk me because he loves me or whatever and obviously I have a problem if I do not return that love.  Verily!  I call that ‘taste’, but she calls that ‘a problem’.  Tomatoe, tomahto.  Sucks being a fug crippled parasite bitch with no skills who lost custody of your kid and is married to some dude 25 years older than you because you can’t support yourself, and Skype-sexing some scrawny foreign dork and getting involved in his fake life because his fake bullshit is still more interesting than your complete lack of anything worthwhile, I guess!  And then getting jealous and weird over it because he’s obsessed with me more than you?  WTF.  Oh, and apparently he sent me “thousands of dollars worth of gifts” to me magically without even knowing where I live…and of course it wasn’t trackable or insured or anything.  And he could sue me for posting his lulzy pictures of ME that he Photoshopped, btw, because that makes them “his art”.  RIIIIIIGHT.  Spoken like a true stay at home useless pile of shit that never amounted to anything more than being a truck driver.  Dismissed.

By the way, if this jackass does have a friend in SF that’s helping him stalk me like both he and she have said – you better fucking pray to baby lord jesus that I never find out who you are.

There’s few things in the world more wrong than a woman who helps a psycho stalk another woman.  You have got to be one seriously sad puddle of stank cunt pus to be pulling that kinda shit on a fellow girl.  I don’t go in with that whole ‘female solidarity’ thing as a general rule, but some shit you just don’t help guys do…like STALKING.  ”You should be thanking me for helping some guy you don’t know stalk you from thousands of miles away even though you find him completely disgusting and he has a face that resembles the petrified left testicle of a Stegosaurus” is eerily close to the same kind of logic some fucked up mothers use when they let their boyfriends molest their children.  It’s love, right?  You should be THANKFUL.  You DESERVE IT.  Someone shoot both of these assholes in the face.  Even funnier?  This bitch is fucking MARRIED and has a TEENAGE SON.  Get off my god damned internet and remember to cut lengthwise, not across.

Anyway before anyone starts telling me to “just ignore” this master of a thousand fleas, keep in mind that this has been going on since I lived in Italy.  Which would be 2007.  I HAVE ignored him, for YEARS.  I have insulted him in every conceivable way.  I have asked him (relatively) nicely to leave me the fuck alone.  IT DOES NOT WORK.  That’s the nature of a real stalker.  If this grimy pig’s asshole was local I’d have gone and visited him with a couple of friends (probably my female friends, since the guy looks like he weighs a buck twenty at most) and beaten his goddamned face in by now.  That’s what people like this need – a serious asskicking resulting in hospitalization and major reconstructive surgery.  THAT is when they start to get the message that they’re unwanted emotional abortions, and not before.

The guy is still trying to figure out where I live, which is hilarious.  Seriously, bring it on, dude.  I have a machete that has a date with your face, you gross little pansy boyfucker.