Yet another rerun

Sorry, the creative well is a little dry right now. I guess I used it up in this old post from 2006:

June 25, 2006

Die, you sick mofos

What is the difference between a crazed crack whore who breaks your windows, crawls into your house and spray paints her crazy, crackwhore shit on your walls and a fat, acne ridden, comic book reading, blowup doll fucking, dog turd eating, 40-year old loser, living in his Mom's basement with two cats that he forces to lick his milk soaked balls, asshole spammer that gets his jollies infecting your computer with viruses, dickwad?

That is the longest sentence you will ever read from this poor blog writer from the Hemingway school. Let me try again. If it is illegal to break into my house and trash it, why is it legal to send viruses that infect my computer? My kids have again infected one of my computers with a virus (actually several, only one remains) a nefarious infectious Trojan that is sunk deep in my operating system. I will get it, but I have already spent hours working on this bastid. Like the mondo worm I had before, we will have to run tool after tool to get rid of it.

Why can't we prosecute the perpetrators of these attacks? They are invading my personal property intent on destruction. What is the difference? If I broke into your car and spray painted Hillary for President on your dashboard I would be prosecuted (and probably shot). Is forcing my computer to your website any different? I find both offensive. Is breaking your window and throwing into your living room hundreds of handbills for sex houses and child porn illegal? Why is it Ok to do that to my virtual mailbox?

Here's to you Mr. Spammer, Mr. Virus sender -- rot in Hell after dying a slow painful death of a mutant form of mad cow disease you contracted by giving your neighbor's collie a blowjob. I hope your dick falls off in your Cheeto-stained fingers (assuming you can find it with a pair of jewelers tweezers). I wish you get kidney stones the size of boulders. I hope you trip going up the stairs wearing your Mom's old high heels and break your puny pencil-neck. I hope you choke on your Hot Pocket. I hope the pizza burns the roof of your mouth. I hope you hang yourself while trying that crazy autoerotic asphyxiation while jacking-off thing. I hope you get the plague from the bites of fleas living in the rolls of fat on your unwashed body. I hope you die alone -- surrounded and consumed by the hatred of the innocent people you have preyed upon.

Keep it up and I will get really pissy about this.