Archives for posts with tag: IP address

blue-haired-troll

 

Living in LA.  Driving everywhere.  One learns a great deal about the human condition.  How brave those with no real strength, a fragile old lady for instance, becomes in her SUV.

Hiding behind the wheel of her huge (and not so huge) car she can charge at other cars like a wild bull, she can intimidate like a boxer facing off before the big fight, she can insult anyone she pleases like a street drunk after midnight.   Stop at a stop light however and scream at her in the real world for her appalling behavior, stripped of her super powers… she apologizes, looks horrified.

We delude ourselves that we are protected by our big car… or the anonymity of the internet.

The internet.  From time to time… the hating trolls can’t help themselves.  In their haste to leave vile, anonymous messages the stupid ones forget the trail of evidence they leave behind in their rush to insult and malign.

Like a hair loaded with DNA at the murder scene… they leave behind their IP number.  The ever more accurate, location revealing IP number.

The most recent hater?  Ohaiman.  This particularly stupid troll lives on Elm Avenue in Norwood, a suburb of Cincinnati.   With Google street view I opened a window into his sad life.  I stood outside his shabby apartment building, I wondered which one of the beaten up cars parked in his parking lot was his.  I wandered dolefully up his treeless, ugly street.  I flew over his nondescript building in my google plane.

I felt like the NSA.

Not realizing that I already knew too much about him I engaged in a long conversation with Ohaiman… this vicious troll.   He had opinions about every aspect of my life.   The life of my boyfriend… apparently my bf is in the closet.  He told me who I should be dating… someone over 50.  He let me know how much money he thought I had.  There was no limit to the reach he thought he had into my life.

Can you imagine what it must be like to have real celebrity?  What chaos these trolls cause?

After he unravelled more than enough rope to hang himself… I revealed that I knew exactly where he lived.  Like rolling down my window at the stop light…   He balked.  He apologized.  He was ‘just joking’, he didn’t mean what he said.

Understandably, I haven’t heard from him since.

I don’t care what people write about me in that secret space created by the internet where foolish men believe they are the kings and the queens, ‘super users’  addicted to outrage and poorly formed opinion… mostly without consequence.

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Doctor’s office yesterday.  He wasn’t there.

The  receptionist told me with ersatz compassion that they had tried calling me.  They had tried cancelling.

She showed me the number they had for me.  She let me see the evidence.  The right digits, the wrong order.

I remembered telling the young woman who initially took my details.  I remembered her thick accent.  I knew that she didn’t understand what I was saying whilst I was saying it.

She’s not the only one.  I get things so muddled.  I can’t spell.

I mean, some words elude me…like the word ersatz.  It baffles me.

Hot coffee, very hot microwaved coffee.  It’s raining.  The dogs are staying in bed.

The boys stayed out last night.   I had a friend over.  Lit a fire.

Yesterday this mad kid (Turkish origin)  from Bel Air in Maryland left violent, racist messages on this blog.  He used to call and text.  He stopped texting and calling months ago after I threatened the police…so he sets up false Facebook accounts and tells me how he is going to kill me etc.

In his head he is best friends with Peres Hilton.

In his head he thinks he can leave anonymous notes…telling me that I am a disgusting negro lover…and not get caught.

Again, what this idiot, these morons don’t get?  They leave their IP addresses , they leave crucial evidence.  This is his:  68.55.180.249  It is linked to every email he ever sent, every message he ever wrote.

The kid is a tragic mess who needs help…but I ain’t the one to give it to him.

Robby said yesterday, after I texted some sweet note…’till death do us part’.  So I reminded him that death was probably not so far off, (more deaths of contemporaries reported in London) that he would one day organize my funeral.

“Did you get a death threat?”  he asked…

No.  Not today.

Rain forecast for the next three days.

The kid who shot all those Afghans in their own homes last week…well, he is getting a media makeover.

They say he ‘snapped’,  he was ‘drinking’,  it was his ‘third tour’.  Meanwhile whole families are dead.

Can you imagine the same excuses being made if an Afghan slaughtered an American family.  Well, he snapped, he was drinking…he couldn’t take it any more.

Could you imagine those excuses being made?

More details are ‘emerging’, more details are being manufactured so we can let this guy off the hook.

Meanwhile the tenant I had downstairs, Matty O’Neil…he has gone…leaving a disgusting mess behind him.  The boys took a whole day cleaning up after him.

You know, this kid Matty spent time in jail because of his Arab origins?  He was held in a jail after 9/11, probably held illegally by the US government…with his father when he was a young boy…yet when I suggested that his story and mine had similarities he told me imperiously, “I am an American!  There are no similarities.”

He moved out, brought a motley crew with him.  His sister, her girlfriend….his boyfriend.

The girlfriend was Chinese, the only one there with ancient Mayflower/American credentials was Matty’s boyfriend the acutely fay boy who works in the veterinary office in Malibu who Matty met on Grindr.

Deluded, the week before he left he asked me for a membership to the private club I belong to.

It made me smile.  How the American children of immigrants quickly forget the struggles of their fathers.

“I pity you.”  He said, as he was leaving.

Along with his pity he left two huge stains on the carpet, refused to pay his rent or accept responsibility for the mess…I pity his next landlord.

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