Mr. Mooser's Neighborhood
This is just a fraction of the information I've been able to dig up with a cursory effort on my newest stalker, Mr. Mooser. I could do the humane thing and just give Sarah Palin the exact GPS coordinates of his house so she can pay him a visit on one of her wolf shooting helicopters or I could be really inhumane and just reveal everything I've found out about him. (More at the bottom.)
RESULTS FOUND: 2
Lookup results for 18.104.22.168 from whois.lacnic.net server:
NetRange: 22.214.171.124 - 126.96.36.199
NetType: Direct Allocation
OrgName: Worldlink, Inc.
Address: 1300 SW 7th St
Address: Suite 112
OrgAbuseName: xxxxxx, xxxx
OrgTechName: xxxxxx, xxxx
Now moose, old buddy, you seem to like to kick people who are down, to point your finger at them and laugh, "Ha, ha!" from the safe anonymous shadows of the sidelines like some over-the-hill Nelson Muntz. But the fact is, Moose, that nothing and nobody is anonymous and despite the treasure trove of information I've already gleaned, I still haven't had to fork over even so much as a red cent to get even more personal and specific information, such as the other, seamier websites you troll when you're not obsessing over me. If I wanted to invest that kind of time, effort and money on you, I could discover what brand of tissues you use after you finish short-stroking yourself in the wake of one obsessive/compulsive internet spelunking or another.
Push me to that and I will do just that. But first, before I continue data-mining the information you've so thoughtfully provided (Don't forget, sport, this is what I do for a living. I don't give just commentary), let me tell you what it's like from my side of the tracks, the side that you like to sneer at with such easy disdain.
I am not as ashamed of myself for my inability to find a job as you suppose I should be. While it's always angering and frustrating, I do not feel shame because I know I'm doing my level-headed best to find a job both online and in the real world. In the good old days, before your three piece superheroes George W. Bush and his corporate lounge lizards on Wall Street thoroughly sledgehammered this economy, I was usually able to find a job within weeks, if not days, after leaving my old one.
The fact that I've been unemployed for close to 35 months should not be held against me because sometime in the last decade something very evil happened to this country, an evil that, if viewed through the proper prism, puts the kibosh on the old libertarian myth that every person is in complete control of their destiny. That only applies to those who have a vast fortune to force destiny to their will. The rest of us are just forgotten flotsam and jetsam, wreckage of previous, happier lives after it hit the iceberg into which Bush and his cronies steered us.
You think it's funny when a man remains unemployed after being able to secure employment with relative ease for the first 25-30 years of his working life, you like to laugh at the man when he's down and troll his every blog post and to try to make funnies (and failing miserably. Trust me, Moosie, leave the jokes to me. I used to sell jokes to the late Rodney Dangerfield when I was a mere stripling of 19 and think of what I can do to you now that I'm 34 years older and wiser).
I almost (the operative word here being almost) pity you for not being privy to the warmth that comes to my heart when one reader and/or friend or another donates something to our little cause and to help stave off eviction a little bit longer. Thanks to these kind-hearted and generous friends, I stay caught up on my bills and am allowed to continue contributing to the economy as I am accustomed. That's what it means to be an Altruist and a liberal: Knowing that others will pick you up when you are down and earning their trust that you will do the same when you're on your feet. Right wingers will never know that sense of humanity and community because you'd rather adopt a more selfish, Randian mindset of "Fuck everyone but me and my own and if it comes down to it, fuck everybody but me."
You are a little malcontent who is wasting precious hours of his life that he'll never get back (not that I think you'd use them any more wisely even if you were entitled to such a temporal refund) trying ineffectually to mock the gifts of a writer as an ant would try to mock the sole of a man's shoe. If you have been spared being crushed, it's only through sheer luck, that perhaps you were spared oblivion thanks to a deep sole tread.
But this is your legacy, to mock those you've never met and never will meet from the relative safety of distance and a presumed anonymity. Before, when you began writing your usually rejected comments tonight, you were merely irksome. But as they continued streaming in, I decided that for the moment, you were worth the time to smite in one way or another. I have so honored you and will continue to do so after I post this when I write to your ISP administrator, xxxx xxxxxx, at the email address you have so thoughtfully, albeit indirectly and inadvertently, provided me (and the information above was current as of today).
Just as the Rude Pundit's idea of Hell for Andrew Breitbart was to be locked in a steel box with no audience, so I will visit Hell on you by getting your ISP and internet connection revoked for constant harassment and online stalking. I will provide a list of all your comments from tonight (complete with all headers proving they originated from your little hovel off 38th Ave. and 77th Street), and I will let Mr. xxxxxx make a determination as his wisdom sees fit.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a letter to write.