I found this amusing post amid the swill over in Smurfland and thought I'd tell a little story. Seems that among his other delusions, when Ziggy isn't stalking escorts, he's battling, among other things, a Napoleonic complex.
Ziggy the Clown said:
That being said, would gugu like to see my collection of threats I'm receiving on a regular basis since 2006, shortly after I went to the front against we all know who on behalf of the ungrateful and backstabber Rumpleforsekiin, formerly known as regnaD, who was too scared to do the job himself?
I have all of these kept on an external drive which I update monthly with copies sitting at my lawyers office.
And you think I'm only talking about internet threats? Let's not even go there. At some point I had to hire a professional to watch my back, that's how bad it got. Thank you Rumples, your friendship was really worth the trouble. I shall forever be grateful to you. Fuck off, prick!
A number of years back, I took a little cross country trip with a young lady from an agency in Montreal. We had fun and decided to take an even longer trip, only this time she picked the location and we made our plans. Shortly before embarking, she had a date with Ziggy, who thought she'd be quite happy if he paid her with an IOU. (Only Ziggy. LOL) To no one else's surprise but his, the poor megalomaniacal fool, she wouldn't accept and stormed out of the room. Being a man of very little common sense, Ziggy the Clown wrote a review of the evening, creating quite a brouhaha on this very board.
A week or so later, the young woman and I departed this fair island for a much larger one out west and, while the local sex trade was, by agreement, not to be a part of our conversation, she did one evening bring up the subject asking me if I'd seen Ziggy's sorry attempt at self-apologia. I confirmed that I had and after returning home, I contacted him and assisted in patching things up between Ziggy, the young woman and the agency. Foolishly, I befriended Ziggy, a man sorely in need of friends.
The young woman retired shortly thereafter and, sensing a life in crisis, I adopted her, so to speak, becoming more or less an uncle to this person who has no family of her own. Ziggy and I would discuss her frequently, talking frankly about what was not an easy friendship to maintain, given her volatility. I was appreciative of Ziggy's counsel, which I'm now being informed led to a collection of threats, mostly from the monster in his closet.
The "front" mentions is a pint of beer at a local brewpub in the Plateau. The files he refers to "on a hard drive at his lawyer's office" is in fact a stack of scripts on his therapist's desk. And the professional he's hired to watch his back is his psychotherapist, a man clearly in way over his head with this nutcase.
What I'm now left wondering is what this poor clown is going to do with himself once Tom's gotten his full use of Ziggy's performance. Certainly, a poor an actor as he is, there's no future for him on the stage.
As for the young woman in the story, I'm happy to report that she's in a much better place in her life.