Hey, all you tormented people out there, it doesn't have to be like this.  Sign petitions, you're just pissing into the wind.  Who's gonna read them? Nobody who gives a fuck.  Move to Florida or Texas and arm up.  Fight back.  You wanna die in a puddle of your own shit?  I thought not.  You have alternatives.  There is no such thing  as "safe houses."  That just concentrates the targets into one compact mass.  You gotta fight if you want to live.  You're on your own.  It's not easy.  It sure as hell hasn't been easy for me, shit's been going on for 34 years, but here I am, my middle finger salute standing tall.  Yeah, I know all about pain.  I can't sleep.  I can't eat.  I drink beer and smoke cigars and I will grab a few winks when I can, thanks to trazadone.  Get four hours and wake up and take another one. Sleep for two hours more.

Yeah, I'm tired, but I'm not too tired to write.  Not too tired to urge you onwards, not too tired to urge you to fight and keep on fighting.

God loves warriors.

And, hopefully, He loves nasty old bastards who smoke too many cigars and drink too much beer. And who packs a .45 and hunts stalkers.

That's me.

Never quit.

Never, ever quit.