When Pat the Rat was working really hard to set me up as a geriatric domestic terrorist, I used to fantasize about grabbing a rifle and splattering his big thick skull into a pink mist.  I knew in my heart of hearts that the better plan was simply to wait on natural events to take their course, and they have.

I have never yet killed anyone and I hope to leave this life without ever having to do so.  That does not change the indisputable fact, however, that I will put  two .45 slugs into a stalker's head if I am in fear for my life or of suffering great bodily harm. Even a stalker's sidelong glance just might qualify.

But patience was the correct choice.  Watching that big stupid fucktard being rolled out of his house and into an ambulance this afternoon, I must admit, gave me great satisfaction.  All things come to he who waits.

This is one hell of a fine 71st birthday present...