The last three emails from Greg G have emanated from a proxy server in Alaska.  Guess he got tired of people emailing him back and calling him an asshole.

Haven't felt much like writing lately.  Have been a bit under the weather, and have also spent less time on the Net, catching up on my reading.

The turdbreath who lives across the street at 940 King's Mountain Road, DeLand, FL, 32720, USA has been engaging in minor sabotage lately.  Sometime during the last couple of weeks, he entered my house, which is, of course, a felony, breaking and entering, and stole of all things, a plastic bottle of Hershey's Chocolate Syrup.  He also punched a small hole in the bottom of a bag of sugar that was located in the same cabinet.  He can't help it.  He's a true psychopath.  If I ever catch him in my house, I will empty my .45 into him.  Two rounds should do it, but seven or eight will do it better.

What a pussy.

Almost shot a stalker today.  He snuck up on me in his truck while I was walking my dog, stopped behind me, tooted his little horn and took off.  I had my hand on my .357 magnum revolver in my pocket, but did not fire on him simply because I would have been firing across a divided road.  When one targets someone, one gets tunnel vision momentarily as your entire psyche is devoted to making a kill shot with the first bullet, and I was concerned that a passing car might have driven into my line of fire that would have momentarily been out of my visual field. I was quite concerned that he might have been holding a firearm in his lap out of sight. I will be a bit more cautions from now on and swivel-neck a bit before drawing and firing, but I will shoot that mother fucker in his pitiful head if he ever tries it again.  So you are on notice, asshole.  Stalk me and you will very likely die.