Monday, April 16, 2007

busy day

This is it for me, at least until I come up with more proof that I feel like sharing with the world. Readers should check out Janna St. James's blog [ed. note - I removed the link, I won't be party to that, all she wants is attention attention attention], she's still pretending she's the victim. She may be feeling victimized, but for all the crap she's pulled, she's got a long way before she gets to have victim status awarded to her. If ever.

For those Fogelberg fans who were victims of Janna's perfidy, I feel for every single one of you. I don't know how long she strung you along, she hooked me for close to two years. She's good at what she does as long as she's got believers, not so good at covering her tracks when she doesn't. One might say that, like the Ted Bundy she never interviewed, she left little clues because she wanted to get caught. I'm getting lots of questions answered now, but I'm still planning on hitting Aspen (and points south, it appears) to find out more. Time to take a road trip.

Till then, read Janna's blog, if she dares post any further. And she appears to have opened up her comments again, so why not tell her what you think? I did. And just in case she deletes it, here ya go, my response to her "poor victimized me" whining:

Hmmm, are you saying you're not a lying sack of shit?


Always playing the victim, eh, Janna? God forbid your life ever becomes a vibrant color, because in your life, even beige is evil. Imagine what could happen if you introduce some red.

Why are you frightened? Because people you fucked over are angry with you? Because your lies are all being turned over, inspected, and revealed, one by one? Because your previous fuck-over-ees are coming out of the woodwork and helping me fit pieces of your screwed-up puzzle?

Maybe you should've thought about that before you started your destructive charade.

No kidding you love to write. You wrote thousands of emails in the year you were "Jesse" and all his satellites. When I talked to the fella at the Denver AP office, I told him that although you'd never been employed by them, they might want to think about hiring you, if they need any fiction writing.

And for the record, I don't give a rat's ass if you're alive. I don't want to see you dead, you ridiculous drama queen. I just don't want you fucking up anyone else's life again, ever, and if that means taking an ad out in the Batavia Sun so that your community knows what you are, I can do that.

I'd still prefer an admission of guilt from you, along with proof that you're getting professional help. Failing that, I can promise you I have people working toward making sure that everyone you know, knows who and what you are.

Please note, I'm not anonymous. I don't need to hide behind fake identities to tell you what I think.

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