The tongue rests within the cheek no longer.

Lately I’ve been saying a lot of silly things here, because it’s fun to be silly. This time I have nothing silly to say.

Earlier tonight someone called and left a message on my phone telling me they were going to blow up my house because I bought the turntable they wanted from Audio Two.

Obviously it was a joke, delivered in a fake accent that sounded kind of like it was supposed to be Middle-Eastern. But where you would expect someone to say, “Haha, it’s me…here’s my real voice so you know who I am…give me a call back,” this person just hung up without revealing who they were or dropping the act.

At first I just thought it was weird. Then it started to piss me off.

I haven’t said much about this here outside of dropping a few vague hints that something messed-up happened, but back in October two guys broke into my house and made it clear they intended to rape and kill me. Whoever left this message probably knows that. I mean, it was in the newspaper, even if the idiot writer got most of the details wrong. And yet here they are “joking” about how they’re going to blow up my house, after my sense of security and wellbeing in my home was obliterated by two drug-hungry fucks who should have died in the womb from umbilical cord strangulation at the moment they thought they were going to be born.

I can’t for the life of me place the voice or figure out who would make a joke like this. But whoever left the message, they must read this blog at least once in a while. Otherwise I’m not sure how they would know where I bought my turntable from, or that I bought one at all.

So, jokester, this is directed at you:

You’re lucky your number showed up as “private” and I don’t know who you are. Otherwise I would give some serious thought to having you criminally charged with uttering threats. I don’t care that you think it’s a joke. You try having two guys break into your house and scream at you about how they’re going to shoot you and fuck you up the ass because you supposedly slept with some girl you don’t even know (difficult to do when you’re a virgin), try dealing with PTSD in the aftermath of that fun experience and thinking you’re going to die of a stroke or heart attack while experiencing daily panic attacks, and then see how amused you are when someone anonymously leaves a voice mail message telling you they’re going to kill you a few months down the road.

Whoever you are, you’re no friend of mine. But I hope you got a good laugh out of your little joke.

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