Reserved.

Eesh = still fucked

The following are the actual courtroom transcripts:



[ open on interior, courtroom, the Judge banging her gavel ]

Judge: Mr. Basl, are you ready to give your summation?

Basl: [ stepping out] It's just "eesh", if you please, your Honor.. and, yes, I'm ready. [ approaches the jury box ] Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I'm just a caveman. I fell on some ice and later got thawed out by some of your scientists. Your world frightens and confuses me! Sometimes the honking horns of your traffic make me want to get out of my Scion... and run off into the hills, or wherever... Sometimes when I get a message on Fairfax Underground, I wonder: "Did little demons get inside and type it?" I don't know! My primitive mind can't grasp these concepts. As you can see, I'm but a simple pauper with not a dime to his name... I'm just a caveman, your honor... VINE will attest to that fact! Look, it's printed right here on this strange, thin substance you call paper! Furthermore, it says I am a victim... and one of your strange and unfamiliar modern-day authorities which only confuse and confound my primitive caveman intellect is on record as corroborating this fact! Did tiny demons crawl inside my computer and type threatening messages to me, your honor? I don't know! I'm just a simple caveman! But this strange and confusing authority figure told me personally there was probable cause to serve a warrant for the plaintiff's arrest and therefore he is without a shred of credibility in this vexatious suit... this man you modern people call 'maj-i-strit' indicated that these possible demon-messages most likely came from him, because--LOOK--is that not the plaintiff's name signed to this odd and confounding demon-message, on this thing you modern people call paper?! Did the plaintiff in this suit (and the defendant in the case I have initiated for these messages) somehow crawl inside my simple caveman computer, bypassing my simple caveman firewall--and use an overseas proxy to threaten me? I don't know! I'm but a simple, poor caveman, going to college to study computer security and technology... I know nothing of your modern world!"


[Basl pauses deliberately and begins pacing slowly, hands folded behind his back, thoughtfully furrowing his pronounced caveman brow; he continues...]


"...But there is one thing I do know - I have NEVER used a proxy server or TOR in order to reroute illegal online communications directed towards the plaintiff in this case... what is a proxy? Is it some strange kind of mammoth? A sun god? I am confounded and confused by these issues, your honor. Therefore, as an obvious persecuted victim of these modern, rich, computer-savvy people, I ask you place sanctions on them and issue me no less than 10,000 of your modern units of currency, so that I may upgrade my desktop operating system and purchase a new laptop, as it has likely been corrupted by some strange and confusing virus due to this entire ordeal. I move not only to quash this vexatious suit, but on top of my requests for restitution, that (because I am but a simple caveman, representing myself, and know nothing of your modern legal system) the entire family filing this frivolous, vexatious, outrageous suit be thrown in jail for life. I have spoken to many of what you modern people call 'police men', and they all believe and trust me, as I am a credible and upstanding citizen who has only but once driven over 100 miles in one of your modern contraptions known as a 'car' to leave a threatening note on the plaintiff's property. But... your honor... I mean... come on! [Basl looks around, arms outstretched, drinking in the judge and jury's support and sympathy] And of course, I have used my simple caveman computer to state on multiple occasions an intent to stalk the party filing suit... but again... come on! I'm but a simple caveman. I slipped and fell in some ice thousands of years ago... I know nothing of your modern world, or proxy servers, or anonymizing services, or phishing, or VPN, or IP trackers, or IP spoofing, or TOR, or keylogging, or source code, or firearms, ammunition, concealed carry permits, or sending strange messages to innocent parties which display photographs of these things called 'fire arms', with notes of their names attached, much like the note I so harmlessly travelled 100 miles to place at the plaintiff's property... are these all just strange gods, or magical concepts a simple caveman would know nothing about? I don't know, your honor... but I assure you I am harmless. And I represent myself, here, today, because I am but an indigent, downtrodden caveman... I have no money for legal council. What is legal council, anyway? Is it a strange voodoo ritual I am unaware of? In any case, this proves above all else I am the true victim here. ...Also, I believe I may have PTSD. Thank you.

Judge: The jury will now retire to deliberate.

Jury Foreman: [ standing ] Your Honor.. we don't need to retire. Basl's words are just as true now as they were in his time. We give him the full amount, place sanctions, and declare the moving party a menace to society and sentence the lot of them to life imprisonment for persecuting such a poor, unfortunate, confused man who knows nothing of our modern world or technology. Furthermore, we commend Mr. Basl's bravery in facing these bullies and in advocating for himself. We also understand that, when the victimization became too much for him too handle, he found VINE especially useful.

[ the jury applauds Basl, who is absently focused on his iPhone, chuckling at a Meade Skelton video on Youtube ]

Judge: Did you hear that, Mr. Basl?

Basl: [ iPhone now to his ear ] Hang on a second.. [ to the judge ] I-I'm sorry, your Honor. I was listening to the magic voices coming out of this strange modern invention! [ gives a surreptitious 'thumbs up' to lizzie and Cary, both seated inconspicuously at the back row; smiles maliciously to the camera ]

Announcer: This has been "Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer". Join us next week... at 5am, in your driveway, for another episode.

/
Attachments:

Mr. Misery is back!

Mr. Misery is back! Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Mr. Misery is back!

"Back" implies that he left at some point.

Where's Eesh?

He's recovering from this embarrassing feat.

Dr Fill Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> He's recovering from this embarrassing feat.


Dr. Scholls can fix that!

Unmasking a Confidence Trickster

by Franz Kafka

At last, about ten o'clock at night, I came to the doorway of the fine house where I was invited to spend the evening, after the man beside me, whom I was barely acquainted with and who had once again thrust himself unasked upon me, had marched me for two long hours around the streets.

'Well!' I said, and clapped my hands to show that I really had to bid him goodbye. I had already made several less explicit attempts to get rid of him. I was tired out. 'Are you going straight in?' he asked. I heard a sound in his mouth that was like the snapping of teeth. 'Yes.'

I had been invited out, I told him when I met him. But it was to enter a house where I longed to be that I had been invited, not to stand here at the street door looking past the ears of the man before me. Nor to fall silent with him, as if we were doomed to stay for a long time on this spot. And yet the houses around us at once took a share in our silence, and the darkness over them, all the way up to the stars. And the steps of invisible passers-by, which one could not take the trouble to elucidate, and the wind persistently buffeting the other side of the street, and a gramophone singing behind the closed windows of some room - they all announced themselves in this silence, as if it were their own possession for the time past and to come.

And my companion subscribed to it in his own name and - with a smile - in mine too, stretched his right arm up along the wall and leaned his cheek upon it, shutting his eyes.

But I did not wait to see the end of that smile, for shame suddenly caught hold of me. It had needed that smile to let me know that the man was a confidence trickster, nothing else. And yet I had been months in the town and thought I knew all about confidence tricksters, how they came slinking out of side streets by night to meet us with outstretched hands like tavernkeepers, how they haunted the advertisement pillars we stood beside, sliding around them as if playing hide-and-seek and spying on us with at least one eye, how they suddenly appeared on the curb of the pavement at cross-streets when we were hesitating! I understood them so well, they were the first acquaintances I had made in the town's small taverns, and to them I owed my first inkling of a ruthless hardness which I was now so conscious of, everywhere on earth, that I was even beginning to feel it in myself. How persistently they blocked our way, even when we had long shaken ourselves free, even when, that is, they had nothing more to hope for! How they refused to give up, to admit defeat, but kept shooting glances at us that even from a distance were still compelling! And the means they employed were always the same: they planted themselves before us, looking as large as possible, tried to hinder us from going where we purposed, offered us instead a habitation in their own bosoms, and when at last all our balked feelings rose in revolt they welcomed that like an embrace into which they threw themselves face foremost.

And it had taken me such a long time in this man's company to recognize the same old game. I rubbed my finger tips together to wipe away the disgrace.

My companion was still leaning there as before, still believing himself a successful trickster, and his self-complacency glowed pink on his free cheek.

'Caught in the act!' said I, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. Then I ran up the steps, and the disinterested devotion on the servants' faces in the hall delighted me like an unexpected treat. I looked at them all, one after another, while they took my greatcoat off and wiped my shoes clean.

With a deep breath of relief and straightening myself to my full height, I then entered the drawing room.

/
Attachments:

you all do realize this shit is anon eesh trying to flood the thread with posts that "seem" like misery, right?

don't think so

Continued (Part 2)



INT. FAIRFAX COUNTY CIRCUIT COURT

Eesh is dragged struggling and kicking from the room.

                                                           "EESH"
              You haven't seen the last of me!  I know where you live!  This is a
              felony!!  I'm pressin' charges.........!

The judge watches calmly for a few moments, until eesh is gone. Then he turns to Miz.

                                                    REAL JUDGE
              Now, tell me, MrMisery. Who is this individual "Cary" you mentioned?

He puts on his reading glasses, sorts through the pleadings.

                                                    REAL JUDGE
              You write, "Acting with a reckless and callous disregard for the
              rights and safety of others, Cary permitted and empowered 'eesh' to
              use Fairfax Underground as an instrument for 'eesh's' sociopathic
              aggression."

Removes glasses, looks at Miz.

                                                    REAL JUDGE
              What you say here reminds me of a case out of the Ninth Circuit...
              The Model Mayhem case, if memory serves.

                                                    MrMISERY
              Exactly, your Honor!

                                                    REAL JUDGE
                                                   (thoughtfully)
              If anything, this "Cary" character seems far worse than the Model
              Mayhem defendants.  Do you think, Mr. Leiser, that Model Mayhem is
              consistent with Virginia precedents?

                                                    PHIL LEISER
              Actually, your Honor, I do.  Although Model Mayhem rests on a
              California precedent, Tarasoff, that Virginia does not follow, Tarasoff,
              in turn, rests on larger equitable principles that are followed in
              Virginia.  Thus we believe that Thompson v. Skate (2001) and Gupton
              v. Quicke (1994), among others, lay the precedential foundation for
              a Virginia equivalent to the Model Mayhem rule.

                                                    REAL JUDGE
              By analogy..?

                                                    PHIL LEISER
              Yes.  It is a question of applying settled docrine in a new context, the
              internet.

                                                    REAL JUDGE
              Reasoning by analogy can be a tricky business.

                                                    PHIL LEISER
              Indeed.  We believe, however, that the kind of flagrant abuse of
              existing law seen in the case of websites like Fairfax Underground
              will lead courts to the proper rule.

              Thus, as seemed to be the case in Model Mayhem, bad defendants can
              make good law.

              Specifically, harm done to innocent third parties by callous defendants -
              harm of the kind done to my client, for example - can alert courts to
              shortcomings in existing law, and to the proper direction the law must
              proceed in the future.

                                                    REAL JUDGE
              Should you choose to pursue this matter, I think you would be doing
              a welcome service for the entire community.  There has long been a
              peculiar stench from that website.  The First Amendment requires us
              to put up with it, and indeed with far worse.  Of course, any good
              citizen who knows a little history accepts that.  If we want freedom
              of speech for ourselves, we cannot deny it to others.  But the First
              Amendment has never countenanced such matters as perjury,
              defamation, or true threats.  It did not countenance publication
              of the book Hit Man, and nor should it countenance new forms of
              tortious behavior that are emerging with the growth of the internet.

                                                    MrMISERY
                                                       (timidly)
              Your Honor...?

                                                    REAL JUDGE
              Yes, "MrMisery"?

                                                    MrMISERY
              When I was preparing for this case, I came across a remark by
              Thomas Jefferson which I think is...  or may be...  ...nawwww...

He stops and looks at the floor, his face turning pink with embarrassment.

                                                    REAL JUDGE
                                                       (kindly)
              Please, go ahead, "MrMisery".  You've piqued my interest.

                                                    MrMISERY
              Well, I, uh, I knew a man named Bill, worked construction, up on
              those steel beams... you know the ones... he worked way up high
              on steel beams...
                                                       (laughs)
              Sorry, I got confused for a moment. I'm kind of hungry and I was
              just thinking... in my back pocket, this mashed-up jelly donut, and I...
              Sorry. Where was I?

              Oh, yeah. Jefferson. I saw this remark by Jefferson somewhere, and
              it really stuck with me.

              He wrote, and I quote. “I am not an advocate for frequent changes in
              laws and institutions. But laws and institutions must go hand in hand
              with the progress of the human mind. As that becomes more developed,
              more enlightened, as new discoveries are made, and new truths uncovered,
              manners and opinions change.  And with the change of circumstances,
              institutions must advance also to keep pace with the times.

                “We might as well require a man to wear still the coat which
              fitted him when a boy as civilized society to remain ever
              unchanged under a regime of laws that have outlived their
              purpose.”

              End of quote. And, well, what you said about the First Amendment and
              Fairfax Underground, it made me think of that quote.

                                                    REAL JUDGE
              An apt citation.  Thank you, "MrMisery."

              I recall that late in Jefferson's life he was deeply troubled by the
              fierce struggle that took place over the admission of Missouri as a
              slave state.  He called it "a fire bell in the night" that filled him
              with terror.  It was, he thought, the death knell of the Union,
              with the Missouri Compromise being only a temporary reprieve.

              Jefferson was quite right.  His vision of the coming Civil War was
              chillingly prophetic.

              We may have heard a little fire bell of our own today.  To the extent the
              law allows a website like Fairfax Underground to be used as an
              instrument for sociopathic aggression - as, it would seem, Cary has
              both enabled and permitted "eesh" to do - you are no longer dealing
              with questions of "free speech."  You're --

                                                    MrMISERY
                                                    (blurts out)
              You're shitting on free speech.  And if you love free speech, you don't
              shit on it!

                                                    REAL JUDGE
              Well, I wouldn't have put it quite that way myself, but I think that's
              exactly right, "MrMisery"!

SUDDENLY AN OLD MAN
in the back of the court room stands up and begins to clap.

After a few moments, several other courtroom observers do likewise.

MIZ'S MOTHER AND FATHER AND SISTER
begin to applaud.

AS DO THE ATTORNEYS...
the stenographer... the bailiff... and the judge, who casts a beneficient, Harry Carey-like smile on Miz.

CLOSE ON MrMISERY
who seems a bit overwhelmed by this unexpected burst of affirmation.

Perhaps, for a few moments, he might be better described as Mr. Happiness.


CUT TO:



INT. "EESH'S" BEDROOM
"Eesh" sits at his computer taking deep breaths, composing himself. Finally he begins to type.

INSERT - COMPUTER SCREEN
We read "eesh's" words as they are typed.

                                    "EESH'S" TYPEWRITTEN WORDS
              I came, I saw, I conquered. Contrary to any rumors you may have
              heard, justice triumphed today. I kicked MrMisery and his rich
              lawyer's ass. I --

The CLICKING of the keyboard abruptly stops.

Eesh stares at the screen for a moment with a blank expression.

Then suddenly:

                                             "EESH"
              FUCK!

With some difficulty, he picks up the monitor, yanking violently at the cords. He finally gets it loose and
hurls it across the room. It crashes into the wall and lands on the floor in a heap. Then he falls back into
his chair, emotionally and psychologically exhausted.

                                             "EESH"
              Fuck...      Fuck him.     Fuck that little shit.

Beat.

                                             "EESH"
               FUCK!!!

                                 


After a moment, he pulls his cell phone from his pocket, punches in a number, and presses it to his ear.

                                             "EESH"
              Cary...?

He starts to cry.

                                             "EESH"
              I fucked up. It's bad, really bad.


CUT TO:



INT. CARY'S APARTMENT
The room is completely dark except for the cold blue light of a single computer monitor that Cary sits
in front of. We cannot see his face; he is a black silhouette against the light of the monitor.

For several long moments he says nothing. All we hear is the unnaturally loud, almost Darth Vader-ish
sound of his BREATHING.

                                             "EESH'S" VOICE
                                     (through Cary's cell phone)
              Cary, the judge. This fucking asshole. ...He mentioned your name.

                                             CARY
              God damn you, Basl. Do I have to do everything for you? Wipe
              your fucking ass?

                                             "EESH'S" VOICE
                                     (through Cary's cell phone)
              Cary, please.  I can help you...  You know I can help you.  Just one
              more chance.  Please.  I will not let you down.  I'll kill him if I have --

                                             CARY
              Shut. The. Fuck. Up.
                                     (takes a deep breah)
              We can't talk about this on the phone.  Meet me --

                                             "EESH'S" VOICE
                                     (through Cary's cell phone)
              Under the plasma?

                                             CARY
              Yes. And bring the Mossberg Chainsaw.

                                             "EESH'S" VOICE
                                     (excited)
              The Chainsaw?! You got it, boss. And the horse mask? Can I bring the --

                                             CARY
                                     (cutting him off)
              Bring a clown mask. That would be more appropriate.

                                             "EESH'S" VOICE
              Boss, please.... I said I was sorry.

                                             CARY
              Actually, you didn't. Bring the fucking mask if it makes you happy..

                                             "EESH'S" VOICE
              Thank you, Boss, thanks. I --

Cary disconnects, drops the cell into the breast pocket of his short-sleeve, button-down shirt.

We slowly zoom in on Cary's face, deep in thought. The light from the computer monitor has
turned red, giving his features, lit from below, a slightly demonic cast. He purses his lips as
though chewing something sour.

                                             CARY
                                     (almost a whisper)
              So be it.

He stands.


CUT TO:



INT. CHUCKHOFFMAN'S SURVEILLANCE ROOM
The room is crowded with a haphazard mix of old-school and cutting edge technology. Chuck is working
a reel-to-reel tape recorder. He reverses the tape with a squealing-jabbering sound. Stops.
He cranks the volume, leans forward, and hits play.

                                             CARY'S VOICE
                                     (over the speakers)
              So be it.

He rewinds the tape, plays it again, listening with great concentration.

He stops the tape. Frowns.

He selects a key from the retractable keychain ring clipped to his belt, ulocks the top right drawer
of his desk. He removes a revolver, and a small cardboard box of bullets. He loads the gun methodically,
shuts the chamber with a flip of the wrist, and slips the gun into his pants pocket.

He stands, looking at an old photo of a young woman thumbtacked to the wall. He brushes his thumb
lightly across her cheek.

                                             CHUCK
              I'm sorry honey. I know I can never make it right. But if you're up
              there, say a little prayer for me. I'm about to do something crazy.
              I'm going to kill the devil.


CUT TO:



INT. CLYDE'S, RESTON TOWNE CENTRE

The door swings open.

Enter TheNorthman.

      


CUT TO:


INT. INKA'S HOT ROD (MOVING)

                       

Inkahootz, right hand firmly on the wheel, trance/hip-hop music BLASTING.

INKA'S LEFT HAND
rests in his lap, loosely holding a nickel-plated revolver.


CUT TO:


EXT./INT. CAR

"Eesh" lies in wait one-half block from the entrance to CLYDE'S.

                       


CUT TO:


EXT. CLYDE'S - LATER

Having received a mysterious invitation via pm from Hoocoodanode, MrMISERY approaches the entrance to Clyde's.

The "spoofed" pm was sent by "eesh," who approaches Miz from behind with the Mossberg.

                       


CUT TO:


EXT. ALLEY

Cary corners "eesh" in a dead-end alley - failure to complete the Miz job spells the end of the line for "eesh".

                                

                                                                                                              







       
       Cary's CIA handler watches with approval


CUT TO:


INT. APARTMENT

Meanwhile far away in another part of town, the doors and windows have been sealed.

There will be no escape.

                                             



CUT TO:


FAIRFAX - 3:00 A.M.

A cold wind blows over the mean streets of Fairfax.

                                              


Fade to black.







                                                   











PS:

Miz gets a happy ending.











Cary develops new and interesting ways of removing "garbarge"







TheNorthman finds his sleep interrupted by disturbing visions. He ages badly.









Chuck receives a mysterious ticket for a luxurious pleasure cruise, upon which, alas, an albatross descends










Inkahootz finds happiness as a carpenter

9K9Ct Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> you all do realize this shit is anon eesh trying
> to flood the thread with posts that "seem" like
> misery, right?


Still think that's eesh?

i see what's going on here..someone is posting old mystery novels trying to mix them up with what is obviously mr misery's tales and takes on the case with eesh. a simple search of google pulls up the actual novels and a search of what appears to be mr misery turns up no results. the writing style and picture attachment is completely different.

i think it's funny when everyone is being facetious ..i wouldn't fool with these cats =p

It doesn't matter who's posting what at this point it's all so insane but so damn funny. The shit on on here should be made into a cartoon.

the court transcripts... Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> The following are the actual courtroom
> transcripts:
>
>
>
> [ open on interior, courtroom, the Judge banging
> her gavel ]
>
> Judge: Mr. Basl, are you ready to give your
> summation?
>
> Basl: [ stepping out] It's just "eesh", if you
> please, your Honor.. and, yes, I'm ready. [
> approaches the jury box ] Ladies and gentlemen of
> the jury, I'm just a caveman. I fell on some ice
> and later got thawed out by some of your
> scientists. Your world frightens and confuses me!
> Sometimes the honking horns of your traffic make
> me want to get out of my Scion... and run off into
> the hills, or wherever... Sometimes when I get a
> message on Fairfax Underground, I wonder: "Did
> little demons get inside and type it?" I don't
> know! My primitive mind can't grasp these
> concepts. As you can see, I'm but a simple pauper
> with not a dime to his name... I'm just a caveman,
> your honor... VINE will attest to that fact! Look,
> it's printed right here on this strange, thin
> substance you call paper! Furthermore, it says I
> am a victim... and one of your strange and
> unfamiliar modern-day authorities which only
> confuse and confound my primitive caveman
> intellect is on record as corroborating this fact!
> Did tiny demons crawl inside my computer and type
> threatening messages to me, your honor? I don't
> know! I'm just a simple caveman! But this strange
> and confusing authority figure told me personally
> there was probable cause to serve a warrant for
> the plaintiff's arrest and therefore he is without
> a shred of credibility in this vexatious suit...
> this man you modern people call 'maj-i-strit'
> indicated that these possible demon-messages most
> likely came from him, because--LOOK--is that not
> the plaintiff's name signed to this odd and
> confounding demon-message, on this thing you
> modern people call paper?! Did the plaintiff in
> this suit (and the defendant in the case I have
> initiated for these messages) somehow crawl inside
> my simple caveman computer, bypassing my simple
> caveman firewall--and use an overseas proxy to
> threaten me? I don't know! I'm but a simple, poor
> caveman, going to college to study computer
> security and technology... I know nothing of your
> modern world!"
>
>
> [Basl pauses deliberately and begins pacing
> slowly, hands folded behind his back, thoughtfully
> furrowing his pronounced caveman brow; he
> continues...]
>
>
> "...But there is one thing I do know - I have
> NEVER used a proxy server or TOR in order to
> reroute illegal online communications directed
> towards the plaintiff in this case... what is a
> proxy? Is it some strange kind of mammoth? A sun
> god? I am confounded and confused by these issues,
> your honor. Therefore, as an obvious persecuted
> victim of these modern, rich, computer-savvy
> people, I ask you place sanctions on them and
> issue me no less than 10,000 of your modern units
> of currency, so that I may upgrade my desktop
> operating system and purchase a new laptop, as it
> has likely been corrupted by some strange and
> confusing virus due to this entire ordeal. I move
> not only to quash this vexatious suit, but on top
> of my requests for restitution, that (because I am
> but a simple caveman, representing myself, and
> know nothing of your modern legal system) the
> entire family filing this frivolous, vexatious,
> outrageous suit be thrown in jail for life. I have
> spoken to many of what you modern people call
> 'police men', and they all believe and trust me,
> as I am a credible and upstanding citizen who has
> only but once driven over 100 miles in one of your
> modern contraptions known as a 'car' to leave a
> threatening note on the plaintiff's property.
> But... your honor... I mean... come on! [Basl
> looks around, arms outstretched, drinking in the
> judge and jury's support and sympathy] And of
> course, I have used my simple caveman computer to
> state on multiple occasions an intent to stalk the
> party filing suit... but again... come on! I'm but
> a simple caveman. I slipped and fell in some ice
> thousands of years ago... I know nothing of your
> modern world, or proxy servers, or anonymizing
> services, or phishing, or VPN, or IP trackers, or
> IP spoofing, or TOR, or keylogging, or source
> code, or firearms, ammunition, concealed carry
> permits, or sending strange messages to innocent
> parties which display photographs of these things
> called 'fire arms', with notes of their names
> attached, much like the note I so harmlessly
> travelled 100 miles to place at the plaintiff's
> property... are these all just strange gods, or
> magical concepts a simple caveman would know
> nothing about? I don't know, your honor... but I
> assure you I am harmless. And I represent myself,
> here, today, because I am but an indigent,
> downtrodden caveman... I have no money for legal
> council. What is legal council, anyway? Is it a
> strange voodoo ritual I am unaware of? In any
> case, this proves above all else I am the true
> victim here. ...Also, I believe I may have PTSD.
> Thank you.
>
> Judge: The jury will now retire to deliberate.
>
> Jury Foreman: [ standing ] Your Honor.. we don't
> need to retire. Basl's words are just as true now
> as they were in his time. We give him the full
> amount, place sanctions, and declare the moving
> party a menace to society and sentence the lot of
> them to life imprisonment for persecuting such a
> poor, unfortunate, confused man who knows nothing
> of our modern world or technology. Furthermore, we
> commend Mr. Basl's bravery in facing these bullies
> and in advocating for himself. We also understand
> that, when the victimization became too much for
> him too handle, he found VINE especially useful.
>
> [ the jury applauds Basl, who is absently focused
> on his iPhone, chuckling at a Meade Skelton video
> on Youtube ]
>
> Judge: Did you hear that, Mr. Basl?
>
> Basl: [ iPhone now to his ear ] Hang on a second..
> [ to the judge ] I-I'm sorry, your Honor. I was
> listening to the magic voices coming out of this
> strange modern invention! [ gives a surreptitious
> 'thumbs up' to lizzie and Cary, both seated
> inconspicuously at the back row; smiles
> maliciously to the camera ]
>
> Announcer: This has been "Unfrozen Caveman
> Lawyer". Join us next week... at 5am, in your
> driveway, for another episode.
>
> /


Wanted to read, but the large blocks of print hurt the brain. Sorry.

Proxy Hopper Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------





Bravo!

cjKXj Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> 9K9Ct Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > you all do realize this shit is anon eesh
> trying
> > to flood the thread with posts that "seem" like
> > misery, right?
>
>
> Still think that's eesh?


yes, what better way to take the focus off himself and onto misery

even me posting just my response is another post AWAY from the original topic

definitely eesh

One is Miz for sure

TEAMWORK!
by Frank Jackdaw

An eesh was hacking at my feet.

It had already torn my boots and stockings to shreds, now it was hacking at the feet themselves.

Again and again it struck at them, then circled several times restlessly round me, then returned to continue its work.

Cary passed by, looked on for a while, then asked me why I suffered the eesh.

"I'm helpless," I said. "When it came and began to attack me, I of course tried to drive it away, even to strangle it, but these animals are very strong, it was about to spring at my face, but I preferred to sacrifice my feet. Now they are almost torn to bits."

"Fancy letting yourself be tortured like this!" said Cary. "One shot and that's the end of the eesh."

"Really?" I said. "And would you do that?"

"With pleasure," said Cary, "I've only got to go home and get my gun. Could you wait another half hour?"

"I'm not sure about that," said I, and stood for a moment rigid with pain. Then I said: "Do try in any case, please."

"Very well," said Cary, "I'll be as quick as I can."

During this conversation the eesh had been calmly listening, letting its eye rove between me and Cary.

Now I realized that it had understood everything.

It took wing, leaned far back to gain impetus, and then, like a javelin thrower, thrust its beak through my mouth, deep into me.

Falling back, I was relieved to feel him drowning irretrievably in my blood, which was filling every depth, flooding every shore.


Pic unrelated.
Attachments:

Cary arrives home from work!














LATER THAT DAY:

Cary and "Eesh" exchange "high fives"!   It's been another great day!

Aw, now he's trying even harder. Look at him.

He's adorbs!

DRUNKS AND CHILDREN

(Interior Monologue No. 17)

What was spoken to me, I knew to be the truth. A crazy story about the sanctity and true nature of the human appendix. A useless protrusion of tissue that, according to my storyteller, the little round man who looked like a clean-shaven mole-- was the one true answer to everything. The problem came in divining just what truth—-or rather, whose truth it was, exactly, that I’d been told. The round, hairless mole man seemed liked good enough people, but somehow I had the spidey-sense to think twice before buying a weird story in full faith and credit told to me by a human mole...

For the life of me, I couldn’t begin to answer the question that had become-- in revision-- prologue to my current story. What began as a simple journey home had now become a journey to unravel and comprehend the existence of home—any home—as a place from which I logically must have strayed. The simple truth, that I had been a troubled businessman who’d lost his way—strayed from the road he’d known and trusted to get him home everyday and instead found a place and a predicament of uncertain proportions—this simple truth had in time been replaced, or corrected; amended or elaborated, perhaps, by the newer truth. An overlapping truth.

I recall the saying that goes something like this: “only drunks and children speak the truth.” It was appropriate, then, that the truth I’d found myself at odds with also seemed no more coherent than the slurred words of my uncle the hayseed, who so often was fond of boasting in his inebriated machismo to have a mastery of the martial arts.

It could be taken as truth, after a fashion--that claim of deadly intimidation—that his ham hands had in any way the dexterity inscribed in their damaged and dropsy-filled nerves the skill to pull off the impossible. That he could drop ten men in one fell swoop of a roundhouse kick, or force his random adversary into submission with the steady chokehold of some G.I. Joe Kung-Fu grip.

That was certainly not fact, however. Not empirically, it would seem.

But, in truth, as far as my limited mental resources could recall, that drunken hayseed uncle of mine certainly did fell many the opponent at the empty ham hands of a drunken bluff. There was something to be said for that. Empirically. He didn’t need a weapon, in the end, to fell his adversary. It was something internal, and drunken or shit-faced as it may have been, quite remarkable. A drunken master, one who'd never so much as come within 50 feet of the remotest possibility of a physical altercation. As a certain species of truth, deadlier than Bruce Lee.

"Yep, I could beat up a tiger," he'd say many a time after downing 8 or 9 Pabst Blue Ribbons. When I was a dumb kid, sitting on the spare cinderblock next to the front porch (the other four cinder blocks of course firmly propping up the rusted out Chevy out in the front lawn), well, when I was sitting on that cinder block certain brisk summer nights, my uncle the hayseed had no doubt bested more than a few tigers in his time. In my child's mind, anyway. A drunken hayseed will brag at least once in his life he has the physical prowess to beat a tiger in a fist-fight. Fact.

And, When a hayseed is drunk and tells a drunken hayseed lie to a child, that lie may as well be scripture. When the phenomenon of nostalgia intervenes, you could rightly say (after a few Pabsts, perhaps) that even as a grown, sober man, I still sit on that same cinder block, and that my hayseed uncle had in fact beat up a tiger or two. Sober as a judge, I could still buy it...in a certain light. If a lie is true enough for a drunk and a child, it may as well be true in fact. A tree falling in the woods sorta thing. After all, who does the fact-checking here...? Absent a sober judge, the very meaning of the word 'truth' can very quickly boil down to alcohol, boxing tigers and kung-fu...

In any case, the truth I speak of now had rather to do with the mole man’s bedside monologue on waste and altruism, and the sanctity of the human appendix. The apparent worship of the useless. Without the slightest mental swerving, I’d fallen into thinking, maybe, this whole thing was just some big misunderstanding. Maybe the mole man’s truth would turn out to reconcile with the one I’d held tight for so long. Maybe things would make sense, in the end.

I’d have to temper any inclination towards diplomacy, however, with my uncorrelated and isolated memory of a drunken hayseed uncle who could slay the beast with only the power of his booze-drowned mind. Our long journey to our now as ever unnamed and unproven destination had gone on for the length of my thoughts on the reliability of drunks and children. It’s true, children tend more often than not to say whatever passes through their little heads, and the things they say are often untrue. Children lie. Just like drunks.

But within a lie, from either the mouths of babes or winos, there is a certainty, at least, of honesty. A true lie—one that speaks slovenly to another that you could kick his ass with some sweet Kung Fu moves, or that you didn’t break the vase when you did—is one that regardless of truth in facts is honest, above all; and in the end, truthful to the intentions and calculations of human nature.

Which, I can only assume, is at its most truthful when it's at its crazed and drunken worst. Never mind the tigers or the kung-fu.




DISPLACEMENT/MISPLACEMENT/REPLACEMENT
(Mr. Kravitz’ Story Concluded)


The caller at his door that late afternoon turned out to be no more than a traveling salesman. Kravitz couldn’t quite pin down the true nature of the caller’s business, but probably it was some middle aged virgin going around selling God. Jehovah’s Witness, or some such nonsense. In any case, the old man’s judgment in this instance was correct. The city council hadn’t come by since that day on the porch. They’d revealed as much, in their yellow hardhats and white button-down shirts, that Mr. Kravitz’ next inconvenience would no longer see fit to afford any such courtesy. And so it was. Mr. Kravitz went back to his bed, finished applying his Ben-Gay, and after some considerable time, fell into a geriatric spell of unconsciousness (it was all too inaccurate—taunting, even—to call the passing of any time in bed ‘sleep’).

When he’d at length regained what little consciousness still remained, Kravitz was in a different place. A different time. His usual cat-like nap had apparently been instead a deep and murky slumber. It wasn’t the same time of day. Not at all. Maybe not even the same time of the week, or month, or year. Bedridden, Kravitz made only as if to reach for his plastic urinal, then ceased any further movement. He didn’t have any piss left in him at the moment. It was uncertain, among many other things, that he’d ever have anymore piss in him. At least, his inability to piss and do so knowingly had conveyed that effect.

The work order sat anchored down by a tall glass of water next to him. Though he couldn’t see it—didn’t know it—it was there. Paid in full, the State kept its promise. Underneath his paper bedclothes, there was the slight cool of metal. When it came to him finally to lift his face, the only thing before him appeared to be a large, fat woman, with a white outfit and a paper hat, lifting up the metal bedpan and taking a brief look inside the bowl. But by that time, he was already too tired to care.

/


edit by Cary: This post was generated by the author formerly known as Mr. Misery aka jimmylegs. Mr. Misery, I would take these comments seriously if they were produced by ANYONE but yourself. You have been permanently banned from this forum. Any attempt by you to access this interactive computing resource is against repeated explicit instructions that you are not authorized to do so.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 04/17/2015 12:18PM by Cary.
Attachments:

This tactic isn't working anymore. Most people know now to just ignore those post and read the actual Mr. Misery trial mockery posts. Those are comedy gold! Keep them coming!

For sale. One pair baby shoes. Never used.

Best short story ever... Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> For sale. One pair baby shoes. Never used.


Just slightly abused

has it been 10 days?

Locked up? Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Where's Eesh?


Matter of public record: eesh filed a protective order on Misery, it was rejected on Monday.

People knew this, right?

To answer your question...no way to spin this loss, suppose he decided it best to lay low hoping no one would notice.

The Atavist -- by Robert W. Service

What are you doing here, Tom Thorne, on the white top-knot o' the world,
Where the wind has the cut of a naked knife and the stars are rapier keen?
Hugging a smudgy willow fire, deep in a lynx robe curled,
You that's a lord's own son, Tom Thorne — what does your madness mean?

Go home, go home to your clubs, Tom Thorne! home to your evening dress!
Home to your place of power and pride, and the feast that waits for you!
Why do you linger all alone in the splendid emptiness,
Scouring the Land of the Little Sticks on the trail of the caribou?

Why did you fall off the Earth, Tom Thorne, out of our social ken?
What did your deep damnation prove? What was your dark despair?
Oh with the width of a world between, and years to the count of ten,
If they cut out your heart to-night, Tom Thorne,
HER name would be graven there!

And you fled afar for the thing called Peace,
and you thought you would find it here,
In the purple tundras vastly spread, and the mountains whitely piled;
It's a weary quest and a dreary quest, but I think that the end is near;
For they say that the Lord has hidden it in the secret heart of the Wild.

And you know that heart as few men know, and your eyes are fey and deep,
With a "something lost" come welling back from the raw, red dawn of life:
With woe and pain have you greatly lain, till out of abysmal sleep
The soul of the Stone Age leaps in you, alert for the ancient strife.

And if you came to our feast again, with its pomp and glee and glow,
I think you would sit stone-still, Tom Thorne, and see in a daze of dream,
A mad sun goading to frenzied flame the glittering gems of the snow,
And a monster musk-ox bulking black against the blood-red gleam.

I think you would see berg-battling shores, and stammer and halt and stare,
With a sudden sense of the frozen void, serene and vast and still;
And the aching gleam and the hush of dream,
and the track of a great white bear,
And the primal lust that surged in you as you sprang to make your kill.

I think you would hear the bull-moose call, and the glutted river roar;
And spy the hosts of the caribou shadow the shining plain;
And feel the pulse of the Silences, and stand elate once more
On the verge of the yawning vastitudes that call to you in vain.

For I think you are one with the stars and the sun,
and the wind and the wave and the dew;
And the peaks untrod that yearn to God, and the valleys undefiled;
Men soar with wings, and they bridle kings, but what is it all to you,
Wise in the ways of the wilderness, and strong with the strength of the Wild?

You have spent your life, you have waged your strife
where never we play a part;
You have held the throne of the Great Unknown, you have ruled a kingdom vast:
. . . . .
BUT TO-NIGHT THERE'S A STRANGE, NEW TRAIL FOR YOU, AND YOU GO, O WEARY HEART!
TO THE PEACE AND REST OF THE GREAT UNGUESSED . . .
AT LAST, TOM THORNE, AT LAST.

Barb-Wire Bill-- by Robert W. Service

At dawn of day the white land lay all gruesome-like and grim,
When Bill Mc'Gee he says to me: "We've GOT to do it, Jim.
We've got to make Fort Liard quick. I know the river's bad,
But, oh! the little woman's sick . . . why! don't you savvy, lad?"
And me! Well, yes, I must confess it wasn't hard to see
Their little family group of two would soon be one of three.
And so I answered, careless-like: "Why, Bill! you don't suppose
I'm scared of that there 'babbling brook'? Whatever you say — goes."

A real live man was Barb-wire Bill, with insides copper-lined;
For "barb-wire" was the brand of "hooch" to which he most inclined.
They knew him far; his igloos are on Kittiegazuit strand.
They knew him well, the tribes who dwell within the Barren Land.
From Koyokuk to Kuskoquim his fame was everywhere;
And he did love, all life above, that little Julie Claire,
The lithe, white slave-girl he had bought for seven hundred skins,
And taken to his wickiup to make his moccasins.

We crawled down to the river bank and feeble folk were we,
That Julie Claire from God-knows-where, and Barb-wire Bill and me.
From shore to shore we heard the roar the heaving ice-floes make,
And loud we laughed, and launched our raft, and followed in their wake.
The river swept and seethed and leapt, and caught us in its stride;
And on we hurled amid a world that crashed on every side.
With sullen din the banks caved in; the shore-ice lanced the stream;
The naked floes like spooks arose, all jiggling and agleam.
Black anchor-ice of strange device shot upward from its bed,
As night and day we cleft our way, and arrow-like we sped.

But "Faster still!" cried Barb-wire Bill, and looked the live-long day
In dull despair at Julie Claire, as white like death she lay.
And sometimes he would seem to pray and sometimes seem to curse,
And bent above, with eyes of love, yet ever she grew worse.
And as we plunged and leapt and lunged, her face was plucked with pain,
And I could feel his nerves of steel a-quiver at the strain.
And in the night he gripped me tight as I lay fast asleep:
"The river's kicking like a steer . . . run out the forward sweep!
That's Hell-gate Canyon right ahead; I know of old its roar,
And . . . I'll be damned! THE ICE IS JAMMED! We've GOT to make the shore."

With one wild leap I gripped the sweep. The night was black as sin.
The float-ice crashed and ripped and smashed, and stunned us with its din.
And near and near, and clear and clear I heard the canyon boom;
And swift and strong we swept along to meet our awful doom.
And as with dread I glimpsed ahead the death that waited there,
My only thought was of the girl, the little Julie Claire;
And so, like demon mad with fear, I panted at the oar,
And foot by foot, and inch by inch, we worked the raft ashore.

The bank was staked with grinding ice, and as we scraped and crashed,
I only knew one thing to do, and through my mind it flashed:
Yet while I groped to find the rope, I heard Bill's savage cry:
"That's my job, lad! It's me that jumps. I'll snub this raft or die!"
I saw him leap, I saw him creep, I saw him gain the land;
I saw him crawl, I saw him fall, then run with rope in hand.
And then the darkness gulped him up, and down we dashed once more,
And nearer, nearer drew the jam, and thunder-like its roar.

Oh God! all's lost . . . from Julie Claire there came a wail of pain,
And then — the rope grew sudden taut, and quivered at the strain;
It slacked and slipped, it whined and gripped, and oh, I held my breath!
And there we hung and there we swung right in the jaws of death.

A little strand of hempen rope, and how I watched it there,
With all around a hell of sound, and darkness and despair;
A little strand of hempen rope, I watched it all alone,
And somewhere in the dark behind I heard a woman moan;
And somewhere in the dark ahead I heard a man cry out,
Then silence, silence, silence fell, and mocked my hollow shout.
And yet once more from out the shore I heard that cry of pain,
A moan of mortal agony, then all was still again.

That night was hell with all the frills, and when the dawn broke dim,
I saw a lean and level land, but never sign of him.
I saw a flat and frozen shore of hideous device,
I saw a long-drawn strand of rope that vanished through the ice.
And on that treeless, rockless shore I found my partner — dead.
No place was there to snub the raft, so — HE HAD SERVED INSTEAD;
And with the rope lashed round his waist, in last defiant fight,
He'd thrown himself beneath the ice, that closed and gripped him tight;
And there he'd held us back from death, as fast in death he lay. . . .
Say, boys! I'm not the pious brand, but — I just tried to pray.
And then I looked to Julie Claire, and sore abashed was I,
For from the robes that covered her, I — HEARD — A — BABY — CRY. . . .

Thus was Love conqueror of death, and life for life was given;
And though no saint on earth, d'ye think —
Bill's squared hisself with Heaven?

No-Spin Zone Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Locked up? Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > Where's Eesh?
>
>
> Matter of public record: eesh filed a protective
> order on Misery, it was rejected on Monday.
>
> People knew this, right?
>
> To answer your question...no way to spin this
> loss, suppose he decided it best to lay low hoping
> no one would notice.


Where's the record of this? How would anyone know this or post this besides Mr. Miserable? And why was it rejected?

Are ya'll saying Henrico kicked him to the curb? Told him to fuck off? What happen?

OP used a recording device in the courtroom.

Illegal activities Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> OP used a recording device in the courtroom.


If he did, he violated the court rules. No can do. If the bailiff sees that, you'd be told to turn if off, at a minimum, or at worst have it confiscated until court ends for the day.

Nope.

I certainly did not use recording equipment; I just took reasonably good notes.

What happen? Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Are ya'll saying Henrico kicked him to the curb?
> Told him to fuck off? What happen?


No proof as usual just some troll stirring shit up.

Miserable Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> No-Spin Zone Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > Locked up? Wrote:
> >
> --------------------------------------------------
>
> > -----
> > > Where's Eesh?
> >
> >
> > Matter of public record: eesh filed a
> protective
> > order on Misery, it was rejected on Monday.
> >
> > People knew this, right?
> >
> > To answer your question...no way to spin this
> > loss, suppose he decided it best to lay low
> hoping
> > no one would notice.
>
>
>
This does appear to be bullshit. No record of such a filing.

However, the trial is scheduled for January 11, 2016.

You can't look up something like that

pH9PN Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> You can't look up something like that

Sigh. Yes you can:


http://www.fairfaxcounty.gov/courts/circuit/cpan.htm

You just need an account.

Re: Proceedings in the Case of Misery v. Eesh
Posted by: eesh ()
Date: March 13, 2015 11:07PM

...speaking of that, Mr. Misery's behavior in front of the Henrico judge for my permanent protective order hearing is a definite predictor of future behavior. I just don't know how the plaintiffs will be able to handle going before a court and explaining in detail what has supposedly happened to them. So short sighted.

If you can look everything up and have an account why don't you post a screen cap of the trial date?

Eesh lied? Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Re: Proceedings in the Case of Misery v. Eesh
> Posted by: eesh ()
> Date: March 13, 2015 11:07PM
>
> ...speaking of that, Mr. Misery's behavior in
> front of the Henrico judge for my permanent
> protective order hearing is a definite
> predictor of future behavior. I just don't know
> how the plaintiffs will be able to handle going
> before a court and explaining in detail what has
> supposedly happened to them. So short sighted.


It was DISMISSED, REJECTED, KICKED THE F OUT, and eesh was reamed out in the process. There you go. For the record. I'm not going to look up the records. You do that if you want. He lost a major battle Monday. Not referring to civil suit.

And how do you know this?

Who are you? Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> And how do you know this?


Because I stood three feet from him, next to my attorney, and saw it happen. I'm tired of the lies and twisting of facts. This is the one and only time I'm going to go on record as myself to represent a court proceeding as it actually happened. You all may go back to twisting and misrepresenting the truth....if it makes you happy in your little kingdom of dirt. In a courtroom, unfortunately, you can't "troll" a judge. Sorry.

jimmylegs Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Who are you? Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > And how do you know this?
>
>
> Because I stood three feet from him, next to my
> attorney, and saw it happen. I'm tired of the lies
> and twisting of facts. This is the one and only
> time I'm going to go on record as myself to
> represent a court proceeding as it actually
> happened. You all may go back to twisting and
> misrepresenting the truth....if it makes you happy
> in your little kingdom of dirt. In a courtroom,
> unfortunately, you can't "troll" a judge. Sorry.


So you have been posting

CourthouseObserver Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
>
>
> Someone who I assumed was Misery was there, as
> well, sitting by himself dressed much more
> casually.
>


That would have been me actually. I am a friend to a poster here eesh has victimized as well. I went to gather information and understand how the proceedings work. I will be there for every court date in this trial.

So now there were two people there?

jimmylegs Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Who are you? Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > And how do you know this?
>
>
> Because I stood three feet from him, next to my
> attorney, and saw it happen. I'm tired of the lies
> and twisting of facts. This is the one and only
> time I'm going to go on record as myself to
> represent a court proceeding as it actually
> happened. You all may go back to twisting and
> misrepresenting the truth....if it makes you happy
> in your little kingdom of dirt. In a courtroom,
> unfortunately, you can't "troll" a judge. Sorry.

BAM!

That's awesome! Good for you, MIZ! This will help your civil suit EVEN MORE!

jimmylegs Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Who are you? Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > And how do you know this?
>
>
> Because I stood three feet from him, next to my
> attorney, and saw it happen. I'm tired of the lies
> and twisting of facts. This is the one and only
> time I'm going to go on record as myself to
> represent a court proceeding as it actually
> happened. You all may go back to twisting and
> misrepresenting the truth....if it makes you happy
> in your little kingdom of dirt. In a courtroom,
> unfortunately, you can't "troll" a judge. Sorry.


so those private messages megan sent really were from miz..

I was there too. Megan wanted to go, but her PTSD flared and asked if I would go.

I sat in the front row. I am a private investigator employed by Nick the meeper. Believe me when I say I took serious notes on the proceedings and mailed them to the Washington Post.

I sat in the second row to the far left. I am a certified court room drawer and sketchologist. I will post my sketches at an appropriate Tim.

"Little kingdom of dirt" that you put the most filth into..

I stood up in the back. I am an associate of Radiophile's. He is terrified everywhere he goes because of his outing. I took notes and have blogged extensively about the proceedings.

WHO THE FUCK IS JIMMY!?

I sat third row three feet from eesh. I have a photographic memory and used adobe illustrator to recreate the scenes of the courtroom.

WHO THE FUCK?! Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> WHO THE FUCK IS JIMMY!?


William Moreno aka Mr. Misery.

jimmy misery Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> WHO THE FUCK?! Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > WHO THE FUCK IS JIMMY!?
>
>
> William Moreno aka Mr. Misery.

mind is totally blown.
Attachments:

good, so now eesh will have lost another battle and it has been confirmed by someone actually there

eesh - 0
miz - 1

by the end:

eesh - 0
miz - 2
miz family - guesstimate of $150,000

I was the bailiff. I fell asleep.

jimmylegs Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Who are you? Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > And how do you know this?
>
>
> Because I stood three feet from him, next to my
> attorney, and saw it happen. I'm tired of the lies
> and twisting of facts. This is the one and only
> time I'm going to go on record as myself to
> represent a court proceeding as it actually
> happened. You all may go back to twisting and
> misrepresenting the truth....if it makes you happy
> in your little kingdom of dirt. In a courtroom,
> unfortunately, you can't "troll" a judge. Sorry.

While I was never a fan of your posts, I hope you do win. Eesh took it way too far on multiple occasions.

Good luck

Is that why eesh has stopped posting? Or did he lawyer up?

eesh Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> This might be a good thread to post this in as
> there seem to be some posters with legal
> experience here.
>
>
> Does anyone have experience with the Witness
> Assistance Program and VINE? Seems like a good
> program, I might check it out. VINE looks
> especially helpful.
>
>
> #refusingtobeavictim #helpisoutthere #justice
>
> src="http://www.fairfaxunderground.com/forum/file.
> php?40,file=179326,filename=1.jpg">
>
>
> src="http://www.fairfaxunderground.com/forum/file.
> php?40,file=179327,filename=Scan0002.jpg">
>
>
> src="http://www.fairfaxunderground.com/forum/file.
> php?40,file=179328,filename=3.jpg">


Did they bring this post up in court? Eesh showing all of FFXU that getting a protective order is just game so he can act like a victim.

Hey misery Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> eesh Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > This might be a good thread to post this in as
> > there seem to be some posters with legal
> > experience here.
> >
> >
> > Does anyone have experience with the Witness
> > Assistance Program and VINE? Seems like a good
> > program, I might check it out. VINE looks
> > especially helpful.
> >
> >
> > #refusingtobeavictim #helpisoutthere #justice
> >
> > >
> src="http://www.fairfaxunderground.com/forum/file.
>
> > php?40,file=179326,filename=1.jpg">
> >
> >
> > >
> src="http://www.fairfaxunderground.com/forum/file.
>
> > php?40,file=179327,filename=Scan0002.jpg">
> >
> >
> > >
> src="http://www.fairfaxunderground.com/forum/file.
>
> > php?40,file=179328,filename=3.jpg">
>
>
> Did they bring this post up in court? Eesh showing
> all of FFXU that getting a protective order is
> just game so he can act like a victim.


Nothing was brought up except the petitioner's basis for requesting the protective order. The judge categorically questioned, doubted, and ultimately rejected what was presented. It was over within 10 minutes. VINE was not especially helpful.

> Nothing was brought up except the petitioner's
> basis for requesting the protective order. The
> judge categorically questioned, doubted, and
> ultimately rejected what was presented. It was
> over within 10 minutes. VINE was not especially
> helpful.


Hey FFXU, he is lying! That didn't happen! He is just a troll.

Believe me, believe me, don't believe him!!!!!!!!!!! I swear that's not what happened, that guy is the lamb center poster, he is just lying. Once I get out of the shower I'll show you the evidence.

"Nothing was brought up except the petitioner's basis for requesting the protective order"



--
Which was what?

Umhh6 Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> "Nothing was brought up except the petitioner's
> basis for requesting the protective order"
>
>
>
> --
> Which was what?


Probably some Fagcity99 posts eesh has been babbling about for the past two years

MIZ > EESH Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Umhh6 Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > "Nothing was brought up except the petitioner's
> > basis for requesting the protective order"
> >
> >
> >
> > --
> > Which was what?
>
>
> Probably some Fagcity99 posts eesh has been
> babbling about for the past two years


If only it were that benign. I'd be happy to tell you what it really was, but only at the appropriate time. Meanwhile, I think he realizes this was his Wile E. Coyote moment...

post one of your satire posts depicting the tale

If I were a representative from the witness assistance program or Vine, I would have serious doubts about the sincerity of someone who would post the details of his "victimization" in such a flip way to a public forum.

Who's Lookin' Out For You? Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> If only it were that benign. I'd be happy to tell
> you what it really was, but only at the
> appropriate time. Meanwhile, I think he realizes
> this was his Wile E. Coyote moment...
Attachments:

Someone been logged in but not posting... Lawyered up maybe?

EmCPH Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> good, so now eesh will have lost another battle
> and it has been confirmed by someone actually
> there
>
> eesh - 0
> miz - 1
>
> by the end:
>
> eesh - 0
> miz - 2
> miz family - guesstimate of $150,000

There shouldn't even be a civil trial, IMO and I am just a guy watching from the stands.
This kind of thing is really dumb. If someone is in fear of their safety, they file a restraining order .. period. No contact. If the person who filed continually puts themselves in remote contact via a forum, then that should be THEIR problem.
Awarding money for any of this kind of thing seems to be outlandish IMO.

150K!! .. if the judge is high on crack, perhaps.

How about throwing the suit out and stop wasting tax dollars and time on this nonsense?

Did you even read the lawsuit?

n9McL Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Did you even read the lawsuit?


Moreno said it was rejected, dismissed, throw the fuck out earlier this week.

eeshs case AGAINST miz was thrown out

mizs case against eesh is still going, eesh fucked up and has a couple of days to get his shit together, per the judge

mizs families case against eesh is still to come and WILL end up with eesh losing and owing a shitload of money

you are that same person who was trolling megan before..don't you have anything better to do than scream that "nothing" is ever going to happen here?

The Four Stages of Cruelty is a series of four printed engravings published by English artist William Hogarth in 1751.

In 2012, when Fairfax Underground was launched, small acts of cruelty very slowly began to escalate...until we, dear reader, found ourselves left with what is before us today. Did it need to come this far? Who is to blame? Did the escalation of events constitute--truly--something "that residents of Fairfax County might find interesting"?

An open question:
----
Attachments:

I am relatively new to this site, but is someone purposely posting junk in this thread in an effort to make it less desirable for readers?

Just to get thing back on track, for those who have not seen the suit...


http://www.fairfaxunderground.com/forum/read/40/1772372/page-1.html

CourthouseObserver Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> I am relatively new to this site

No the hell you're not

> but is someone
> purposely posting junk in this thread in an effort
> to make it less desirable for readers?

They sure are and it's working

https://twitter.com/CyberSafeAdvice/status/560410494213689344

CourthouseObserver Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> I am relatively new to this site, but is someone
> purposely posting junk in this thread in an effort
> to make it less desirable for readers?


CourthouseObserver, if you'd simply take the time to read and observe posts such as the one above the one I'm quoting by you, you might see that it's a criticism of this site and the administrator, who ultimately allowed this suit to come to fruition in the first place. It didn't need to come this far. This is not "junk". You write very well...I'm surprised you would fail to read these posts and fail to read the criticisms therein. This suit did not have to happen....that is the main theme.
/
Attachments:

Nobody cares enough to read all that shit and the simple fact that you compare your life to cartoons and tales from many centuries ago shows that you're detached from reality and should be in a mental ward. Had you left this site when you were banned none of this would have happened. I'm not saying you or especially your family deserved any of that but you just kept coming back for more, like you're doing right now.

Is this really the realm in which you want to live in? Then you made your bed and must lie in it but your family probably wishes you'd stop posting here. You're proving nothing and making no point except that you have a serious issue with this website and look at what it resulted in..

CourthouseObserver Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> I am relatively new to this site, but is someone
> purposely posting junk in this thread in an effort
> to make it less desirable for readers?

If one takes a few minutes to click on a few threads here one will quickly come to the correct conclusion that the vast majority of the "posts" on here are just mindless drival, posted by morons, with IQs that are below room temperature.

Empire of Dirt Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Nobody cares enough to read all that shit and the
> simple fact that you compare your life to cartoons
> and tales from many centuries ago shows that
> you're detached from reality and should be in a
> mental ward. Had you left this site when you were
> banned none of this would have happened. I'm not
> saying you or especially your family deserved any
> of that but you just kept coming back for more,
> like you're doing right now.
>
> Is this really the realm in which you want to live
> in? Then you made your bed and must lie in it but
> your family probably wishes you'd stop posting
> here. You're proving nothing and making no point
> except that you have a serious issue with this
> website and look at what it resulted in..


yes misery why don't you just shut up and get off the site? you say eesh is making a mockery of this but you are too with your pictures and story telling. you have given away details of what really happened in your tales and that's just as bad as what he's doing it. you said some really gross stuff about the molestion of toddles, raping babies and fucking kids and that isn't a good look either. people really believe you have touched kids based on what you yourself have said here..

CourthouseObserver Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Just to get thing back on track, for those who
> have not seen the suit...
>
>
> http://www.fairfaxunderground.com/forum/read/40/17
> 72372/page-1.html


If I were eesh I would have never posted that and acted like I had no idea who the hell any of these people were and that I had never heard of Fairfax Underground and that they had the wrong guy. There's no way to prove who posted what or did what but he already admitted to doing things and that can and will be used against him.

http://www.fairfaxunderground.com/forum/read/40/1775768/1777245.html#msg-1777245

Bruja Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> http://www.fairfaxunderground.com/forum/read/40/17
> 75768/1777245.html#msg-1777245


I knew there was a reason eesh was suddenly kissing lizzie's ass. She's going to get a summons to appear and testify.

If eesh is conntected to the swatting will he go to federal prison?

Plausible Deniability Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> If I were eesh I would have never posted that and
> acted like I had no idea who the hell any of these
> people were and that I had never heard of Fairfax
> Underground and that they had the wrong guy.


This assumes that the "lawsuit" (lawlsuit ?) was not worked out in cooperation between Miz and eesh to catch the real villian, their mutual enemy. . . . . . Eli.

http://www.fairfaxunderground.com/forum/read/40/1707080/1707080.html#msg-1707080

Knew it Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> If eesh is conntected to the swatting will he go
> to federal prison?


how are you going to prove that beyond a reasonable doubt?

lol..............

eesh someone would never have done it unless he was sure it was a "perfect crime"...









PS:

What eesh someone wishes had happened:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cOfJcYUlqjo















Attachments:
"A word is not a crystal, transparent and unchanged, it is the skin of a living thought and may vary greatly in color and content according to the circumstances and the time in which it is used." - Cary (explaining his definition of the word "garbage")

Knew it Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Bruja Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> >
> http://www.fairfaxunderground.com/forum/read/40/17
>
> > 75768/1777245.html#msg-1777245
>
>
> I knew there was a reason eesh was suddenly
> kissing lizzie's ass. She's going to get a summons
> to appear and testify.

No she won't. Anything she said would be hearsay which is admissible in court.

Not admissible*

fourIegs Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Plausible Deniability Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > If I were eesh I would have never posted that
> and
> > acted like I had no idea who the hell any of
> these
> > people were and that I had never heard of
> Fairfax
> > Underground and that they had the wrong guy.
>
>
> This assumes that the "lawsuit" (lawlsuit
> ?) was not worked out in cooperation
> between Miz and eesh to catch the real
> villian, their mutual enemy. . . . . .
> Eli.

why are you impersonating fourlegs?



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User Profile : fourIegs
Email: Hidden
Posts: 6
Registered: 02/22/2015 10:41PM

HXHjG Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> pH9PN Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > You can't look up something like that
>
> Sigh. Yes you can:
>
>
> http://www.fairfaxcounty.gov/courts/circuit/cpan.h
> tm
>
> You just need an account.


So you say that you can look up to see if a protective order was filed but you said that no such thing was filed but Misery was it was filed even though it was rejected.

unwelcome houseguest Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Mr. Misery is back! Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > Mr. Misery is back!
>
> "Back" implies that he left at some point.


+2