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Hello Mr. Swingerofbirches (I would have PM-ed this missive, but you're still too n00b).
Welp, buddy, you really fucked up this time. Did you think just because I've retired that I don't still have connections in NASA? Think again. In fact, I'm watching you even as you read this postie. We have some very, very powerful sekrit technology that even if I told you that if I told you, I'd have to kill you, I'd have to kill you. Wait. I did just tell you that if I told you... ummm... Never mind. I'll give you a bye on this one.
Ennywaze, in re, regarding to, as pertains, reference the recent incendiary device you betook to bestow upon me: Did you not think there would be consequences for such a heinous action? The ol' "No Good Deed Goes Unpunished" principle? Well, I'm here to tell you, pal, you can just start to sleep with one eye open. Hell, might as well keep BOTH eyes open, 'cause retribution cometh, I assure you.
Here I am, poor old sod just minding my own business, miserable in having 9 (count 'em: NINE) rather substantial humidorii stuffed with fine puros and four more boxes sitting around waiting for space, doing my best to offload some of my surplus stogies since I became a little OCD about the damn things and went a tad overboard and just as I'm finally starting to make some inroads on my overflowething cup, as it were, what arrives mysteriously in the post? Why, you know damn well: A FUCKING CIGAR BOMBING of 7 (count 'em: SEVEN!) completely new stogies! From a complete stranger no less! So now I've got to enter them into my database (I mentioned the OCD thingie, right?) and get pictures of the seegars and bands and information on the wrappers... we're talking a couple hours here. Hours of my life I will never see again. And, at my age, this could be some critical time that I could have been spending sitting outside smoking the aforementioned stogies and mayhap slurping on a favorite libation whilst playing Go on the laptop. But noooooooo... Instead I've got to completely rearrange my logistical hierarchy in order to accomodate an unsolicited interruption. So, be afraid. Be very afraid. You made the critical mistake of identifying yourself with a return address so that I now know where you live. It could happen any time of the night or day. Mayhap whilst you're comfortably seated on "the throne" reading a back issue of Alfalfa Sprout Sculpture Monthly. Or making yourself a peanut butter and anchovy sammitch on pumpernickel. Or even as you prepare to surprise your wife with your new French Maid Ensemble for the Modern Man. You just never know. You will have to be constantly wary, for I will retalliate! Of this you can be most assured. No one expects the Spanish Inquisition! No, wait. Wrong. That's a whole 'nother thing. Never mind. Where was I? Oh, yes... I hope you live in a house from the 60's when everyone was building bomb shelters on accounta we were sure those fucking Russkies were going to nuke us because that's about the only place that will still be intact when the strike comes. Afghanistan, Iraq, Turkmenistan will all be relegated to the back pages of the classifieds behind the listing for "WANTED: 2-4 year-old, cream colored, llama with good disposition, must be compatible with platypus-giraffe cross female, and not too ugly" after my fussilade is done with you.
You just picked the wrong damn rokkit scientist to fuck with, buddy.
You have been warned.
Welp, buddy, you really fucked up this time. Did you think just because I've retired that I don't still have connections in NASA? Think again. In fact, I'm watching you even as you read this postie. We have some very, very powerful sekrit technology that even if I told you that if I told you, I'd have to kill you, I'd have to kill you. Wait. I did just tell you that if I told you... ummm... Never mind. I'll give you a bye on this one.
Ennywaze, in re, regarding to, as pertains, reference the recent incendiary device you betook to bestow upon me: Did you not think there would be consequences for such a heinous action? The ol' "No Good Deed Goes Unpunished" principle? Well, I'm here to tell you, pal, you can just start to sleep with one eye open. Hell, might as well keep BOTH eyes open, 'cause retribution cometh, I assure you.
Here I am, poor old sod just minding my own business, miserable in having 9 (count 'em: NINE) rather substantial humidorii stuffed with fine puros and four more boxes sitting around waiting for space, doing my best to offload some of my surplus stogies since I became a little OCD about the damn things and went a tad overboard and just as I'm finally starting to make some inroads on my overflowething cup, as it were, what arrives mysteriously in the post? Why, you know damn well: A FUCKING CIGAR BOMBING of 7 (count 'em: SEVEN!) completely new stogies! From a complete stranger no less! So now I've got to enter them into my database (I mentioned the OCD thingie, right?) and get pictures of the seegars and bands and information on the wrappers... we're talking a couple hours here. Hours of my life I will never see again. And, at my age, this could be some critical time that I could have been spending sitting outside smoking the aforementioned stogies and mayhap slurping on a favorite libation whilst playing Go on the laptop. But noooooooo... Instead I've got to completely rearrange my logistical hierarchy in order to accomodate an unsolicited interruption. So, be afraid. Be very afraid. You made the critical mistake of identifying yourself with a return address so that I now know where you live. It could happen any time of the night or day. Mayhap whilst you're comfortably seated on "the throne" reading a back issue of Alfalfa Sprout Sculpture Monthly. Or making yourself a peanut butter and anchovy sammitch on pumpernickel. Or even as you prepare to surprise your wife with your new French Maid Ensemble for the Modern Man. You just never know. You will have to be constantly wary, for I will retalliate! Of this you can be most assured. No one expects the Spanish Inquisition! No, wait. Wrong. That's a whole 'nother thing. Never mind. Where was I? Oh, yes... I hope you live in a house from the 60's when everyone was building bomb shelters on accounta we were sure those fucking Russkies were going to nuke us because that's about the only place that will still be intact when the strike comes. Afghanistan, Iraq, Turkmenistan will all be relegated to the back pages of the classifieds behind the listing for "WANTED: 2-4 year-old, cream colored, llama with good disposition, must be compatible with platypus-giraffe cross female, and not too ugly" after my fussilade is done with you.
You just picked the wrong damn rokkit scientist to fuck with, buddy.
You have been warned.
), and I in no way think that the escalation of friendly hostilities (lol) is necessary ... as a man I cannot throw myself on the mercy of another. 
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