Unbelievable; over 180+ pages of bandwidth, he has only gotten worse! It's almost not possible for a human being to be this consistently , stupidly narcissistic; to be so thoroughly wrong to his bone marrow on any topic he issues proclamations on; to be caught dead to rights ten thousand fucking times, and insist each time it's not him, it's you who's wrong, and/or reality that's fucked: a Tenth Degree Black Belt in I Know You Are But What Am I-fu. Plus the way he turns into Graham Chapman as Cardinal Fang the first time he says "child" is just pants-pissing GOLD.
My theory on Pauncho Villa (assembled over the course of this dossier - which is utterly invaluable) is that it ain't his wife's money or the govt keeping him afloat: my bet's on his family having money, possibly a generational inheritance, in particular his controlling psycho-analyst mother, which would explain an awful lot - not just his own certifiably demented Bond villain with a BLM sticker personality , but also his lifestyle that never seems to involve work, or worrying about not having work, or the paying of bills in general. In my experience you are either shaped, like it or not, by shouldering this type of mundane but unavoidable toil & responsibility, or you've never had to deal with any of that via the good fortune of winning the Idiots' Lottery of being born into a family of means - which conveniently leaves your schedule clear for 500 tweets a day in which you explain politics, and history, and science, and how everyone but you doesn't get it, to people who never actually asked you fuck-all about any of those topics. I can't see him being a ladykiller oozing so much game that he can charm the 401K out of insecure women facing middle-age with cotton-mouthed desperation, because he's way too obnoxious and insists on doing all the talking, constantly. Plus he's fat and blows a gasket denying it- the man literally has a pig head instead of a regular human face - and....I dunno. Wthout him having plenty of $ of his own to contribute to the billpaying, I can't see even the neediest 40something putting up with more than a few months of Lover Boy getting in Twitter fights at the bar while she's putting in 20 hours of O/T a week to make sure the lights stay on and the Criterion Collection is kept up to date. So it's gotta be his mother - or her inherited money - keeping his chins above water (since we all know that claiming "I'm a wildly successful author of sci-fi paperback originals found in literally hundreds of thousands of homes. Plus I'm pretty much a regular pundit on the NY Times Op-Ed page" is the sort of thing that waves red flags at IRS investigators)
Oh. One other thing. Six, two and even some kid's dog digs up a human finger bone out of his yard one day - and one month, two earthmovers and a 4-man forensic dig team in his basement later, CNN crews will be filming the Feds removing one tiny body bag after another out of dirt holes, from under oddly-loose floorboards and behind hastily-assembled brick and plaster walls, while his traumatized now ex-wife explains again that she hasn't seen Fatrick in months and months, ever since she overheard him shrieking "you will SHUT your FUCKING MOUTH, LITTLE BABY CHILD!!!!" one night from the basement, adding "but he did that constantly - I just assumed he was back on the Twitter again." Because this saga doesn't end without his pig face on an episode of AMERICA'S SICKEST CHILD MURDERERS, in which he's referred to as the millenial Albert Fish.
