Patrick Sean Tomlinson / @stealthygeek / "Torque Wheeler" / @RealAutomanic / Kempesh / Padawan v2.5 - "Conservative" sci-fi author with TDS, armed "drunk with anger management issues" and terminated parental rights, actual tough guy, obese, paid Quasi, paid thousands to be repeatedly unbanned from Twitter

oh boy, he must be a couple of Shlitz's in at this point.
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Another Christmas "incident" so predictable.
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"But Mister Tomlinson," said the flabbergasted worker, "I can literally smell the gas!"

"Wrong again, stalker," replied Patrick, his drunken voice slurring heavily.

The worker took a step back, partly to escape the reek of cheap alcohol, and partly to properly behold the specimen standing before him. Patrick was naked beneath an open bathrobe, his sagging gunt failing to properly hide the abnormally small, faucet-shaped penis that peeked out beneath. In one greasy hand Patrick grasped a phone, his thumb instinctively typing something.

"But what am I smelling then?" the worker replied, secretly regretting taking that overtime.

Patrick's beady eyes glinted. "My wife's negroid boyfriends," he replied. "They're farting in her vagina."

The worker's first thought was that somebody spiked his eggnog. "Black men are farting in your wife's vagina?"

"Wrong again, atalker," Patrick slurred. "Enjoy prison." He turned, slipping on the icy porch and falling forward into his hovel.

As he flailed helplessly on the ground like a greased-up pig, the worker decided he'd seen enough; other people needed help, and watching this man debase himself would eat up too much time. "You have a Merry Christmas, sir," the worker said, turning away.

Patrick squealed something in response, but the worker wasn't paying attention. His mind was on his family- his lovely high school sweetheart and beautiful little girl, Annabelle. Patrick faded from the worker's mind as he pulled himself into his truck and drove into the silent night.

Merry Christmas, one and all! May your holiday be merry, and please eat all the good food you'd like; no matter how much you eat, you'll never be as fat as Patrick!
 
Is it just me or has he not been saying "child" as much anymore? Maybe I'm just out of the loop but it seems like he hasn't. Maybe he realized it was such an ineffective insult, since people were excited when they found the first public instance of him using it.
He only "childs" non-stalker randos who he gets into it with. This is happening less and less cause he turned his replies off, so the only way to get a message from him is to quote tweet him which only the pests will do, and they get "stalkered" not "childed"
 
Robert Prongay Jr, son of Robert "Mr Softee" Prongay, mafia hitman who operated out of an ice cream van.
Anybody that trolls Fatrick on twitter is an alt account of Robert or at least an associate of Robert.
If this sounds like schizophrenic nonsense, you're right, but it's what Fatrick believes.
He was given this information from his ally Fattie Singh, retarded gullible larper that gets fed fail dox hacker, OpSec specialist and doxer
Now that you've explained it so clearly... it makes even less sense. Like wtf man, even Chris Chan knows Clyde Cash isn't real anymore.
 
I don't even know why I bother stating the obvious, but Patrick is lying. As the Pests have shown multiple times, in Wisconsin it is against the law to shut off someone's gas during winter.
Tbf, according to his claims, the gas were shut off due to a reported gas leak. Which sounds like a safety measure.


That winter moratorium seems like it prevents gas companies to stop delivering during winter even if people stop paying their gas bill.


Surely they're allowed to temporarily cut off gas no matter the season if it's needed to do maintenence or avoid danger.
 
Hey everyone,

I’m swinging by to wish the forum Merry Christmas and update on some SFWA/Patrick related episodes. I know KiwiFarms is controversial but I honestly don’t care. You all seemed nice enough to me when I visited.

My Twitter/X account was previously targeted after the last two SFWA episodes. Now that it’s back up I’ll be getting a long episode out in the first quartercovering the SFWA and Patrick extensively. I interviewed Porsalin.

He seemed like a friendly guy and I had a great evening talking to him. I apologize for the delay in those episodes as I know some people from here messaged about them.

Beyond that I hope you’re all enjoying the Christmas season. I hope you spend plenty of time with family. My wife and I are heading to Church here in an hour and if you’re having a bad time this season message me and I’ll include you in my prayers.

- Justin
 
Nikki must be away spending time with her family and this is his way of getting attention. I can imagine him getting drunk and ruminating, and texting her this shit just to really lay it on thick and fuck up her holiday. That’ll show her for still hanging out with people who don’t take him seriously. I bet he got sloshed and started thinkin about how alone he is and how nobody likes him so this is his way of gaining control over his spiraling thoughts.

“This is what they’re doing on Christmas Eve instead of having their own lives, loved ones, and presents to wrap.” lol and instead of having his own life, loved ones, and presents to wrap, he just ran straight to Twitter to make another shitty our stalkers post. It’s Christmas time and he’s just finger wagging at the mysterious “they” again, have some fawkin joy and a cup of cheer pat jeez.
 
"But Mister Tomlinson," said the flabbergasted worker, "I can literally smell the gas!"

"Wrong again, stalker," replied Patrick, his drunken voice slurring heavily.

The worker took a step back, partly to escape the reek of cheap alcohol, and partly to properly behold the specimen standing before him. Patrick was naked beneath an open bathrobe, his sagging gunt failing to properly hide the abnormally small, faucet-shaped penis that peeked out beneath. In one greasy hand Patrick grasped a phone, his thumb instinctively typing something.

"But what am I smelling then?" the worker replied, secretly regretting taking that overtime.

Patrick's beady eyes glinted. "My wife's negroid boyfriends," he replied. "They're farting in her vagina."

The worker's first thought was that somebody spiked his eggnog. "Black men are farting in your wife's vagina?"

"Wrong again, atalker," Patrick slurred. "Enjoy prison." He turned, slipping on the icy porch and falling forward into his hovel.

As he flailed helplessly on the ground like a greased-up pig, the worker decided he'd seen enough; other people needed help, and watching this man debase himself would eat up too much time. "You have a Merry Christmas, sir," the worker said, turning away.

Patrick squealed something in response, but the worker wasn't paying attention. His mind was on his family- his lovely high school sweetheart and beautiful little girl, Annabelle. Patrick faded from the worker's mind as he pulled himself into his truck and drove into the silent night.

Merry Christmas, one and all! May your holiday be merry, and please eat all the good food you'd like; no matter how much you eat, you'll never be as fat as Patrick!
Are we really going to allow this Felony Sides Destruction on Christmas Eve? Nigga, how am I supposed to enjoy prison when I need new ribs?!
 
Ok checking in on him one last time before getting some christmas shuteye aaaaaaaand he is literally spending his entire christmas eve oinking furiously at stalker childs
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I mean say what you like about us degenerates posting her on the farms late on christmas eve, but we are (mostly) just having some light fun in the company of fellow scalliwags for a few brief moments between whatever else we got going on today with IRL friends or family or whatnot

Fatfatfatfatfatfatfat on the other hand is choosing to spend time he could be...oh I dunno....enjoying his wife's strapon company or calling daughter or literally fucking anything halfway worthwhile....solely on sobbing and sharting in impotent rage at twitter trolls laughing at him for being such a retarded failure of a human being

Well...at the very least I hope that this christmas "his" daughter might be blessed not to waste a single stray thought on her simpering piggish queer of a bio father and will be surrounded by the people in her life who actually care about her, and that all of you enjoy yet another day happy you are not Fatrick S Tomlinson
 
Ya see. I'm able to cook and participate in merriment this evening and then check in on the farms when there's a lull in activity, get a quick laugh at Fat, and go back. Fatrick is glued to his phone at the bar dunking on every stalker child. If I had a xitter I'd see if I can't rope someone like Leslie in just to break his fuckin night into further pieces. Could you imagine if he saw Leslie talking about how often authors get debts from trying to stifle criticism (slim to never).

Merry fatmas all and to all an enjoyable prison.
 
Beyond that I hope you’re all enjoying the Christmas season. I hope you spend plenty of time with family. My wife and I are heading to Church here in an hour and if you’re having a bad time this season message me and I’ll include you in my prayers.
Merry Christmas to you and your wife. Thanks for your work putting together your documentaries.

Also, since Patrick won’t remember the reason for the season, enjoy prison stalker child.
 
He did it again. Oopsie doodles
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His second, better debt has broken his brain
What kind of setup does the power company have that Rick would know if someone reported a "power outage"?

What's the harassment here? The power company gets the report, says "nope, powers on, must be mistake" and nothing happens?
 
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