THACKER; AKA BLACK SNAKE

I was one of those kids who spent his days in the woods turning over logs to catch, examine and release whatever was under them. I learned snakes were divided between pit vipers and sight strikers. Pit vipers sensing warm blooded prey and sight strikers being pretty self explanitory. A neighbor had a profound observation about "crazy lady". Whenever she slithers out of her landfill of a home, the first neighbor she sees becomes the stalker du jour. You're simply engaged in one of life's mundane tasks (raking leaves, getting the mail, walking the dog) and the next thing you know she sight strikes like our most common urban snake. But the similarity ends there. Whereas the black racer provides a valuable service in keeping us from being up to our butts in rodents, Thacker just spews shit while collecting a disability check. Now if they gave those checks for being fat, ugly and disgusting she would surely qualify for one that would allow her to take up residence in a much nicer neighborhood, but in her case the check is for being...duh...craaaaaaaaaaaazy.

THACKER'S CHRISTMAS CAROL

We extended the olive branch through this blog, but  "crazy lady" won't accept it. Thus, in the spirit of the holiday, we figured what her self penned Christmas carol might be. Sing this to the tune of "Silver Bells"

city street walkers, little rap talkers and the narco squad too
we all get together for Christmas
children laughing, people passing and they're all stalking me
do they know i'm completely insane?

lock your doors, run the whores, it's Christmas time in the springs
ring-aling, hear them sing, soon they will take me away
what I'm needing is a quiet place with soft padded walls
where firemen and policemen can't find me
they're all looking, they're all searching and they're all stalking me
do they know I'm completely insane?

write those checks, what the heck,who cares I don't have the money
I like to lie about peoples faults, but I'm the biggest hypocrite of all

THACKER'S HAPPY THANKSGIVING MESSAGE

It seems everyone in the neighborhood had a great Thanksgiving holiday as I hope all of you did. Whoops... there was one exception. We returned home from visiting friends and family only to discover that Laura Marie Thacker of Arden Av, Tampa had spent the holiday spitting venom from her blog, TAMPA'S BACK DOOR WAYS. We can only surmise that as the "crazy sheep" of the family she wasn't invited by her "cuz" or any of the other imaginary family she claims to be so close to. We're sure any normal ones disavowed any relationship to this fruitcake long ago. Anyway, old folks like us are set in our ways and not into change so it was reasuring to find out that we're all still murdering, stalking, crack smoking, meth snorting (is that how you do meth?), biker scum, pimps, and that all local law enforcement and fire protection is on the road to perdition.
We're considering putting this blog to bed. There is the nagging afterthought that it is moraly unconscionable to make fun of the mentally ill. It's just that Thacker blurrs the line with the bile of her personal attacks. We'll sleep on it awhile and hope she gets the professional help she so desperately needs.

A DAY IN THE LIFE; LAURA MARIE THACKER

DISCLAIMER; This document is based on casual observations and speculation. During the creation of this document no stalking took place, no puppies were kicked, no children were shot at, no wives or girlfriends were forced into prostitution, only legal drugs were ingested (i.e. lotsa Pabst Blue Ribbon). Any correspondense concerning defamation, liability or beastiality should be sent to the author's legal counsel; Beagle, Beagle, Flywheel and Beagle P.A. 1313 Lucky St. Fockinyatz, Wisconsin.

6 AM clock radio clicks on, permenently tuned to station that plays Buffalo Springfield's For what it's worth "PARANOIA STRIKES DEEP, INTO YOUR LIFE IT WILL CREEP.....
6:05 listen for sounds on roof, loud sounds Tampa firemen (fatasses), light sounds Pasco firemen (little skinny guys) but maybe sometimes they work together, Pasco pouring acid on shingles, Tampa pumping benzene into my water meter. I bet mayor Pam is over there watching from fatass Scott's crackhouse just loving all this.
6:09 look out front window to make sure Claudio hasn't killed my dog (author's note, if the little SOB keeps barking at 4AM there may be grounds here)
6:14 consume breakfast (2 cups of delusion, 1 bowl of hallucination)
6:30 slightly open door making sure rabid UPS man Jerry is not poised with huge brown truck to crush me
6:34 look under grey Jeep Cherokee to see if Colin's IRA thugs planted ignition bomb. After all, they are the wee people and could easily slip under.
6:39 drive around the block to see if I can catch Keller red handed rounding up the neighborhood women after they spent the night on Nebraska Av and splitting the profits with Sgt. Mumford.
6:44 start driving to Pinellas libraries for free computer time to write garbage because Hillsborough kicked me out.
6:56 I-275 take pictures of stalkers all around me. green car in left lane (IRA) Tome's around here somewhere, I just know it, red P/U behind me, GD firemen again, head swiveling, camera clicking, semi slams on brakes in front of me.......
MORAL OF STORY; Laura, get help!

THACKER; A TURD THAT JUST WON'T FLUSH

A brilliant Brit named John Crapper invented what is arguably the most important facility of the modern home, and yet how do we honor this genius's accomplishment? We disparage him by taking a, well you know. Although this won't undo the injustice to Mr. Crapper, I suggest that when his invention fails to complete it's duty on the first flush, we refer to the fecal matter remaining as a "THACKER". Cyberspace has been unable to flush the putrid, paranoid rants of Laura Marie Thacker of Arden Av. Tampa and her conspiracy blog, TAMPA'S BACK DOOR WAYS.
Once a week we old folks in the Tampa neighborhood where this witch lives check the blog and our emotions vacillate between pity and humor. You would think that the "sow of Sulphur Springs" would catch on that she should stop trashing the neighbors that barely recognize her existence. She's referred to around here as the "crazy lady", the strange, angry, insignificant whacko that lives in the dump.
So remember, tomorrow morning when that bowl of Cheerios kicks in, make sure you havn't left any little thackers.

THACKER'S SPOUTING AND SHE CAN'T SHUT UP

Just as the Deep Water Horizon spewed black filth into the gulf, Laura Marie Thacker does the blogging version on the Internet. What a nicer planet it would be if we could pour mud and concrete down the throat of this sow and perform a "top kill". Look up TAMPA'S BACK DOOR WAYS to see what happens when mental illness meets the 1st amendment.
There is nothing this miscreant doesn't hate, trashing everyone and every institution, never a suggestion of how to bring about positive change, just bitching, whining and vicious personal attacks like you'd expect from a paranoid loser. She claims to be stalked by individuals, government entities, little green men etc., but has she ever considered that as a butt ugly, fat, middle-aged skank she ain't exactly stalking material. She claims that dark forces are trying to steal her house but if you ever saw the rat trap on Arden Av., Tampa you'd realize it would be refused by quake ravaged Haitians

This disgusting vermin has ostrasized herself within her own neighborhood to the extent that she could be lying in the street injured and not a neighbor would lift a finger. What a sad, lonely mess she is, and all of it self inflicted.

LAURA MARIE THACKER; LIFE IMPROVEMENT STRATEGY

To; Laura
From; Scott,Jose,Mike,Darrell,Peter,John,Colin,fire station 11 TFD

Contrary to what you may think, your neighbors in Sulphur Springs, Tampa really do care about you despite the nasty, loathsome lies you print about us, thus we gathered to brainstorm ways for you to help yourself. The consensus for the first idea was unanimous until we discovered that a lobotomy is no longer a common practice. Following are the other suggestions:

1. A good shrink could make those voices in your head go away.
2. Please, oh please take a creative writting course. Try to use the F word less than 6 times each blog.
3. Take the British flag down. There's a rumor that they're sending their marines to retrieve it because they don't want to be associated with your loony ass.
4. Pray that your house never lights up. The boys at station 11 may just have mechanical problems with the fire engine that day.
5. Lose 40 pounds and get a makeover; fat, ugly and crazy is no way to go through life