Dear Kate Pendley:I Know Where You Live

Today I found out that my arch nemesis and former best friend Kate Pendley finally did us all a favor and left the state of New Mexico. Good riddance to ya. And while I'd like to tell you where she's moved to, maybe even point out her little bitch cave on a google map, I also found out that Kate won't tell anyone where she's moved to, for fear that I'll find out and track her down.

What a fucking drama queen. I LEFT Santa Fe to avoid seeing her, and I certainly wouldn't ever want to waste any time looking for her. See, when I confront people about the things that piss me off, it's generally in the hopes that we can come to some kind of understanding with one another. Kate Pendley, knowing only lies, deceit, manipulation and playing the gender card to her advantage, is utterly incapable of that kind of relationship, to the grand detriment of all who come into contact with her.

My truly awful experience with this nasty little con artist is well documented on other blogs, (notably here and here.) She befriended me, I got her a gig, she stabbed me in the back, and then with the help of her brain-dead bald-headed cop pal Gardner Finney, got me in a pile of legal hot water over a few marginally threatening e-mails that I still think were well-deserved. Of course, this is the age of alarmist thinking, on everything from terrorism to teen violence to the constant clash over whether or not a woman is a cunning power broker capable of making it in a man's world - or a hapless victim who needs to be protected from scumbags like me. And in the middle of that schism is where Kate Pendley - and lots of women just like her - get to live in this age of confusion over what gender really means.

Kate Pendley taught me just about everything I needed to know about the state of "gender equality" in the real world, about how my penis makes me a bad guy and her pussy makes her a living-on-a-pedestal victim who can send a 'victim's advocate' to introduce lies about me into a court of law. Go ahead - read the links - and ask yourself - if she were a man, or I were a woman, would the Santa Fe Police Department have surrounded my house at 6am on Christmas morning over a 4th degree misdemeanor? I think not.

Kate Pendley taught me as much about using your gender to manipulate the truth as Mexico taught me about paradise - a cheap holiday in other people's misery if ever there was one. And she gets to ride that edge between power-monger and victim until someone says bullshit on that. I say it, and have said it over and over again. And now, thanks to Kate Pendley, everytime I hear about another crime or incident involving a man and a woman, I now generally spring to defend the man - because too many people are far too willing to assume that he's at fault and the woman simply had no agency. Thank you, Kate Pendley, for permanently debasing me of that knee-jerk reaction of the sensitive new age guy that I had for so long in my life.

Good luck in your new pad, Kate - something tells me, however, that it will stink of the very same shit as your last one.