Creepy voicemail of the year

Go to the authorities. I'm serious. You don't have to put up with that. This cretin has crossed a line.

 

ok, if you haven't already, call the guy at about 11 p.m. on a weeknight, probably on hump night when you know he's had 12-15 mickey's, tell him who you are and demand to know where he lives. show up at his place around midnight, referring to him all the while as mr. girly vaginal cavity, and then get in his grill and tell him you know he doesn't have the sack to pull shit or you'll pummel his stupid white-trash ass into the floor of the trailer in which he lives ... then urinate on his foot while calling his one-toothed wife a 5-buck crack whore.

really, i think that'll smooth shit out.

 

Looks like Starman has competition.

 

I never heard of any parents acting like that. I'll bet this guy would stand out in a game crowd ... ;D

 

I'd make my SE, ME and publisher aware of the situation and see if there is a policy regarding these types of calls, let them handle it. That's why they get paid the big bucks. Chances are the news department has gotten calls far more threatening. Chances are, the extent of his action was left in the voice mail. However, I'd still park in well lit areas when going to cover that team.

 

I like the where you're going TP. But I'd refer to him as a Mr. No Talent Ass-Clown Living Out His Athletic Fantasies Through His Children.

 

I'd put an audio stream of the voice mail on your paper's website.

 

and maybe pimp smack his 5-dollar crak whore bitch wife.

 

are the daughters hot at all?

 

honestly guys, ass clown and fucktard ... two words i've added to my vernacular that were worth the price of admission. even though i've read 'em for a while now, every time i see them used in proper context i have to smile.

god bless us all bitter, bitter sports hacks.

 

That is for your editor or publisher to handle. If someone is that mad at me, I'd rather leave that to the higher-ups. That's why they draw those big pay checks.

And for threats, thank God for the 2nd Amendment. Or at least a nice aluminum baseball bat.

 

A guy once came into my office complaining about some kind of minor deal, started yelling, then left in a huff. A woman at the front desk, who had heard the whole thing, thanked him for coming in as he left. It was a beautiful thing.