Dear God, what hath I wrought?

I know I said I was bored with this whole Diamond Dave thing in the last post, but seriously, what the fuck else is there to do on a Friday afternoon? I just got a nice pair of missives in my inbox. First this:

_guess what im all most at your house.
this joke is on you.
and we I see you had to tell the police about your jokes.
the laugh is on you hwhehehwhw
im not laughing. see you in about 3 hours its a red eyed flight. cant wait to see you.
i know everything about you.
hhhhaaahhhahhaaa not laughing

_

Then this:

_ps on the internet there has been folks even killed.
its a shame.that’s a bloody shame.
look it up if you don’t believe me.
hhhhaaahhha im no game.
you might have.
this I can laugh hhhhohhaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh

_So, I guess if I don’t post tomorrow, you might want to go to the Statesman-Journal site, hit the police blotter, and see if there’s something like “Local Man Inexplicably Attacked By Belizian Cyber-Ninjas!” or that ilk. Dave is no game, after all. I mean, fuck. Three hours from Belize City to Mill City? That’s, like, really fucking fast. I dig that about him. He really is full of techno!

Quite frankly, it’s kind of a let-down that he’s sending this bullshit. I really would like to be there when he tried to explain to Barney Fife and his little buddies (I live in an extremely small town) what the purpose of his visit was. They’d be, like, “okay. Where’s the meth lab?”