kinvarp-my evil twin. He doggedly pursues me and nefariously works to make my life a living hell. He looks just like me, except with a mustache and a goatee. That, and a birthmark on his ass shaped like a bat.
Professor Robotor-formerly my college nuclear physics teacher Professor Roberto, until a lab accident fused his body with that of his robotic exoskeleton and drove him dangerously insane. Once every year or so I have to foil his plans for world domination. I get a few months of rest till he inevitabily breaks out of the looney bin.
The Black Hand Clan of the Ninja-which goes without saying. I will not rest until I have my revenge.
Andreas Vollentini-the world believes him to be merely a billionaire italian playboy, but only I know that behind those handsome features lies the evil brain of the Supreme Master of D.O.M.I.N.O., a shadow organization bent on bringing the world’s governments to their knees and overtaking their financial structures.
There’s a couple more, but these are the ones that come to mind off the top of my head.
My ex-husband. If he were’nt such a cowardly worm, he’d certainly push me in front of a bus, and I wouldn’t spit on him if he were on fire unless I was certain it would prolong the agony, that he would burn longer and hotter and more smokily. Then I would most assuredly spit on him, and since fine young ladies do not spit in the streets, so you can see how I would be most reluctant to do so otherwise. But I would spit on my ex-husband in this particular case.
Beyond any and all Communists and Soviet sympathizers?
Just one guy I can think of off my head: one of my predecessors that I had to deal with for over a year at work. This frail, weakly little spineless whelp of a man couldn’t hold two sticks to the wind if he had to try. He would micromanage everything to the point that they gave him an out of the way job so the shop he was running wouldn’t “frag” him.
Imagine “Frank Burns” from MASH**, and that’s the guy. I’m serious. Just like him.
This guy was such an ass, he shredded everything in his desk when he left, destroying any continuity/hiding any evidence he had. Even had the balls to tell me to address him "as Captain in front of the troops. . . "(I was a 2nd Lieutenant, and we were nowhere within earshot of anyone at the time).
Whatta prck. Whatta f**kin’ wimp and a prck.
Tripler
I won’t go further. I get angry just thinking about it. :mad:
The teacher who threw books at me and humiliated me in front of the class when I was 6 years old. I’d love to name her, but I’m not sure about the libel laws…
One of the managers at my former work. I truly hate him, and folks that I have actually gotten so far as “Hating” have a tendency to die, or end up really messed up. This guy harassed me, hounded me, and otherwise made my former work miserable. I hate him with a passion.
Mr. Harold Reed Jr. He lives in Washington. I’ve already made one attempt to kill him… however, his saving grace is that the woman I love doesn’t want me to kill him. That, and the fact that he lives pretty far away these days. He tormented my love when she was a teenager, playing head games to the point where his appearance in a public place with her would lead her to an anxiety attack. She’s better now, but if he were to ever show up here, his visit would be short, brief, and pain filled.
That’s about it, really. There are others I don’t like, or I have problems with, but those 2 are the only ones I would really call “blood enemies”.
About 8th grade there was this kid who just decided to give me a lot of smack. There wasn’t a good reason, I think he just saw that he could get away with it. I really hated him, and had fantasies about him going to hell.
I went to the ten-year HS renunion, and found out that he’d died of cancer already. Wow.
I’d forgotten about him by that time, though.
Then there was another kid who was only an annoyance in 8th grade, and the story I heard was that on the first day of 9th grade he cut a corner in the street while riding his bike home, and was struck head-on by a car. I do know that I never saw him again.
So I think the lesson here is Never Make Me Mad. Hear that, you all?
I take it that you are a norrbagge (norwegian)? :dubious:
And since all the oil you have is rightfully ours and you win all the ski events every norwegian is my blood enemy.
Funny, I was always pissed off at my ex, but since he died, I HATE HIS FUCKING GUTS. Maybe because he ditched all his kids and never had to pay for that bad behavior. I dunno, but I SEETHE WITH RAGE AT THE VERY THOUGHT OF HIM. I have some issues to deal with…
