Complaint Review: Kashta Eneas Esq. - San Bernardino California

Upon further review, it must be noted that nothing said in the previous report that COULD be substantiated was actually illegal. Mr. E did NOT give my location to anyone else, nor did he try to, as he does not in fact have an exact location on me. In preparation for a future law suit last december, he did however find 4 possible addresses for me despite my attempts to keep all such information private.

The original report was made because I was angry. Mr. E and I used to share the hobby of sound engineering, which created revenue for me. (It's my profession and he would bring me clients; people who wanted to make strides in music or voice over work). Things soured, we went our separate ways. Then someone pops up online as an0nhunter on rapmusic.com and says things that I mistook to be about me in a way they likely were not. I jumped to the conclusion that it was Mr. Eneas. With no further attempt to verify this information (a simple ip address check would have done it) I made it my entire mission to target Mr. Eneas on that site and elsewhere, defaming his name everywhere imaginable, even this site. I thought I was within my legal bounds. The problem I run into is that Mr. Eneas actually is a lawyer by trade.

I made it my point to attack other members of a site he frequents if those people were in any way affiliated with Mr. Eneas, hoping it would get a rise out of him and leave me an exploit to attack. When it all came to a head, Mr. Eneas expressed an interest in suing me last december for harassment. I decided to unleash a crapstorm against him online, including this original report. Mr. Eneas seemed remarkably calm, considering the original post he made against me as an0nhunter, so I decided to after two years do an ip check on that screen name. Lo and behold, I've been wrongfully attacking and defaming Mr. Eneas for two years on the internet. The actual identity was ironically someone else entirely. Mr. Eneas had actually done nothing wrong. Unfortunately, I defamed him all over the web, and using my knowledge of coding and google cache, I made it so that in searching his rather unique given name, many untruths were "discoverable". I lied and said he was (a) unethical in his profession, (b) a drug addict, and (c) bad at photoshop. (I know, petty).

No one has threatened to kill me. No one has gotten any information out of Mr. Eneas to come do me any harm (though many have tried to pay him for the information, he says he refuses to do so).

I know this leaves me legally liable in civil court for probably a lot of things including defamation. In attempts to try to make right, I have given Mr. Eneas the log in for this report. However, if any actual harm comes to Mr. Eneas as a result of this rash behavior, I know that no apology absolves me from such legal liability. We just both want this to go away.

I remember it was the summer '06. Some friends and I had been on the road for a couple of weeks. Just travelling around, little bit of a road trip. Stopping off where we felt. Going to lots of pubs, clubs, parties, etc. Anyway one night we set out from our motel room to go to a nearby bar. We get there and it's fairly quiet. We had a few drinks but decided it was kinda boring and we were going to find some place else to drink for the night. Then just as we're leaving, she caught my eye. Across the room was the most beautiful truck I've ever seen. 87 model, was wearing a 200 gallon mixer tank, you know the kind. She had tyres that went on for days. A part of me was ready to leave already. But a part of me knew that if I didn't at least talk to her I'd regret it. I downed the last of my drink to get a little Dutch courage, then I made my move. I walked up to her and said, "Hi." Girls like this usually don't give me the time of day. But something was different this time. I don't know what it it was, if she was in a different mood cos she was on holidays, too, or if I was just in the zone that night or what. But much to my surprise she was totally into me. Every smile was met with a flash of her headlights, every joke was met with a honk of her horn. She was into me, it was time to close it. "Would you like to join me at my room?" I really had gone too far ths time. But instead I hear, "Sure, let's go." I couldn't believe it. It was on. The sexiest truck I've ever seen and she wants to have sex with me! Unbelievable! We get back to my room, make out for a while then made passionate love. The next day she headed off back home to work in a strip mine. She gave me her email address and we still keep in contact from time to time. But that was the best night of my life and I'll never forget her.

I like to wear a elaborate Jar Jar Binks costume and mask as part of my every day life. I went to the grocery store, and saw how depressed everyone was so I thought I would help. I started dancing in the aisles, and yelling at people, and running up to people and taking things out of their cart. It was great fun. Then when I went to check out, there was only one lane open and a long line. I screamed and screamed while in line and danced, bumping into other people. I opened a box of baking soda and threw it around. Finally I got to the checkout. I started making noises at the cashier, and I kept pressing buttons on the computer. Some people in line were groaning because the line was getting very long, but that gave me even more incentive to make them laugh. I climbed onto the table and started kicking peoples groceries on the floor and singing. The manager and one of his goons pulled me off and said I could never shop there again. Can I sue for harassment or possibly assault?

God is just some guy who bought Sim City and was bored. Some guy sitting at a giant computer is controlling you right now. When you have several decisions going through your head and you don't know which one to pick, God does. "Flirt? Tickle? Entertain?" He decides. You have no say in The Sims. You're just some computer graphic.

That is God.

The very first Communists were early Slavic tribes who owned so little they had to share everything. They were renowned warriors, whose battle tactics consisted of getting as drunk as mortally possible, then drink twice as much more and charge at the enemy wielding a hammer in one hand and a sickle in the other. Even in these early times they were called the Red Army for their red faces (esp. noses). A Communist Warrior was terrible to behold in battle, bashing, slicing, and breathing alcoholic fumes at his enemies. Mortally wounded, he would merely fall asleep at the field of battle, only to wake up the next morning with regenerated limbs, healed wounds and a severe headache.