For a long, long time I've kept my mouth shut for various reasons, on various subjects. My friends and family have been hounded by my ex-wife and ex-mother-in-law, getting emails and phone calls telling all of them I'm a dangerous sexual predator... I've done nothing except try to move on from a failed marriage in 2004 and tried to live my life (except my rants here) in relative obscurity and tried to just get on with my life as best I could, doing what I've always wanted to do. Be a railroad engineer.
As recently as March of this year, a dear friend of mine who's now back in the UK received several emails from a "Ma Gallina" who is otherwise known as my ex-MIL, a one Nancy Vineski. How apt a name. Mother Hen doesn't know Chicken Shit. How do I know this? Well, my dear friend in the UK's family just happens to own a fairly well-off Internet security company and she found out all kinds of spiffy things like emails sent and received, to whom, dates and times from all different email addresses. IP's and URL's, names of actual persons who signed up for email addresses... All kinds of things I, and my attorney was very happy to receive.
I've done absolutely nothing to these people except for time and time again ask them to just leave me, my friends and family alone but they still continue to hound me.
I'm the bad guy because their wonderful daughter, who I was married to for over 7 years, decided that she was tired of me and decided to toss me out like the dirty dishwater. Her dope-smoking, ex-coke-head, defaulting on her student loans daughter. The daughter who failed out of Mansfield University because she was too busy partying, even though she had a full ride thanks to her grandmother. The daughter who I, through the help of my sister got her a job making more than she'd ever made in her life back in Philadelphia. The daughter who had a 425 credit rating when we met who I helped repair with MY money that I was making. I had a 875 Rating at the time.
Well, I was upset for a while, who wouldn't be? But I moved on. In the spring of 2004 I took a job with a railroad contractor out-of-state and was travelling, operating heavy equipment for this company in places like West Virginia, Kentucky and Ohio. Far, far away from Arizona where I still lived. I'd be gone for 6 to 8 weeks at a time, and then home again for 2 weeks.
I'd be home a day or two, and a Deputy Sheriff would be pounding on my door... The charges and claims? I'd vandalized and destroyed the well at our house... I'd come in like a thief in the night and let the horses out of the paddocks... I checked the reports and all the times I was alleged to have done this I was over 2,000 miles away in the east, working. I had airline tickets, motel receipts and pay stubs to prove I was nowhere near the house.
How could I vandalize the house in Arizona and be in West Virgina or Kentucky at the same time?
I couldn't. Unless I've been able to finally figure out how to warp the space~time continuum.
Also, We had put the house up for sale and were going to split the equity. Did that happen? No, of course not. Every time I'd call the Realtor I was told that my ex-wife refused to let her show the house... There had been several offers but I was told she couldn't get into the property, and then I wasn't informed of the offers.
She let the house go into foreclosure, in spite I guess, just so I didn't get half the equity.
$45K down the shitter, on spite.
When after several months of her constant hounding, like getting play-by-play recordings on my voicemail (which my attorney still has along with the phone records) of my ex and her cowboy of the week playing in the bedroom of MY FUCKING HOUSE, I finally decided to pack up what I could fit into my car and head out of Arizona for good.
Unfortunately, I left my old computer with my entire address book intact and then the messages and emails started coming into my friend's and family's in boxes. I lost two really good relationships because of that. Even though I sent several Registered Letters to her attorney asking to be left alone. I didn't show up at the divorce hearings because I figured it was better just to let her have everything and just be left alone. I left Arizona in the Fall of 2004 with what I could fit into a 1994 Ford Taurus, leaving everything else behind. Books, photographs, personal mementos from my childhood. Everything.
One of the things I left there was a 1997 Ford F-250. I gave it to her basically, because without my credit rating at the time we'd have never have been able to afford it and I knew I'd never be able to afford it on the road the way I was at the time. It was still owned by the bank and we were still paying on it. At some point after I left Arizona, she stopped paying on it . How do I know this?
Well, after I left and made my way from Arizona, to West Virginia, then to Florida I spent the summer working on a Railroad in Twin Falls, Idaho... One day there was a knock on the door. It was a repo agent from the bank looking for the F-250! I told them (it was now the summer of 07') I hadn't seen that truck since May of 04'... You know what they told me?
My "ex-wife" told the bank I was the one that had the truck! Nice, honest woman she is, isn't she? She still had the truck, not paying a red cent on it, and told the bank I was the one who had it!
I believe that's called "fraud"
But yet again, I'm the bad guy.
The already mentally-unstable woman I was living with at this point (who, albeit stupidly, I moved back down here to Florida with) was now convinced I was some deranged, psychopath/serial killer/child molester/pedophile because of the bullshit this family told her. I know now this woman found my ex-wife's email address in a really old email of mine and started writing to her without my knowledge... And there's the crux. They fed this already deranged woman a line of bullshit and she took it, hook, line & sinker.
My ex-in-laws still can't leave me alone. No matter where I am or what I do, they're there breathing down my back.
Like I said, I'm the bad guy though.
But the other day I was doing a Google search and found this little tidbit of information and really had to laugh out loud! Check this out:
Read it all. It's a heavy, long read... But that is my wonderful Ex-brother-in-law... Mr. William Stafford, son of Mrs. Nancy Vineski. I wonder how he's enjoying Allenwood Federal Penitentiary? 54 months is a long, long time.
Nice guy to rip off old ladies and shut ins, isn't it? This is the same guy who showed up to my wedding with his 13 YEAR OLD child bride, who instead of staying with her 38 YEAR OLD husband, spent the day playing with my 11 year old niece! Don't believe me? I'll let you talk to my family. They'll tell you exactly what went down the day of my wedding.
The same guy who was kicked out of Annapolis for smoking dope.
The same guy who had an airline pilot's job with a major airline (who I forget which one or I'd name it) but was fired because he had a $200 a day coke habit, never to hold a pilot's license again.
Who at 38 married a 13 year old legally in Pennsylvania, whom I'm pretty sure paid off her parents with a large sum of money to get them to give parental consent.
But time and time again I'm attacked because I'm the bad guy. I'm the child molester. I'm the sex fiend.
But again, Karma is a fickle Bitch and what ever goes around comes around.
Allenwood may only be a minimum security prison, but it's still prison.
Nice guy, ain't he?
You, Mrs. Vineski, are a World Class Hypocrite. Like most self-proclaimed liberals, it's only ok when it's YOUR family or goes along with YOUR skewered beliefs. You've raised two wonderful, thoughtful and honest children, haven't you?
Sometime ask Cathy how many times she would talk to me about Jane dying and how much money she was bound to inherit... She couldn't WAIT until that woman died and she was counting the dollars every day. She would salivate! I used to hear about that daily. How we had to visit her to make sure we got the inheritance. How I would suffer through visits with that insufferable cunt just to make Cathy happy. Ask her why I never saw a dime of the $13K from MY mother's estate. Why I couldn't get home in time to say goodbye to my dying mother because your wonderful wife was to busy running up credit card debt in my name and couldn't afford to let me find out, because she was to busy squirreling away the money to leave me. Oh, and let's not forget the pregnancy and the miscarriage that there was no possible way I could have been the father, because she'd basically cut me off from sex at that point, and was in Atlanta on "Business" the requisite 12 weeks prior to me finding out?
But remember, I'm the bad guy. I'm the terrible monster.
Go ahead and do a Google Search on my name... You all have it. No prison sentences, no sex-offender registries, no nothing. Nada. Nil. Zip. Not even a Goddamn parking ticket.
And some people still wonder why in the world I can be so bitter.
I don't know. You tell me.
Copyright 2009 Thomas J Wolfenden