To the kid who knows who he is:

I’m fine, thanks for asking, and I enjoyed your friendly email very much.

You’re defending your dad; that's commendable, honorable. Under normal circumstances, I would have just ignored you, and that would be the end of it. But in the midst of your temper tantrum you wrote this:

…ima tell you one time delete that fucking blog, or I promise you I'll find your deformed ugly duckling looking ass and hunny that's a Fuck promise…

I will not delete this fucking blog. I will not delete one goddamn word.

Your father, who is by all evidence a grown-ass man, chose to comment here. He came into my virtual house and basically shit all over my digital carpet. Go ahead and read over my replies to him. I did not insult him, I did not call him names, and I did not impugn his reputation or skills as a rapper. I dissected what he said and showed that his argument was factually weak and emotional; I did it quietly, and more respectfully than most people would have.

As far as I can tell, he took it like an adult and decided it wasn’t worth his time to come back.

Now, I imagine most people reading this will understand that you were trying to defend your dad; I think they’ll respect that. Here’s what I’m going to do. As you may have noticed, I haven’t mentioned his name one time in this post. Let me explain why. If you Google his rap name, the blog post I wrote using his words comes up near the bottom of the first page. If you leave it alone, I have no reason to ever mention him again. Eventually my page will drop lower and lower on the Google rankings, until it won’t come up on a casual search. I have no control over this, it’s just how Google works.

However, continue to send me letters, continue to threaten me, and I will continue to write about it. Eventually, his name will have more hits on this blog than anywhere else, and whenever someone searches for information about him, this blog’s going to be one of the first things they see. Again, I have no control over this. It’s the magic of fucking Google.

So, the ball is all yours. Take it and go home.