I am like anyone else--I seek out friendship and good company, yearning to surround myself with people who will nurture and respect a healthy, reciprocal relationship in which we support and encourage one another. I am a simple person with simple needs. And yet, I repeatedly find myself falling in with the dregs of society.
It all started with this stupid blog. If I've learned anything about blogging, it's that blogs are a magnet for creeps. Not enough creeps in your life? Start blogging! They'll flock to you in droves, creeps crawling out of the digital woodwork to infect your life and crap all over everything beautiful and peaceful in your world.
(If you read Karlababble.com often, you're wise to my...ahem...literary style, and you know that a paragraph like that last one is always a segue to a story involving Common Wombat. So let's get on with it, then.)
Wombat is someone I met through this blog. Heedlessly ignoring all the warnings in the media about meeting and befriending people on the internet, I welcomed this stranger into my life a couple of years ago. Since then, he has rained destruction and mayhem on my life, but my stubborn faith in the basic goodness of humanity has prevented me from casting him aside. I have continued to try to reach out to this mongrel and show him some human kindness that I think must have been lacking in his life for so long, making him into the savage he is.
It was in the spirit of friendship that I sent my supposed friend Wombat the following picture message from my cell phone one day as I was sitting at a stoplight:






This kind of unprovoked viciousness is not something I can easily understand. I know that ugly and terrible things happen every day in this world--it's just hard to understand when they happen to good people.
I'm sure the villainous Wombat and his malevolent friend Paul are sitting in their dungeon in Baltimore, cackling away at my pain. I can't begin to understand how they can derive joy from the suffering of others, but maybe that's a mystery I'll never be able to unravel. I'll just have to continue on with my simple life--doing charity work for the sick, helping the elderly cross the street, cooking food for the hungry, etc.--while the evildoers in the world continue on with the work of Satan. I refuse to let these attacks turn me into a bitter, fearful person. I still believe that goodness will triumph after all.