Open Letter To The Hole In The Head Gang

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Posted by Farid Parhad from ( on Friday, May 16, 2003 at 12:35PM :

Lew Garcia...I will never refer to you as "Chance" sully the memory of John Wayne...youīre more of a Jane Wayne. Iīll call you Brentley...your other pretentious name. The noose is closing in on your scrawny neck. Iīll tell you again, had my son not been in the car Iīd have squashed you like the vermin you are. I gave you, not loaned you, $25,000 to start your horsebackriding business...and you actually thought you were going to cheat me?

You think of yourself as a dying breed of Western said just give you a horse and the open range and you can outrun anybody...As I recall, it was your poor innocent horse Hurricane that was killed when you tripped in front of my Bourbon. I came out of your attack with a welt on my I also recall you were the one who passed out and, as you say in your police report..."woke up in the arms of my wife after she dragged me out from under your horse". And then you actually have the gall to claim you said you would not go to the hospital because you wanted to, "stay with your hoss". Give me a fucking break...your horse was dead you should have been...but you just canīt stop playing to the crowd can you? pathetic excuse for a woman...but a fitting "mate" for your monkey of a husband. You and that other bitch Leslie have been concocting accusations against me for ten weeks now and not a one of them is going to stand and never could. Everyone there knew what was going on...everyone there knew what a no account, lying, theiving, cowardly bastard your "mate" is...and all of us were just waiting for his end to it will. Where will you now go with your brood from hell? Who will you now cheat? Everyone who has ever come in contact with you people has paid a heavy price...but you pay the heaviest because you know you are trailer trash...white too. You hate people who show goodness, kindness and trust in you...because you know how little you all deserve it.

I never asked you people for a fucking penny in repayment...but you believe that whatever you steal from people belongs to you because you "worked" for actually think lying is honest work. You have never earned a dime in your lives...youīve stolen whatever you had from innocent people who trusted in your act. You are terrible parents yet you have people here convinced you are a kind and loving send your youngest daughter out riding in circles, her long golen hair flowing in the about the time the well to do people leave for the city...your other daughter, Hallie, you set loose in the town till all hours hoping she snares the kid of someone with something you can steal. Your other innocent daughter Rachel you sent to house-sit for a trusting fool here, with her boyfriend...and surprise of surprises, the house was "robbed"...guess who did it, besides you.

You really thought your slit skirt up to your panties was a think your floppy boobs showing through your blouse would engender anything but disgust? Did you think I was to be snared by you snared Lorenzo Obispo? I know your act...Iīve worked with plenty of delinquent children, and thatīs all you and Brentley are.

You people had no interest in grain-fed beef...not unless he had money to steal...and you had just about as much interest in a horsebackriding stable...these are lures, traps by which you hoped to catch wealthy and gullible people to fleece...but I saved three such potential suckers you were setting up.

And another thing...Iīve never seen a worse job of horseshoeing than either of you managed. Your thing is to talk up what you do...make a big deal of it to people you think will be impressed, and enough are and itīs from them you steal. But it isnīt just money you want to slime and degrade and break the hearts and trust of good people because you know what rotten things you are and it tears you the rest of us have to be brought you can laugh together in bed as Brently sticks his prick in your ear and you wrap your lips around his hoss.

Just remember...a fat, balding, "poor" horseman and his three children ran you all off of this hillside. Turns out Brentley isnīt much of a horseman after all...he couldnīt manage one horse...I controlled 350.

Whether you are jailed or not, doesnīt matter to me...go wander with the other creepy crawly things that go " OUCH!" in the night. Let Brentley go pimp you and his daughters somewhere else.

As for the people who support you, give you money and cars and placed you in close proximity to my family and who conspired with you to steal our horses, who steadily refused to check your idiotic stories, as I finally did, and who would not listen to any of us when we tried to warn them...when you are gone I am going to press every charge against them all as I can under Mexican law...both criminal and civil.

Together you sent my wife to the hospital with stress and nervous exhaustion worrying about our children...I will return that favor.

Leslie, you actually swore on documents that Brentley only rode out to "talk" to me and that I panicked and fell...well come back and live in your homes donīt have to hide out in town any longer...come back here and take your long, langorous walks again...and see if I donīt ride out to "talk" with you.

Luis sorry excuse for a man and a Mexican. You have been screwed by these white people royally...I will make your fingernails weep. You actually swore I came at your wife with an axe ready to chop the fat cow up. And you also swore that you "manfully" drove your truck between me and the gate to allow your wife to waddle out quickly, hop in your truck and rushed her to safety...then when I saw you at the Ministerio, you made a big show of standing up in front of your wife, spreading out your arms to protect her from me...there in broad daylight, at the POLICE MINISTRY, my wife and children in attendence. Such a man and protector we all should have.

But I tell you what...the owner of that truck, whom you told part of the truth to, to justify the damage you did to it and the trust you breached because you were not supposed to drive it, just fix it...she will tell the truth...she will do it so you hang by yourself.

What really happened was that as part of this ongoing effort to scare us away or harm us... ruin our reputation and get us deported concocted the axe business...and you tried to run me down with Moriīs truck. I only managed to get behind my Bourbon in time before you rammed its fender...and drove off. How come you didnīt want to supply the dramatic ramming...made a better story donīt you think?

Let me tell you why...because it is absurd to claim I was coming at your wife with an axe intent on murdering her...and in fear and out of love and concern for rammed the truck of the mad psychopath...then ran away as fast as you could. Was I supposed to feel better disposed to this thing I was supposed to kill? With you, her manly protector gone and with me, the nut with the now damaged car, alone with her...what COULDNīT I have done with your "darling"? Do you people ever think?

And you...Lorenzo Obispo aka Elmer Fudd...did Brentley tell you I scare that why you charged at me as I stood calmly by the truck...and backed off when I didnīt move? And you too have sworn that I hit you with my truck and you fell.

You drunken pig...telling me I didnīt WANT to know your it was something to strike fear into a person. Brentley told me that day with the horses that you knew people who could arrange the kidnapping and assault of my daughter. Was that supposed to scare us away? Or did you mean to do such a thing? Come in my range again and see where your balls hang from.

And Robert Harrow, husband of that consummate bitch Leslie...I told you about Brentley and your first impulse was to throw them out in 48 hours...then they worked on you again...told you about movie scripts and law suits and ranches and money, money, money. Luis Guzman owes us thousands of dollars he canīt repay and you want desperately to sell the house that Brentley and his animal family have trashed for you and you thought with us would all be in clover. Only Hurrican is pushing clover and he was the most innocent of all...if I had it to do over again I would have swerved the other way and put you out of our misery.

Perhaps you never heard of Chaldeans or Assyrians? Donīt ever pull a gun on one of us unless you mean to shoot...and you had better kill us too. Did you actually think I was going to take that "beating" you handed out to me, in front of my children, with you on horseback and me dancing around on foot? Did you get all your ideas about cowboys from the movies? You thought I would go home chastised? You dumb fuck...the second I grabbed the wheel of that Bourbon you were going to have to run to canīt even stay upright on a horse...go after my daughter will you? All the time you were playing the hero for your adoring fans you kept saying you were doing this because I knocked your daughter from her horse...another lie you made up...she fell on her you all seem to do. But if it was true, that beating was supposed to "settle the score"?...where do you think we Dodge City?

You so much as threaten a hair on my daughterīs head and I will give you the rest of what you got that day...THATīS what a father does who believes, really believes, that his daughter has been, or will be harmed by someone. I ran you to the ground and I will always remember the look of stark terror in your eyes as you looked back at the front end of the Bourbon as your horse sank to the ground. Go play cowboy somewhere else...come back here and my children and I will really fix you this time.

Your posse that canīt piss straight is going to abandon you real deserve one all work from self-interest...and soon it will be very expensive, as in jail time, for them to help you further. It serves you all right. Then I will go after them...legally of course. I WANT them back out here...want to know where they see them every day. You are all reduced to one tin can of a car, that Echo...the one that went, "ohshitohshitohshitohshit" the day my Bourbon pulled up behind you. You must have all been floating in piss the rest of the way.

Put MY wife in the hospital...threaten MY daughter? Come home...come home...all is forgiven but not forgotten...I will pay each and every one of you back if it kills you.

Copy this and run to the authorities with it...if you dare.


-- Farid Parhad
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