There was one thing Patrick Grady wanted more than anything else in the world. He wanted to be a big time financial adviser… a superstar like his hero, Dave Ramsey. But there was a great big obstacle to achieving that dream.
His wife, Tracey.
His mean old wife wouldn’t LET him be the financial genius he knew he was deep inside. The financial genius who would help others with his wizardry. And that son? What a horrible anchor as be called him in a later essay.
SHE gave him a handicapped son to support. SHE stifled his wizardry, the same wizardry that left him a quarter-million dollars in debt and destroyed his marriage and — in my opinion — his sanity.
Unbeknownst to the missus, Patrick had a secret life. He pretended to be a zombie calling itself “Paul Krendler” — the character from the movie “Hannibal” who was fed sauteed slices of his own brain at the end of the movie. In his blogging life, Grady had but one purpose and that was to destroy your humble writer. He created his “Thinking Man’s Zombie” blog in April 2014 and since then it has been a nearly daily attack, like a baby smearing the bedroom wall with the contents of its own diaper, smearing lies and defamation like shit. Krendler felt protected by his secret identity. When I tried to break that secret by forcing him to defend a copyright, he was contacted by his Internet Daddy, WJJ Hoge III, who lied under oath by filing an official document with the US Copyright Office — under penalty of perjury — claiming he and “Krendler” shared Hoge’s Westminster, Maryland, address.
It was a lie, of course. My insights into the tormented mind of Grady/Krendler and his motivations are limited for the years 2014 and 2015. I know he seemed unusually angry with me for reasons known only to himself. Yet after my wife died in June 2015, and Grady/Krendler used that tragedy to profane her memory with pornographic images from a necrophilia website, I knew I would have to do something.
I called the police in March 2016, laid out all my evidence, and gave them Grady/Krendler’s address and phone number.
They must have spoken to Mrs. Grady. I surmise she was shocked by what she saw on her husband’s website and she kicked him to the curb.
Clearly, this still-pending divorce did nothing to make Grady feel more charitable towards me. His anger showed in his blog and his stalking took on a more personal, threatening tenor.
Then, in what must have been a thunderclap to his tormented psyche, on August 30, 2016 (five months after being curbed by the missus) Grady’s wife filed for bankruptcy. The would-be financial wizard — now estranged from his wife and son and living in a dingy Glendale Heights, Illinois, apartment — was dragged in as the co-debtor.
The couple claimed assets of $219,495.00 and liabilities of $235,667.02. She kept the townhouse in Palatine, the value of which ($160,000.00) comprised the lion’s share of their assets. He was forced to make do on his income as a button pusher for a company called Capgemini.
It just wasn’t fair! Tracey only made $857 a month at her job while Capgemini compensated Patrick to the tune of over $7,000 a month.
The bankruptcy wound its way through the court like they all do. When the Trustee reported on the distribution, the Gradys wound up abandoning $130,000 in assets. $89,495 in assets were declared to be exempt. And $235,667.02 in debt was left unpaid.
Now, angry as a wet hornet, Grady has renewed his attack on your reporter with a renewed vigor. It CAN’T be his fault that his wife was repulsed and sickened by him when she learned who he really was. It CAN’T be his fault that he had nearly a quarter-million dollars in debts he would not, could not pay. It was that SCHMALFELDT. If only SCHMALFELDT had done what he was supposed to do and taken Grady’s abuse in good humor and come back for more, it wouldn’t have come to this. Grady would still have his happy home, not a dark, crappy little apartment in the Chicago suburbs. He wouldn’t have a quarter-million dollar bankruptcy judgment. He would still have a life.
But it’s not a total loss. Grady is still a welcome participant and contributor to his Internet Daddy’s blog. There is speculation that Hoge pays Grady to carry out little harassment-related odd jobs for Hoge that Hoge would not be caught dead carrying out himself.
Still, I allow myself a moment of pity for Patrick Grady. I imagine he remembers being a semi-respectable adult. A man. Somewhere, deep in his disturbed, chemically-inbalanced brain, he must recall how it felt to be honorable.
Now, he’s a lickspittle toady for a vengeful, vexatious old man.
It only makes him angry and resentful all the more.