Expose The Tard Exposing the truth from as far back as 1993.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

In Defense Of Melany Part 2

Months ago Nicky commented to Melany in anger that he may not be the father of their child, and I shot back using his own words from almost a decade ago where he admits that he is in a letter to their child.

Well recently he did it again
I just hate you with every bone in my body. You're going to wish all you want to see me locked away but we all know that I got some of my freedom the day you left me. You still want to slap me across my face for what I am saying here, this is my blog and I can say what I wish when I wish. You hold no control over what I say or what I do. Maybe that son isn't even mine.
yet even though I had already posted damning evidence before, I remembered having more, which I just found from his now deleted livejournal from 2003 courtest of my N: drive. What I am about to post here hasn't been seen in years...
Date: 2003-01-30 00:09
from father to his non-custodial son
Security: Public
Mood: depressed
Music: Theory of a Dead Man

Happy birthday son -- it is your fourth birthday last night. It was four years ago that I was in the hospital with your mother (even though the mother and I are not talking,
we will always be your parents.) I will always be here for you even though the state would not allow me to be your father, my mind was too far gone and need to get the help I needed before I even began to be a father to you. A year ago I did a post like this and one of the longest I had done on livejournal in a long time along with the one on my birthday; I think of you all the time my son. This was about three years ago in Feburary that I had to sign you away to adoption, it kills me every time when the holidays come around and when your birthday is here and gone. I hope that your family who is looking out for you is doing a good job since if I tried to write a letter to you, I know that the bitch Blankenship would not make sure you get it. I still have a hate for her that is very strong as it was in 1999 -- but this post being that you are now four years old but when you turn 14 or 15, that your family would allow you to seek out the father that loves you but the state would never let you see. Your mother might hate me and I never speak with her -- it doesn't mean that we don't love you though. I don't know how she is taking it when she had to adopt you out -- but when I had to sign those papers it felt like the very thing that was keeping me alive was no longer there. So I continued with my writing in vain hopes that when you do find me, that you would find that first then seek me out. I will be 38 when you are old enough to seek me out, that would be a long time though because of the fuck ups of the system Iowa is.
Nicky we did this before. Everyone knows that you know you are the father. Most importantly the great state of Iowa does which is why they were smart enough to write you out of the picture for good. The sad yet comedic slant in your plan is that if anyone ever does try to seek you out, fandomwank and Encyclopedia Dramatica's pages on you show up on the first search page, guaranteeing that anyone that seeks you out online will learn the truth about you that you don't want known.

Of course if you don't believe Nicky, there's always that writer friend of his Theo Wolfe who wrote Loss of Blood. In fact let's read that again, shall we? If you don't want chronic eye bleeding from reading one of his pieces of shit from beginning to end, the following story has the important parts in bold so you can skip past the over dramatized garbage he wrote years ago. (please note some names have been removed, others purposely misspelled)
Tuesday, February 9th, 1999, the Loss of Blood
Written by Theodore Wolfe and Nickolaus Pacione

Those of you that may have read most of my fiction may not know where my imaginations come up with such terror, but that is a creation of my own imagination. In the years that I had spent reading H.P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allen Poe, and Stephen King -- horror is taken from reality as well. Theodore saw a copy of the police report that I had hand written, and was reading books written by John Saul (he, his wife and Melany
(lol wat) told me to look into him,) H.P. Lovecraft, Robert Bloch, and as well as books of true crime such as case studies of Jeffory Dhamer and Jack The Ripper -- for me this is a true story when I had moved to Mason City's North End, I was actually jumped outside of my apartment.
I told Theodore of the case after he read the police report in the local newspaper. I wrote the rough draft under the suggestion of Officer Jessica Buckman because she was the officer on the scene when I was beaten down -- and said that I can make the report into a gothic tale. Theodore is a young writer, and grown up in New Hampton, Iowa, that was interested in writing out my police report as a story. I gave him the go ahead and this is what he'd come up with. It is based on what had happened February 9 to me.
Theo had been wanting to write a story on the lines of Robert Bloch and Stephen King, then read some of my fiction in a coffee house while I was waiting for my bus in Des Moines. Then using my police report, he wanted to write something that is likely top scare the shit of someone from Iowa as well as in Chicago Illinois. His wife, (
lol wat again)whose name is also Melany, liked the idea and I gave him the go ahead, with Buchman's and my input -- "Loss of Blood" born. He gave me the rough draft, then with Barbara A. Oldham while on my break from work -- made the final revisions, as it would read similar to either "Method Into The Heart Of Madness" or "The Wrong Side of The Tracks" then made a reference to "The Comatose Letters." After I'd been reading the rough draft, at 20, Theodore is still learning the talent, the gift.

--Nickolaus A. Pacione
final revisions: February 9 - 14, 1999 Feb. 9 1999:*
After all this happened and I had time to calm down and think, There was a lot more I could remember and thought I better let the PD know. The altercation at the South Bridge mall happened when about four males and three females, all under the age of 18, were involved -- one was a coworker named Elizabeth (Liz) Anderson, 17. She harassed me about working Friday the 12th, when she knew that I already had plans to go
see my (child) and fiancee, Melany in Iowa City. At this time, I'd told Anderson to leave me alone . Then I walked through the youth center in the mall. I talked to a youth pastor Larry Day about getting a ride to Iowa City. I called John from the Assembly Of God church. I left from there -- Murl , Gelpart, with another young man followed me into a book store where a friend of mine works. From there I asked, "What do you want and why are you guys following me?" I said, "I hope you realize I can get you two for stalking and harassment." Gelpart said, "Just tell me what you said and I will leave you alone, if not I will make your life hell for the rest of the days you live in Mason City " . Gelpart said that someone told him I said that his baby was ugly when I didn't even know the child, and when I had a newborn (child) of my own.
I said to him,"That's an out right lie and you know it!!!" Gelpart still didn't budge then An, a friend of mine who worked got right in front of him and told him to leave but he just waited out side of the store. From there I gave An eye signal to call security and mouthed it .The security guard , Trent showed up . I asked him to keep an eye on Gelpart, 17, and Murl, 16. I walked across the hall to the Zoo , another business in the Mall. When I was standing there I was watching for Sean and D. J. And I saw Sean make a motion as he was going to slit my throat.
When Trent showed up to the Zoo, he told me I better get my ass out of there and he that he'd will keep a look out. He tried to keep them occupied while I made my exit to J.C. Penny's. When I exited J.C. Penny's, one of Gelpart's friends tried to corner me so then I darted back into J.C. Penny's. When this occurred, I was looking for the security guard again . Then the guard, Trent walked with me to the employee's hallway , then called the police In the mean time, my coworker, Liz and Sean's sister with another girl whom I did not know was on the SE. end of Mall waiting for me to go out of the building that way. Right before the police officer had shown up, Gelpart jumped in the face of Trent , the security guard, he said "I'll floor you right now, mother fucker!!". I just looked on not saying a word, but then he'd shouted at me saying that I am next. I said you lay one hand on me and I'll have you handcuffed and butt raped in prison. That's when the woman Police officer, Buckman, showed up and then she asked what was going on , first to Sean and then D.J. (probably Dale Murl), which I found out later his name , after every thing was done and over at the Mall. I decided to walk over to a friend's house where I used to stay at . She wasn't home so I decided to walk on home but I was keeping an eye out for Gelpart and Murl because I'd known what type of people they are . When I walked back to my apt. I was greeted by three individuals and it was Sean's younger sister and my Coworker, Liz, a young male -- about 18 with Sean's sister said, "I would slit your fucking throat if I had a knife right now, you Goddamned snitch!!"
My coworker, Liz , tried to keep me from entering my home. They tried to keep me talking until Sean, D.J., and another juvenile, a runaway who had escaped from Waterloo's Juvenile Center, Jason Scholby, 15. Jason showed up and was already at the gas cause he must of received a ride to the gas station next to my apartment from some one. Liz, my coworker, said in an evil tone, " Sean is going to kick your ass, and you'll not going to go to the Police about it -- I'll make sure of that myself. They are going to pull you off some where , where no one can find you so you won't narc on any one else -- maybe if you are lucky, they just allow you to breathe."
Her motive was that she wanted me murdered, as the person named David Gordon did back 1993 at the DAVEA Career Center in Addison, Illinois, but her motive was that I was the one that turned Murl( That happened in mid Aug. 1998, when I narced on D.J. ( Dale R. Murl, Jr. ., on a possession of marijuana and assault charges which he was on parole for.) Liz said, "Nick, you are a constant narc and you don't deserve to live." (Later, after this all came about I was told by a couple sources that she wanted to plot my death -- it was while Barb and I were typing up the rough draft of the police to turn into Buckman, of The Mason City Police Department.)
As I looked over my shoulder, and I thought "Oh shit, I better take off to the east and then north to the store where I work because there was a tall male, which I had later been told to Jason Scholby, the Waterloo Runaway." Gelpart had caught up with me at the door of the shop where I work. I felt a violent pulling as I tried to open the front door. As I opened the door, I screamed in terror to Barb," BARB!!! BAAAAAAARRRRRBBB!!!!! Call the police!!!! Now !!!! NOW Dam It !!" Sean had pulled me outside by my left sleeve and my upper chest was still in the store -- then I felt something hard hit the top of my head, a weapon of some kind and my Boss Barb screamed at her husband Jack to come up and Jack pulled me into the store and pushed Sean off me . Then Barb told me to stay in the store and she was going to see what was going on. I then took off my quilted flannel then my black t-shirt and went into the bath room because I felt something warm, pulsing liquid on my back. I then thought, "Shit!! Oh God-- no, I cannot be bleeding!!" Tried to wash my hands and thought, no I better let the police see me first.
After Barb called the police, it seemed to be hours because I was bleeding pretty horribly, and in my eyes -- I was looking at my hands in terror because all the voices around me were as an echo as in a cavern of pipes and concrete. At this time, Buckman had seen what had happened to me -- the blood flowing down the front of my face, and five pools of blood on the floor. She told me to lie down and do not move because I had lost about a quart of blood -- more than what I'd lost when I was bit by a good sized rat in the shop. I'd lost enough to cover two mid-sized towels. Then Buckman told Barb to call the ambulance -- I could see at the corner of my eye that the EMTs had gotten there about 8:45 PM. I heard one of them tell me that he was going to roll me over into the stretcher -- I felt a chill of death on my skin as how I can describe it, and my skin was pale as a vampire from an Anne Rice novel. I felt something around my head, a gauze with another dressing to stop the bleeding.
I murmured to the EMT that I was cold so they covered me up in five blankets then I was asked to grip the EMT's finger -- I could barely move because I was harnessed to the fucken stretcher and wrapped as damned mummy. I felt three EMTs lifting me up through the door -- with one of my neighbors from the apartment and Officer Buckman looking on as I was centered on a cart. It is here I felt something like the sleeping bag I would use -- but similar in the material, that the EMTs would use to wrap me in while I was riding in the back of the ambulance that reminded me of the scene in Halloween II where Lorie Strode was taken to the hospital. The Police Officer who walked in the back said that they will follow behind to North Iowa Mercy Hospital.
In my mind at the time when I lay in the stretcher, all I could think about are if I am ever going to see
my son again -- this is the darkest fears of a young father because how bad I thought I was beaten. And as I slept, all I could think about are the nightmares that haunted me about how many people had wanted me murdered. One had said that I should not be thinking about such horrors, but as this happened -- I have to reflect and relate, the closest I can relate is the attempted murder in Addison, back in October of 1993, while I was still in Glenbard East.

February 10, 1999:
It had been almost twelve hours to the horror that occurred outside my apartment --of when I got brutally attacked by a blood thirsty individual. Indeed, one would ask what had happened because the incident appeared in the newspaper in Mason City. In my mind, I'd could only think of the most horrific attack on oneself and of the trip to the Emergency Room -- the picture in my mind was of the pool of blood that I was lying in from the hour that I was beaten down by a tall, thin individual. His face was long and hair was a dirty blonde that he kept tied in a ponytail. His eyes had a darkly blank stare to them -- as a demon that Pacione's fiancee, Melany had spoken of in her dreams, as well as the nightmare Melany had after Pacione given her a tour of the place called Ravenswood. As I was lying on the stretcher, I was able to see the nightmare clear inside -- I am barely awake, but very weak because of the loss of blood.
When I saw the blood on the floor, I was thinking that I was not going to live to see the next day because I had been bleeding as heavy as the day that I lost part of my finger -- I was living out a horror tale that would appear on Pacione's web site where He'd written the tale, "The Comatose Letters." My terror was becoming quite real because I'm quite nervous when I walk around the North End of Mason City, Iowa, near where N. Albert's friend had messed up his arm in a fight during mid September on the North End, near the apartment where Nick had made his home. It was last night, that I'd been attacked and the thoughts inside were quite unspeakable as the pictures Pacione would describe of his nightmarish images -- I found myself lying on my back thinking, "God -- Oh Dear God, I am bleeding -- I'd been fucking cut, but where?" All that I could see is a police officer in her mid 20s, telling me to lay down and stay calm. I shouted, " I want this mother fucker in handcuffs, and make sure that his hands are bleeding because the cuffs are tight around his goddamned wrists!"
I was still shaking at the time when the female officer had been on her knees until the EMTs had appeared to the place where I had been lying down. My skin was quite pale from the shock of what had just occurred -- pale as the flesh of a vampire that had just been embraced, such thoughts one had were of not being able to see
my wife (haha wat) and son ever again because how much blood that one had lost. But the picture of the black shape, a 17 year old male -- a minor who had the personality complex equal of Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde. Something of this nature is always frightening, in the sense that something is going down as the fight of Pacione's friend was in on the North End of Mason City. As what Nickolaus described in his nightmares about walking around in Chicago -- near the town where he lived seeing graffiti from a local gang, I'd seen similar shadows in Mason City before moving out of New Hampton, Iowa, to live in Mason City.
Last night, as I'd fallen asleep -- I dreamed that I was walking the streets of Downtown Chicago with Nickolaus as my guide, and what he had showed I was pictures of a frightening nature. Such pictures that he told me in a letter were as icily frightening as what he'd wrote of in his fiction are of the darkest fears inside his mind, but as what I'd been told that one should not be writing of such things because it is the work of an unsound mind. In one way or another, Nickolaus had been considered a madman in the eyes of a rural city because of the dark, vampire-like thoughts that he describes about his nightmares. Such as what had happened to me last night, my wife had known nothing of the horror that I sit down to type in my personal journal -- one that I describe was of the loss of blood that was invoked by the beating on the North End that had taken place.
It was a horror film playing over and over as a story of Nickolaus' would quickly be unleashed about 8:30 in the evening -- in one's mind when I got beaten down the night of February 9th, one cannot begin to imagine the horror that is crawling around inside one's mind that would drive another to beat another down. Only as this thought lurks inside -- I am a bit touchy, touchy with a sense of dread. A dread that appears in form a loss of blood that is slowly dripping on the floor -- similar to the darkening paranoia inside the morbid fears as one would fall into a dark, tormented sleep. The dream that I had was of a tall, heavy set individual smashing in the door of my place on the South End of town -- with the intent to slash open my throat. The individual was that of a demented personality -- making Norman Bates seem like a better person to hang around with than him.
One of those that I dread if
my wife (lol haha wat), Melany *, and young (child), (name withheld), would fall victim to what his motives are. The horror in my mind that I'd find them on the floor, cold and lifeless because he'd taken their life -- before I would even return from work, but as I'd seen this I'd awaken from the sleep, I was lying in the ambulance -- alone with the EMT in the back of the ambulance, wrapped up inside the sleeping bag and five blankets. One could not see the outside of the ambulance, but the fear inside one's mind had left one's thoughts blank from all the things that are around me at the time -- the very hour that color of the hour was black as the darkest sky. Inside that I'd see the things lurking among the terrors -- the terrors of the soul as a shadow lurking as a stalker waiting to take the life of one that should not be facing in the waking hours. The waking hours at the time of the loss, the loss of blood.
Not to mention my previous post pointing out all the other numerous times he admitted to being the father.

I shouldn't have to post any more proof, but for the record, Nicky is the liar, not Melany.

And please bear with me I am experimenting with different fonts trying to find one that makes it easier to read this site. :)


Wind Dancing said...

And there's always a little thing called....a paternity test. If he didn't think the boy is his...well all it takes is a simple blood test. But then he couldn't use my 'lie' as a pathetic attempt to hurt me when it comes back that he IS the father. The truth hurts doesn't it Nicky? It hurts that you will never get to see him again. I bet you don't even have a recent pic, while I have one taken 2 months ago. I even get to see him a few times a year because unlike you, I'm not an asshat who is stupid enough to make threats. I know where he lives and could call his adoptive parents up today and say "Hey would such and such a weekend work for you to get together?" and get a yes or a more convenient time for them. Hell I even get together with the family for no reason. His adoptive mom comes down sometimes just to talk about issues that are bothering her and just to let us know how he's doing. Can you say the same?

Wind Dancing said...

Oh, and for the record he and I were NEVER married. So the mentions of his "wife" Melany. Yeah. Liar liar pants on fire nicky.

ExposeTheTard said...

If you don't mind me asking Mel... did he overdramatize the "attack" that left him with a stabbed head?

therustynail said...

At least you escaped the Nick in time, Melany. ;)

The fact that 10 years later, he's still trying to be as hurtful as possible to you for walking out on him merely demonstrates what a small-minded prick he is. As if we needed any further proof . . . ::rolleyes::

Anonymous said...

*big hugs* for Melany. We're Anonymous but you know we're out there and we believe you.

Wind Dancing said...

As I don't even remember the incident I'd say he blew it way out of proportion or he's lying about what happened. He makes it sound like he did nothing, But I bet anything he was an asshole to the wrong person and got just what he deserved. Head wounds bleed like a son of a bitch anyway so it's unlikely he lost as much blood as he claims. And it reads a lot like one of his badly written stories.

ExposeTheTard said...

One of those who attacked him, Dale, reappeared about a year ago much to Nicky's displeasure, but not much came of it.

I hope you know Melany that I didn't create this to bring up old wounds, rather, to further defend your side of things.

I found a piece of his from the late 90's that even he has forgotten about (does not show up anywhere in google) but a) it's a boring diatribe about nightmares and b) to repost it here would give it back to him.

I have tons of stuff though, like his DC trip, mysexy's videos, his old stories, and so on, but I'm not sure what to post next.

All of that is nothing compared to the review I have been promised of his latest opus titled "The Story of Thomas Jode" not to be confused with the review Thomas Jode left for An Eye In Shadows here
but I think I'll hold back until he's active again. Two sources both cite that he is quiet because he's deep into finishing that and something else while one adds he was forced to take another break, although I cannot confirm the latter.

I can confirm though that someone passed on yet another freebie to the book burners this week. They are waiting to see if he goes off on them again or not before restarting.

ExposeTheTard said...

Also Melany you are a true mother. You made the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of your child, which is the epitome of a great mother, plus you keep in touch which must be hard.

Nicky is such a monster an entire state keeps him from his child and like you said, he doesn't get to see and probably wouldn't if he could. He gave up writing letters to him which confirmed a theory I had many many years ago that he did that in public to impress a girl he liked named taintedangel. I think it was her, but someone who he thought he was dating had a child and he was very into her, only to become enraged when he found out it wasn't mutual. Myself I think she feigned being gay or bi to get rid of him, but anyway, after that all the talk of him being this forlorn suffering daddy stopped.

Wind Dancing said...

Nicky can't hurt me anymore, and the sad thing is he's to stupid to realize it. I just see him as a pathetic excuse for a human being (jury is still out on his species honestly) and in the immortal words of Red Foreman he's a "dumbass".

I mean really what can he do to me? Destroy my nonexistant writing career? Call me up in the middle of the night with a drunken and incoherent rant? He doesn't scare me, and he can't hurt me.

Anonymous said...

I don't get what's going on in the last piece of "writing". Why does he sometimes refer to himself in the third person? Also, he can't seem to keep straight whether Melany is his wife or his fiancee, but that's a more typical Nicky-ism.

Anonymous said...

The last piece was written by "Theo Wolfe" about Nicky's ordeal, which is hilarious because Nicky later admitted that he was in fact Theo. No one was surprised because a) the guy wrote just like him and b) no one believed Nicky would have a friend, much less one that would find his story believable. No one, not even the local police, thought his "attack" was as dangerous as he made it out to be.

Ben McClellan said...

I always thought that the events Nicky wrote about were seriously embellished. Sure, he probably did tattle on Dale, because he probably believed that if he went back to jail, he would be accepted into this teenage clique in his place. I also think that Dale was most likely the one that told Nicky to back off and stop hanging around them.

There probably was a confrontation, but it wasn't any worse than the usual name calling, sexual insults, and a few shoves or punches to the arm, but Nicky was so scared that he made it come across as attempted murder during that rambling "story". I don't think even the angriest teenager would voluntarily throw their future away to silence someone like Pacione permanently.

The question is, if Nicky was already in his twenties by this time, why was he bothering to become part of a group of mostly teens?

Crawford Tillinghast said...

Christ, and what's almost as tragic is that first excerpt looks to be about the most eloquent thing he's ever written (although he still can't seem to resist dropping an f-bomb or two in there).

Coming from anybody else, that might've actually been somewhat moving...bowel movements notwithstanding.

Wind Dancing said...

Nicky always hung out with teens...particularly young girls. Make of that what you will. And so called christians. You know the type? Weirdos that hang out in the mall food court all day praying and trying to save the souls of anyone stupid enough to get too close to their table.

Little Bird said...

I hate to assume on the validity of anyone's emotions, but in this case, Nick's written words and his actions don't mesh up. I'm afraid that to Nick, his son is nothing more than the final, irrefutable proof of his virility--"I'm not queer or socially inept! I had sex once! I knocked a girl up! That makes me manly, dammit!"--along the lines of his boasting about his cigars and heavy drinking (as pointed out in a previous post). If he EVER gets in contact with this child, I have no doubt that Nick will try to use his son in real life the same way he uses him in his writing: as a weapon and a tool to prove to the world that he (Nick) is something other than what he is.

This is of course in no way meant to be a slap at Melany, who has proven time and again through her own actions that she IS a real woman and a real parent . . . and more than that, that she is a person of grace and good humour, even when dealing with the fallout of her tenuous association with such a louse as Nickolaus Pacione. She moved on. He can't.

Velmonturna said...

"then he'd shouted at me saying that I am next. I said you lay one hand on me and I'll have you handcuffed and butt raped in prison."

Sounds like Nicky's typical fantasy.

Thanks for updating Exposethetard its made me laugh harder than I have laughed in a long, long time obviously at Nicky's expense. He just sucks so bad at life unlike anything I've ever seen and I've been "fighting" with him since about '02-'03 via LiveJournal.

I still can't get over how over the top this blog is at slamming Nicky. I constantly find myself raising my eyebrow and asking myself how EtT got such and such document.

Not only is this blog good for humor purposes but also psychological purposes. Thanks for coming back. =)

NIckolaus Pacione said...

Still stealing my work ExposeTheTard. You had no permission to use my work on your website so you better take it down. Can't do a site that trashes on me in a drop of the hat. Melany, what kind of life do you have now. Where you're stalking me just to make my life a living hell.

NIckolaus Pacione said...

Still stealing my work ExposeTheTard. You had no permission to use my work on your website so you better take it down. Can't do a site that trashes on me in a drop of the hat. Melany, what kind of life do you have now. Where you're stalking me just to make my life a living hell.

NIckolaus Pacione said...

Still stealing my work ExposeTheTard. You had no permission to use my work on your website so you better take it down. Can't do a site that trashes on me in a drop of the hat. Melany, what kind of life do you have now. Where you're stalking me just to make my life a living hell.

Wind Dancing said...

What kind of life do I have? Let's see. I have a job, a nice apartment, I saw my son a few weeks ago, Lion's Club, a cousin's wedding, a 90th birthday party. A huge fireworks show last friday night, a midnight showing of GI Joe with a date....shall I go on? Or is that enough proof of having a life for you?

How's your basement dwelling existance going anyway?

Bluey said...

Aw, Nicky. No-one's paid attention to you in more than a month and it's starting to sting, isn't it? It's always hard when you start to realise the world doesn't revolve around you, isn't it?

Report Him Anonymously

Copy/paste url of offending website