This is from an old post 3-years ago but still pretty much states my case. It was well received at the time and I thought I would reblog it and give it another airing.

Expat Journal: Postcards from the Edge

Growing up in the 1950’s all of my experience was with real-live bullies, not this modern-day phenomenon:  The Cyber-bully.  Let me state, right from the start, that I HATE bullies of any stripe (and, like fools, I don’t suffer them lightly).  And they are everywhere; always have been, and always will be, sorry to say.

I can remember a young thug-in-the-making, in the seventh grade, that used to extort my lunch and bus money two or three times a week.  He even assaulted me physically on two occasions.  He was a tough guy.  Bad family life, poor as a church mouse, ignorant and violent.  Looking back now, I suspect that he was being physically abused at home (he showed up to school, on more than one occasion, with a black eye).

Something miraculous happened that summer between the seventh and eighth grades, I grew.  He didn’t.  On his first extortion attempt at the…

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