Diary of A Sadman: The Doxxing of Senior Woodchuck

[Dog-O-Tron 5000 v4.0]

Allright, time for another epic dox drop. Once again I’m allowing popular opinion to guide me. In the new “Who is the Most Pathetic Mod” thread, Senior Woodchuck is tied with Ozma for first place. What’s the goal here? Well of course I’d love to take down another mod, that’s what we do, that’s what SASS did. But Woodchuck won’t cave as quick as Eggplant. She had every reason to keep her worlds compartmentalized and separated with the hopes of formal employment and fantasies of a normal life, white picket fences and babies and MY HUSBAND. Woodchuck, as we will see, has no such illusions, and in his quest to be A Writer, has put out a TON of information about himself in the guise of Writing. Not only is he a dumb Gen Y Narcissist who doesn’t understand the consequences of information sharing, he would be loath to take down any of his “work.” I could be wrong though, which is why I backed up the juicy bits.

Senior Woodchuck



Name: Michael Charles Pullmann
https://twitter.com/thepmann
http://www.linkedin.com/in/michaelpullmann
http://forums.comicbookresources.com/search.php?searchid=1096206
http://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A1FUSZQW3FURPP/ref=cm_cr_rdp_pdp
Born: 11/12/1981
Lives: since 8/26/2007 in an apartment on the corner of 29th Street and 30th Road, Queens, NY on the 6th floor.
Occupation: Unemployed since January. A “Writer” with a professional output of 3 published short articles in the past decade.
Family: Father, Ray, Mother, Karen, brother Matt, Grandmothers Nora and Georgia.
Relationships: Dating a girl named Erin since June of 2012, hangs out with people on Comic Book Resources forum and other unemployed writers
SA Career: Joined August 29th, 2006. Moderator of GBS and E/N since at least 2011. Over 7000 posts, may or may not be accurate taking into account FYAD posting. Mostly posts in BSS.
Other: Has 30,000 posts on the Comic Book Resources forums

Bio: Michael “Senior Woodchuck” Pullman is a 31 year old manchild who grew up medicated and bullied, seeking refuge in science fiction, children's cartoons, and comic books. He still loves these things to this day. He graduated with a useless vanity degree and has spent the last decade living on his parent’s dime in NYC so he can fulfill his dreams to be a “Writer,” which he has yet failed to do, unless 40,000 forum posts and thousands of tweets, a couple of published short articles and and unpublished novel count. A loser with the ladies, he only had sex a couple times in college and contracted an STD for his troubles, then underwent a 9 year dry spell til he found something that would allow his creepy touch. Not being Forever Alone is arguably his greatest accomplishment since graduating college almost 10 years ago. Loves Peter David, Star Trek, Ducktails, Dave Berry, and Superheroes. Has become an ardent feminist over the past few years.

Coming Up:
Chapter One: Life of a Woodchuck
Chapter Two: Education
Chapter Three: Romance
Chapter Four: “Career”

Redacted Information I have but won’t share:
I know his parents address, **** ****** *o**, Sugar Land, TX 77*** , their previous 2 addresses, their phone number, *8*-***-*1**. I know where his parents work and what they do, when they were born, when they were married, where they went to school, and his fathers work and private email addresses. I know his grandparents names, when his grandfathers died, when they were married, when his brother was born, the names of his aunts and uncles.

Oh. Do I have your attention?

I choose not to share this stuff because it’s not germane to the humiliation of Senior Woodchuck and we don’t need people to do anything stupid like harass his family. Everything we need to mock Woodchuck will be posted, and just like with Eggplant Wizard I will confirm if you find any of this out and ask me via PM, and I’ll share with fagmins to verify what I say is true. It’s enough that he knows I know. All the stuff I am sharing was right there in his posted details, you just have to take an hour to skim through postings and ferret it out. Should he perferm an Eleanor-syle mass deletion, I’ve saved it all, with links.

And now, some fun quotes from Michael “Senior Woodchuck” Pullmann:

I have weak and fragile self-esteem, and require attention from strangers on the Internet to feel good about myself!

    I also take criticism and disagreement far too personally, and get a puffed-up, tingly sensation from perceiving myself to be persecuted!

    If the majority of the forum likes me, I gain meaningless but satisfying validation! If they don't, then I feed my growing martyr complex! It's a win-win!

In contrast, I find myself quite easily aroused by porn fiction. I don't say "erotica" because it doesn't even meet the basic literary quality for that. However, there is characterization, dynamics, some kind of hook beyond "we're screwing." I can find some degree of interest in the situation, and, for whatever reason, that connection makes it easier for me to become aroused. I even find myself returning to old stories I've read before, because I know that they'll achieve the desired effect, whereas I rarely return to the same string of video clips if I've seen it more than once.

So if you see me on the street, or the subway, or in a crowded store, or across the table, or lying next to you in the early hours of the morning, and I'm staring at you, into you, with my head cocked slightly to the side, and the look in my eyes sends a cold shiver up your spine, please, forgive me. I don't mean to scare you, or make you uncomfortable. I just can't help myself.

[Chelsea Clinton Foot Fetishist]

Ground floor for the story of a really really sad man.


Fuck that's depressing, and title is really appropriate

[[PROJECTING]Tuss]

we're coming for you michael

[PUSSY CANCER]

 

owns

[[PROJECTING]Tuss]

Ground floor for the story of a really really sad man.


Fuck that's depressing, and title is really appropriate

gtfo and don't ever post in this thread ever again

[Big Duck Equals Goose]

Who would win in a fist fight, Benny Or Wood?

[Chelsea Clinton Foot Fetishist]

So if you see me on the street, or the subway, or in a crowded store, or across the table, or lying next to you in the early hours of the morning, and I'm staring at you, into you, with my head cocked slightly to the side, and the look in my eyes sends a cold shiver up your spine, please, forgive me. I don't mean to scare you, or make you uncomfortable. I just can't help myself.

This is terrifying.

[Dog-O-Tron 5000 v4.0]

Who would win in a fist fight, Benny Or Wood?

Woodchuck is literally Benny in 10 years. I cannot emphasize that enough. If Benny the Snake ever read these forums, the one thing I hope he would read and comprehend is that. The major difference, in fact, is that Benny so far has had the sense to stay with his parents and try to support himself on his own. Though of course, if his parents had the cash that Woodchuck's do, he would probably follow the same road.

[[PROJECTING]Tuss]

fagmins please plex cis scum so that this thread may remain pure

[Ghostse.cx]

Are we going to get to see pictures of Woodchuck's bruised ass?

[Chelsea Clinton Foot Fetishist]

Woodchuck is literally Benny in 10 years. I cannot emphasize that enough. If Benny the Snake ever read these forums, the one thing I hope he would read and comprehend is that. The major difference, in fact, is that Benny so far has had the sense to stay with his parents and try to support himself on his own. Though of course, if his parents had the cash that Woodchuck's do, he would probably follow the same road.

Are his parents 1%er like Ozma's and will also be able to support him well into his 40s and 50s?

[whatthedickesisthis]

That faggots is just disgusting. Not like goon chewing on double snickers whopper-disgusting, but like a dried up piece of manure on the side of the road, it's just there, and is not going anywhere

[PUSSY CANCER]

But we already know you 

[Seeing Eye Duck]

But we already know you 

  This guy right here? He's how I found this forum. His bullshit SJW moderation caused me to google: "Fuck Senor Woodchuck". This site popped up. I hope he steps down. I really do.

[bareback bathhouse sodomy]

Read his posts on CBR; he's a faggot over there but he really reigns himself in when he's not wielding a banhammer. Not that the realization that Woodchuck is a coward should be a suprise.

[bongo bongo]

Read his posts on CBR; he's a faggot over there but he really reigns himself in when he's not wielding a banhammer. Not that the realization that Woodchuck is a coward should be a suprise.

I can't see shit when I click the link, did he hide all his posts or do I need an account there to view them?

[bareback bathhouse sodomy]

Read his posts on CBR; he's a faggot over there but he really reigns himself in when he's not wielding a banhammer. Not that the realization that Woodchuck is a coward should be a suprise.

I can't see shit when I click the link, did he hide all his posts or do I need an account there to view them?

the search function there blows, can't find any of his posts. Even Google is failing; might have nuked everything. That link wasn't working for me either, I was just remembering other things he's said.

[Mailorder Divorcee]

This isn't going to work. EPW stepped down because she was ashamed of her goony shit and didn't want it to become public knowledge attached to her real name. Woodchuck is 24/7 goon and has no sense of shame. He already posts all this creepy shit under his real name.

[Stroker Ace]

Agreed. Woodchuck is seriously so pathetic that he won't step down until they take the ban button from his cold dead hand. Without SA he's just an unemployed duck fucker

[Dog-O-Tron 5000 v4.0]

I made an account at CBR to see his crap. So much :effort: do I give.

This isn't going to work. EPW stepped down because she was ashamed of her goony shit and didn't want it to become public knowledge attached to her real name. Woodchuck is 24/7 goon and has no sense of shame. He already posts all this creepy shit under his real name.

Who cares? It's still funny. And it's good that the SA posters he lords it up over know how pathetic the man is who bans them.

Anyway,

The Life of a Woodchuck

Michael “Senior Woochuck” Pullmann grew up in Bartlesville, OK in the 80s and early 90s. His parents had met at college. She was an elementary school teacher; he worked in sales, marketing, and engineering for industrial and technology firms. His father’s father was a Lutheran minister; his other grandfather was a WWII vet who was very and fought at the Battle of the Bulge. They married and got their careers going in the 70s for almost 10 years before their first son, Matt was born. Handsome and athletic, popular in school, Matt was nothing like the younger brother would would be born a few years later…Michael.

Mine was not a happy childhood or adolescence. As I've discussed here, some of it was my own damn fault, and some of it was matters beyond my control. But I've never talked about the part that was the other kids. In some ways, it was the worst, and had the longest-reaching effect on my life.

Michael had a rough life. He was very smart but acted out in school, and having 2 working parents did not help. Like so many Boomer children of that era, they quickly sought professional help for their child. By age 6, Michael was in therapy and taking medication for anger and anxiety issues which later manifested into depression and social withdrawal. He lived in a fantasy world, constructing narratives and worlds to live in while shutting out the rest of society. Only his trusty dog, a spaniel named Zinger, understood him.

So, I identified with Calvin a lot. I took to playing Spaceman Spiff at recess, coming up with my own hardboiled Tracer Bullet monologues on the way to the bus stop. I confined this psychological Calvinball to my play hours, but the notion that the world didn’t necessarily have to be as I saw it took hold, and probably was partly responsible for my seeking out science fiction and fantasy books at a young age.

I don’t remember not being able to read. I suppose, logically, such a time must exist, but I don’t remember it. I was eating up those little Disney books on tape by the time I was 2. I think I’ve mentioned the Johnny-Jump-Up* picture here; I use that one as a standard for baby pic contests, and people always pick it out as me. My parents gave me books to shut me up in restaurants, on car trips, and even in church. I read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings when I was in fourth grade. It goes on like this.

Like most kids, I told stories with my toys. Unlike most kids, I came up with plots, scripts, and continuity. Granted, the plots were usually variations on either the villain swapping brains with the hero or the heroes all getting cryogenically frozen (my parent’s Amana made great strides in the science of human preservation). I even came up with an explanation for all the various remodels of my Ninja Turtle figures (Disguise Turtles, Hollow Shell Turtles, Transforming Turtles, Movie Turtles, etc.): robot clones. (Michelangelo got a brain transplant into robot clone body of his own after my brother threw him into a door.)

He was bullied and ostracized throughout elementary and Junior High.

For nine out of twelve years of schooling, I was a very popular target (although not by far the only one, and I confess with shame that I was more than willing to deflect attention from me to those lower on the totem pole). I was "That Weird Kid"; even many of the ones who didn't actively harass me often looked at me askew. Changed direction to walk on the other side of the hall, pointedly sat in other seats, and so on.

Them, I didn't mind so much, because I was too busy with the overt cruelty. Gym class, regular classes, lunch, the playground, the school bus; nowhere was safe. The school bus was the worst; there was a song. I won't discuss the song. Suffice it to say that when the word "malice" turned up on a word-a-day calendar I owned, I read the definition with a hideous sense of intimacy.

No doubt the weird behaviors and drawing in, combined with the medication, only exacerbated the abuse with a cyclical effect. Growing older seemed to hold no respite…

I was not the happiest of kids: sensitive, moody, in trouble more often than not at school, at once idolizing and despising my more popular, athletic older brother. And from all I could tell, adolescence would be no kinder; the addition of girls and dating, the pressure of beginning to choose a path for myself, seemed to be only more complications. And that was if I was lucky enough for it to be normal; boarding school and military academies were not un-discussed in the search for a remedy to my constant behavior problems

He turned to books, comics, collected Marvel Trading Cards, anything to dull the pain of being Woodchuck. He obsessively watched Disney Afternoon cartoons and became a Ducktales Superfan.

Today, he lives in NYC, a writer. Successful, you’d think, but it’s a façade. The truth is cruel. Since graduating college in 2004 and moving to NYC 9 years ago, he has worked a total of 2 years, 8 months doing hourly work while maintaining apartments in the Bronx and Queens. His father supports him materially in every other way, paying for food, rent ($900/month), clothing, health insurance ($750 a month for COBRA currently), medication, therapy, money for Comic Conventions, drinks and dinners out, movies and dates with girlfriend, internet split with roommate, and a monthly alotment of comic books for "reviews"

He has no car and hasn’t driven for years, not since college and perhaps not since high school. As of 2008 he was still receiving “birthday money.” He drinks Smirnoff Ice. How does one become so pozzed? Next, we’ll look at his Education, and see how it developed him into the “man” he is.

It is an incontrovertible scientific fact that the greatest era of weekday afternoon television is the fall of 1987 through the spring of 1992. I can prove this on an Etch-A-Sketch. If you need a reason why my generation doesn’t like to go outside, look no further. Outside? Cartoons are on! I don’t know how the other timeslots handled it, but starting at 3 PM Central, every red-blooded American latchkey kid, myself included, had an appointment with Michael Eisner. An eviler corporate scumfuck there has never been, but dammit, he filled up my afternoons.

The Golden Age began, as many things do, with a duck. Specifically, Scrooge McDuck, the miserly uncle to Donald, whose adventures as chronicled by Carl Barks in the Dell/Gold Key comics of the 1950s served as the basis for DuckTales, the first component of the Greatest Syndicated Programming Block Ever, the Disney Afternoon.* Ducktales is, quite simply, one of the best cartoons ever produced in America.

The year after these four shows ran back-to-back, I was beside myself with anticipation. What would come next? As it turned out, the answer was “the inevitable decline of the concept.” Fall 1992’s entry, Goof Troop, was, while not an abomination, a definite abandonment of the paradigm that had been so successful before. Perhaps the well had run dry, but still… Well, no use second guessing decade-old decisions. What we’re sure of are the results: GT was a pedestrian sitcom in animated form, unremarkable in pretty much every aspect. I remember sitting through the pilot, wondering when they were going to find a treasure map or something, and realizing about halfway through the final act that they weren’t. It was utterly ordinary, the worst possible sin in kidvid. The Golden Age was over.

During my brief tenure with the Boy Scouts (which went about as well as can be expected, which is to say, not at all), I went on a few camping trips. On these trips, I acquired anywhere from ten to thirty chigger bites on my legs, arms, and posterior, on average. For those of you who grew up in the city, chiggers are invisibly tiny little insects who hate you and want to see you suffer. The itching from their bites is hard to describe, but let me try: You're waiting three hours in a doctor's office in Inwood where the TV is stuck on Fox News. And you're there for hemmorhoids. And the radio plays Dawn Carolyn Johnson caterwauling "So Complicated" every fifteen minutes. It's like that, except under your skin.

So, I scratched those things like a motherfucker. And, as happens when you remove a several layers of skin via fingernail, scabs eventually formed. Little obsessive-compulsive that I am, I picked them. I picked them in the shower. I picked them on the school bus. I picked them at lunch. I picked them watching TV. I picked them at the movies. Look, I've got issues, OK? The point is, I was like a rat pushing the cocaine button with those little things. And no matter how many times my mom told me to stop picking at it, I couldn't. It's just in my genes. I'm a born scab-picker.

[Mailorder Divorcee]

Who cares? It's still funny. And it's good that the SA posters he lords it up over know how pathetic the man is who bans them.

Don't get me wrong, you should go ahead and do it because it's fucking funny. My point was that you and everyone else should be aware that you're not going to "bring him down" like you did with EPW.

[Crusading Scrotal Sack]

[whatthedickesisthis]

During my brief tenure with the Boy Scouts (which went about as well as can be expected, which is to say, not at all), I went on a few camping trips. On these trips, I acquired anywhere from ten to thirty chigger bites on my legs, arms, and posterior, on average. For those of you who grew up in the city, chiggers are invisibly tiny little insects who hate you and want to see you suffer. The itching from their bites is hard to describe, but let me try: You're waiting three hours in a doctor's office in Inwood where the TV is stuck on Fox News. And you're there for hemmorhoids. And the radio plays Dawn Carolyn Johnson caterwauling "So Complicated" every fifteen minutes. It's like that, except under your skin.

So, I scratched those things like a motherfucker. And, as happens when you remove a several layers of skin via fingernail, scabs eventually formed. Little obsessive-compulsive that I am, I picked them. I picked them in the shower. I picked them on the school bus. I picked them at lunch. I picked them watching TV. I picked them at the movies. Look, I've got issues, OK? The point is, I was like a rat pushing the cocaine button with those little things. And no matter how many times my mom told me to stop picking at it, I couldn't. It's just in my genes. I'm a born scab-picker.

The wreck of the mind

[Black Gardener]

 
The Dawg always delivers.

[LITERALLY A RAPIST]

address is a little bit too far imo but the rest is great stuff