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It’s no secret I haven’t been on staff for as long as some of the crew. So there was a couple things I had to learn on the job. This is the story of how I found out about, and became the target of, “he who must not be named.”

There I was. Standing in my kitchen, slurping my morning coffee, and looking at the notifications on my phone.

Since joining the Turtleboy staff I find myself with more and more apps to do what I call “working my evil.” It’s basically the life of a professional Internet troll. This leaves my mornings open for scrolling through the mass amounts of comments, emails, and generalized lurking that comes with the job. It’s an amusing way to start the day.

Anyways, one particular morning last week, my screen was lit up with notifications from some dude named Kevin Lynch. He had been commenting the whole time I was in bed. He was blowing up my comments on the webpage, which seemed weird, because most people just do so on Facebook. Turtleboss usually knows these people so I sent him a text.

TG: “Dude, who is this Kevin Lynch guy? He’s been blowing up the comment section all night saying that I’ve got drug problems.” 

TB: “lol. How much time you got because I think I would need all day.” 

TG: “Synopsis? Cliff notes? How long could it fucking be? Are you sure it’s the real guy and not just a troll?” 

TB: “lol. No, it’s him. His ramblings are unmistakable. He made the top of the naughty list and so he’s back.” 

TG: “Back?????”

Turtleboss proceeded to send me a dozen plus links to read and the stories behind them. I had never seen the original blog but I’m not from around Worcester so it really wouldn’t have caught my attention.

Well, I spent the next two hours pouring over the tale of when the city of Fitchburg asked this fat mess of a dude to shovel the sidewalk in front of his house. He took a moderate Turtlebeating in my eyes. It was a fluff piece compared to what we usually do.

Guy gets mad about having to move his ass. Does something silly like complain about it and act crazy. Here’s some background on the stupid guy. End.

Now, I’m going to tell you something we don’t usually talk about. We don’t print stuff about smart people. You have had done something totally ignorant, slimy, or illegal, for us to write about you. Turtlestaff and I love nothing more than to gossip like little old ladies back and forth about morons.

If someone just laughs it off, or ignores it, the insanity goes away. If you poke the turtle and you’re not a good sport then we will have a part two. The subjects are the ones that continue the story. Pretty much everybody on staff has ADHD. We forget about you pretty quickly and move on to the next lol.

Kevin, as far as I can see it, is mentally incapable of humility. If Kevin had taken a fraction of the energy he uses to lash out at us, (note the tense here) and shoved his fucking sidewalk, he wouldn’t have become nefarious.

But Kevin focuses all his anger, and too much free time, on people who try and cross him. It’s little man syndrome. It’s why he killed a guy and then thought he was smart enough to run for mayor. He has too much free time and too little little common sense to ever stop the crusade.

I’ve never seen anything like him in my entire life. Doesn’t he have a job?? How does he have time for a romantic relationship with his guy? 

But all of that aside, I apparently had a new enemy just by being put on payroll. It’s seemed like a wild concept but it’s become a pretty obvious fact.

“I can promise that he’s doing everything in his power to find out who you are,” Turtleboss said.

What happened next was a hilarious shock. Bret Killoran, who you all know and love, is friends with a number of my aliases on Facebook. Turtleboss must have told him I was asking about Kevin because all of a sudden I was added to this secret Facebook group filled with more than 1K longtime Turtleriders. Most of them had suffered at the hands of “Kevvypoo” or so they call him. The group was a cornucopia of screenshots, stories, and evidence of Kevin’s insanity since becoming the public enemy of the blog. They all had a million screen names because he had spent all his time mass-reporting them for their usual silly comments. One guy, who Lynch incorrectly thinks writes for the blog, had his children plastered all over Facebook by the ex-con. The same ex-con who had smashed a guy’s head in with a golf club. That would have pissed me off too. Kevin had called their jobs, families, messaged people they knew, because of their affiliation with the Turtle.

I sat there reading all of this insanity and became slightly unnerved that this guy wanted my identity on a platter. I sent Mr. Turtlegirl everything that was sent to me, had him make a fake account, and added him to this group. He should probably know what I was potentially bringing in to our home. There is nothing more dangerous than a mentally unstable person, with an axe to grind, who has too much time on his hands.

Honestly. Who tweets Mariah Carey for help bringing down the Turtle? Kevin Lynch. Who goes on LGTBQ Facebook pages and begs for a hand in our demise? Kevin Lynch. Who spends every waking day haunting our Facebook page, website, and readers? Kevin Lynch. Turtleboss thought it would be interesting if I told this story from an outside perspective having not been around for the stout asteroid colliding with Turtleearth.

I personally banned another one of his accounts from the Turtleboy Facebook. He had been writing comments and then deleting them faster than we could ban him. 

The Secret Group had launched a crusade reporting all of his accounts and had gotten his original page banned for a week.

Kevin. Lost. His. Mind. 

Now Kevin doesn’t use aliases with his 900 profiles. Kevin wants you to know it’s Kevin. So, he’s fairly easy to spot. If you’ve got some extra time on your hands you’re welcome to join the shenanigans.

The group also started mocking Kevin on the Worcester Sentinel page. So much so that Kevvy’s brother Brian chimed in. Kevin made up a whole story about Turtleriders threatening to rape his never-aging niece. This didn’t happen. None of us are evil. This, and mass-reporting him, are the limit of our humor: 

Kevin thinks that if he makes up crazy allegations that people will join his one-man bandwagon against us. He’s planning a mass lawsuit that’s never going to happen. He’s afraid that if he walks in to the courthouse he will, like he probably has been his whole life, be laughed out of the room. I think he targeted his own niece because his family were telling him to move on with his life and Kevin needed an excuse for why he wasn’t moving on with his life.

No sooner did I finish reading the content of the secret group did I find my alias names were becoming banned faster than I could make them.

He was actively seeking me out, by haunting Turtbleboss’s friend’s list, and reporting everyone to the Internet Law.

I’ve gone through eight accounts this week.

I told Kevin, via the website commentary section, that I was going to start deleting his comments on my blogs. That, while Turtleboss and the crew may leave his incoherent ramblings, I wasn’t in the mood to be annoyed. He was apparently pissed off about that too. 

A couple of days later, I found myself at a well-known restaurant in Fitchburg. I was with my college friend Tony and our families to just catch up. These are people who all know what my part-time job is. I was in the middle of telling them this wild story about the crazy guy as we walked in to eat. We only stopped talking because the hostess bringing us to our seats. I had stupidly forgotten I was in enemy territory. We sat down, and when I looked up, I could feel the color draining from my face.

Kevin Lynch, in all his maniac glory, was two tables away from and us facing my direction. I grabbed my phone, trying my best not to burst out laughing, and sent a text to everyone at the table. In no way were we to bring up my side gig. Too dangerous. Everyone at the table was doing their best not to turn around and gawk at him. I won’t lie. I almost crapped my pants.

Just in case you were wondering…. he is just as tweaky and obnoxious in person. I watched him shovel his food in his mouth and talk while he was trying to chew. I think he may have been with his Latino lover David but he wasn’t facing me so I couldn’t confirm if it was the sultry bottom sidekick.

As they got up and left I could feel my blood pressure going down.

I had come face to face with a guy who hated my guts and he didn’t even know it was me. Talk about an adrenaline rush.

A couple days later this landed in my mailbox:

I didn’t even write the Gafney blog. I truly feel that it was his attempt to gain my IP address with my response. Sorry Kev, I block all that stuff. I’m smarter than you. I’m not a fan of the page, friends with anyone in the circle, never commented on articles before, and if you run that IP address it’s going to tell you that I’m from some part of Indonesia where people still shit in the dirt. I wonder if he would have handed me a subpoena over my nachos if he knew it was me sitting next to him?

To the Lynch Family: Please, for the love of all that is holy, get this guy some help before he kills someone else. We all have crazy family members and it’s our job to make sure that don’t escape the basement. Your family crazy ran for office….he is your problem. Now please deal with him.

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