Apparently, deeply-indebted and undischarged bankrupt Patrick Ross has decided he has better things to do than file another meritless lawsuit against me, especially since it would be kicked to the curb automatically given that his first attempt was tossed earlier this year for inordinately long delay.
No worries, though, as one of my confidential informants tells me that Patrick is filling his hours as the new heavyweight champion of the UFC:
It's been remarkably calming and peaceful not giving the slightest shit about what Patrick is doing, or what part of northern Alberta he's swamping, or how many cheeseburgers he ate at his last truck stop. One can only wish Patrick the best, and hope that, at the age of 45, he's finally taking a long, hard look at his life and wondering if he's made the best use of his time.
P.S. What Patrick owes me is still increasing several hundred dollars per month, and will continue to do so until, well, forever. Quite simply, he will never be out of debt to me.
P.P.S. Given the amount of money that Patrick owes me, I still invite my confidential informants to keep tabs on Casa Ross in Lloydminster to see if Patrick ever shows up there, whether it eventually goes on the market and so on.
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