i received your message this morning and wish very much that i felt safe directly replying in the manner you richly deserve. unfortunately, it’s out of the question. but here, i will be very clear:
i don’t need to hear from your references. i know more than enough about you already. you are not going to live in my beautiful home, because, sadly, i know what happens when women invite you into their homes. you are not “also a young professional with a quiet lifestyle.” you are not “also” anything — you are not the least bit like me. you have no control and no conscience.
i’m sure you were keen on the idea of moving in with some unsuspecting young thing, and i hate to disappoint you.
but you are a raping piece of shit and i hope you rot in hell.