Why can't we just have a proper showdown at high noon?

I'm engaged! (insert appropriate squealing now!!!)
ENGAGED! As in, someone wants to marry me and live with me forever. He wants to deal with me when I'm whiney (which is often), he's comfortable with my random antics (which are ridiculous and only amusing to some, as evidenced by my last not quite so amused significant other), and he even joins me in my loud off key singing renditions of songs at every hour of every day. It must be love right?
He loves my puppies, he even calls them (overgrown monstrously spoiled +100 pound beasts) "puppies."
He's English, so I swoon whenever he opens his mouth to say, well anything. And he seems to find me, all of me, ridiculous history, demons, skeletons (all of whom have been neatly hung on racks in the closet after being properly aired), and "interesting' family--all of it together, he finds me perfect.
Ok, so you're sick of this, you're wondering, "Seriously, is she just posting a rant about how happy she is? Because if so I'd rather stop reading this and go shove a hot poker under my fingernail."
Well no, that's not the point, and I'll get onto bigger and more important things.
So here's the thing. I'm happy, thrilled with my life, but much more importantly, I'm thrilled with me. I'm thrilled with the changes I've made in my life. I'm proud of me, all of me. And goddamn, it's been a long difficult freaking journey.

So a week or two ago both myself and Mark receive anonymous emails. Mark being warned to steer clear of me. Mine telling me I'm a hopeless drunk and that I'm a horrible person.
What?

I mean seriously?
Best part? There have been several emails. Each more rude and out of line than the next.

Now I'm not even going to address the pettiness of such emails. I mean, if you've got a problem with someone, come out and say it. Call me a bitch, say I've run over your kittens (I haven't, no really, I swear). Call me out into the center of town for a showdown Ok Corral style. Because I'll come. Anyone that knows me knows that I'm not only absolutely thrilled at the idea of a showdown at high noon, but also inclined to get a whole outfit and show up guns blazing.
I mean, I am after all, my fathers daughter.
I am genetically programmed to have a tendency to lean towards guns and violence. So, to whomever you are out there, the coward hiding behind false email names and throwing out rude and childish taunts and insults, "Grow the fuck up."

But speaking of my father...
Before we go further, you each need to understand that my father, he's, well, a LITTLE eccentric. He's got a canon, a WORKING canon in his living room. It's got a doily on it. He's got the most extensive collection of firepower I've ever seen amassed outside of Windsor Castle, and frankly, it's more menacing than that because it's newer and much more functional. He's also slightly paranoid. And has a STRONG belief that he needs to prepare to fortify his house and property for a fight to the death.
Now, bearing that in mind. He's also against marriage. Entirely.
He's also convinced the war for America's freedom from England is still ongoing.
And I'm bringing home an English fiance.

Now I ask you, rude emails from an unknown source, or overcoming my father's predisposition against the English? Which do you think bears more weight in my life? I mean, while those emails are slightly amusing, I'm completely flabbergasted that someone has gone to so much effort to bug me. They clearly have far too much time on their hands (yes, I'm aware that I'm stating this while writing a blog, which probably means that I too have too much time on my hands).

Oh, and PS: Cyberstalking and email harassment; this is pretty illegal in several states already, and growing due to the silly actions of persons just like yourself. And it's highly illegal in all of Europe (don't worry, you've already been reported:)