2015: The Worst Year of My Life

You might think I've lived a charmed life. This couldn't be further from the truth. I've  been in prison at the hands of crooked police, almost killed by tuberculosis, an screwed by my former business partners, whom without me they would not exist.

But nothing could be worse than 2015!!

Hands down, worst year of my life.

Before anybody gets their panties in a bunch and wants to call lawyers and sue. Here is exactly what I'm worth. The Apple stocks are long gone and I think I have a bit of change on my dresser. I'm not going to take this blog down — so, fuck you in advance!

My net worthI am digressing, let's start this year where it all began…

Jason Quinlan last New Year's Eve
Exactly one year ago, I went to the Rainbow to celebrate New Year's Eve with the singer from my band. I think I was drugged. So did his girlfriend. I distinctly remember asking the bartender for my jacket and keys to get in my house shortly after midnight because I didn't feel right. She was mad because I wasn't staying till the end of her shift, so I wound up hanging around until I was almost murdered by some Hell's Angel. I  couldn't get a cab on Sunset looking like I'd been shot, so I walked over 10 miles to Studio City through the back roads.

I wish I had written this chronologically, because about three years ago I sustained a a more severe head injury. I was at Chris and Ally Haze's pool/porn party with my ex-girlfriend. It was way the hell out in Canyon Country. Around 8 o'clock we wanted to leave, mostly because they had run out of alcohol and we were bored. My girl took me into the garage, I didn't know why, but I guess she wanted to have some fun. Unbeknownst to me, she had locked the door and Chris Hayes (who is a giant steroided out motherfucker) busted it down and blindsides me with a punch to the jaw. The punch wasn't what did the real damage. I split my head open and leaked my brains all over his garage floor. After that I don't remember anything, next that I woke up in the hospital in Burbank and a doctor was telling me to call my immediate family because I was bleeding internally from my brain and had suffered the worst type of stroke possible. In the meantime, Chris Hayes called the police and and tells them I had ran around the party with a pair of scissors trying to cut him. To make it really realistic, he punched a bunch of mirrors, so when the police came, he could shows cuts on his hands. I asked several of my “porn people friends” if they could give a statement telling the truth, but none of these spineless motherfuckers would make one. For the record, I don't believe in going to the police for anything. Problem is, he went there first! If you're reading this and thinking I'm talking about you: FUCK YOU: GET AIDS AND DIE. Looking back, I should have walked to the end of his driveway and called for an ambulance, but somebody gave me a ride home. I suffered permanent front-temporal brain damage, I speak with a stutter ever since. I also got buried in hospital bills. Recently, I noticed alcohol effects me differently. So I don't drink anymore. One of my band mates was at that party, knew what happened, but just decided to stay and have fun with the guy.

Real “bro” move.

Bro.

The whole reason of writing what is above, is to make the point I can not afford any more head injuries.

I spent most January trying to recover. It took me a couple of months to finally get back on my feet, so all I did was work. By this time, the pittance my bullshit ass business partners gave me as “severance” was long gone and I was behind on my house payments.

I put my dream home up for sale. The idiot realtor I hired did an open house that was just supposed to be for other realtors and brokers. I figured he would know everyone there and I wouldn't have to worry about anything. One of the “realtors” went into the drawers in my room and stole $12,000 worth of belongings including a Breitling watch which I loved.


So finally, I figure it's time to try to go out to network and get my business going. I kick anyone's ass at traffic, SEO and marketing. Unfortunately, my old business partners had smeared my name so badly that the only way I could get work was through a few people who still had faith in me, so I worked on projects for far less than I'm worth to prove I wasn't a degenerate. I haven't let a client down yet. I decided to go to the Phoenix Forum to make my “comeback.” I ran into two of my former partners and one of my ex-employees. I didn't say anything to my old business partners, I just ignored them. My ex-employee, who I was still on good terms with, I said hi to him and we went into the bar for drinks. While we were sitting there, I kept noticing {Ex-Business Partner One} keep peeking in the door every five minutes. Eventually, she came in and said he had to go, so I walked out.

As we departed, I stated, “{Ex-Employee}, you are cool {Ex-Business Partner One} you are not cool, and {Ex-Business Partner Two} you are a fat fuck.” I was holding a cocktail napkin folded into a paper airplane. I threw it, it landed on my Chuck Taylors, and started to walk away.

I was kind of shocked, because {Business partner two} was a bit older and out of shape, he got up and said, “Jay, I am going to kick your ass myself.” Even if he hit me, I wouldn't have hit him back. I'm not into elder abuse. It took two seconds to realize how he'd become so emboldened. Before he took two steps toward me, one of their cohorts was lurking behind me, put me in a head-lock and dragged me to the ground and {Business Partner Two} sat on me until security came. Judging by Planks Gravitational Constant, I felt Moby Dick was on top of me. Security showed up, I explained my side of the story, they explained their side and they didn't kick either of us out, they just told us to avoid one other. There was still one more day left, I got to my hotel,  decided that rather than deal with those leeches again tomorrow, so I called the airline and left Phoenix on the first available flight.

I didn't really think about it afterward.

The following week was Easter. I am aware that my social media antics are at times erratic, so my family was worried. They really wanted me to come home, but they had an agenda. It was a full-on intervention. They wanted me to go to a rehab clinic and get on Thorazine. I don't believe in the whole twelve-step system, to me it's just replacing one bad habit with another. Being an atheist, it doesn't exactly fit into my circle of beliefs. So I managed to convince them that I was alright. I don't know how many times I need to repeat this, I am alright. I don't have substance abuse issues. I only drank socially, but if I started drinking, I kept drinking. I can go months at a time without getting wasted and not even think about it.

I don't drink at all now.


On Easter Sunday, I was watching the news about a bus wreck outside of Atlanta involving some heavy metal bands. One of the people critically injured was a dear friend Steven “Skully” Shoemaker. Several others died in the crash. I decided to switch my flight from Providence to Atlanta to show support. I wound up staying in Atlanta for over a week. Things were up and down with Stephen's health. He wound up living, but they said he would probably never walk or play guitar again. From what I understand, he will soon be able to do both and that may be the only bright spot of this blog.

I arrived in LA toward the end of April after being gone for nearly a month. Three days after being home, a Sheriff knocks at my door at 4AM with a Temporary Restraining Order from {Ex-Business Partner One}. At first, I thought someone was playing a joke. It had a court date in a few weeks I had to attent or it would become permanent. Two or three days passed and the same Sheriff showed up with a second restraining order from {Ex-Business Partner Two} (fat fuck) with another court date in an entirely separate district. The only thing the cop said to me, was “You must have pissed someone off, go back to bed.” A couple more days went by and I realized what the restraining order was about. I got a letter from Nevada stating they were suing me for $300,000 for violating the terms of some stupid contract written by the same lawyer who was my attorney and their attorney at the same time. Can anyone say conflict of interest? If you think I'm lying, this is all now a matter of public record at the courthouse in downtown Los Angeles or in Chatsworth.

I was then forced to hire a very expensive lawyer to defend myself. I went to court a few weeks later and the lawyer I hired wound up sending this other woman to court who wasn't even familiar with my case. {Ex-Business Partner One} got up in court and lied to the judge and told him that I had “already broken the restraining order” by retweeting something someone else had written about her. The judge asked me if I had attempted to contact her and I said “no”, which was an honest answer. Then {Ex-Business Partner One} holds up a piece of paper with my tweet on it and the judge is an older guy who doesn't understand social media and didn't understand that and threatened it to throw me in jail for a week for contempt of court.

A week later I go downtown and get my case continued with {Ex-Business Partner Two}.

Finally, I have my day in court in Chatsworth with {Ex-Business Partner One} and the original judge isn't there. I was skeptical of my lawyer that first, but now was seeing that she was pretty good, she said “This is a much safer judge them the original Judge and your case should go much better.” We sit there in court almost all day and just as they're getting to my case the judge closes the court sessions. So again, my case gets continued.

A few weeks later I'm back downtown with that fat, lecherous tranny fucking asshole {Ex-Business Partner Two}. He pulls out his “evidence” of the “threats” I had made against him, the judge takes a look at it and tells him “This looks like you typed this up yourself” and dismisses the case. He then complained about things I said on Facebook or Twitter, but the Supreme Court had just passed a ruling where things on social media cannot be used against you in a criminal trial. So he gets laughed out of court.

One down, one to go.

This whole time I am trying to run my business and also playing in a band. The guys are fully aware this bullshit is sucking all of my money and time. I never missed band practice, when it came to paying rent I usually paid for half the band (sometimes all), I wrote all the material, paid the merch, maintained the website, Facebook page and did almost everything.

By this time, It's the end of August and all of the stress from these hearings and lawsuits has killed my summer. I didn't have one barbecue, go to the beach, or do anything — I was under so much stress I wanted to kill myself!

Now comes the third showdown with {Ex-Business Partner One} in Chatsworth.   She brought that fucking lecherous  {Ex-Business Partner Two} to come in and testify against me even though he already lost his case in Los Angeles, I still had to go through the whole thing again. This judge was no fan of me either. One of the highlights of this trial, and just so you know this is all a matter of public record you can go down to Chatsworth Courthouse and retrieve this yourself if you think I'm bullshitting. My lawyer who I now had the utmost faith in, cross-examines {Ex-Business Partner Two} she asks him, “What did Mr. Quinlan say to you that made you feel threatened?” and he responded (uh-uh) “He said I'm going to kill you and your whole family.” Then she gets the copy of the police report and asks, “When you made this report the next day back in April these are the facts the best you can remember them am I correct?” He responded “yes”. So she then asked {Ex-Business Partner Two} why she doesn't see that on the report. He doesn't know what to say so she responds, “Are you telling me, {Ex-Business Partner Two} your memory has improved in the last five months?”

Coup De Grâce!

She got {Ex-Employee}, who I am sure she threatened with his job, to come testify against me. He more or less, stuck to the facts, and by this time, it was already getting to be noon and my lawyer had an appointment at a nearby courthouse and she asked if the trial could be resumed at 2 o'clock.

She says I can go with her to the other courthouse and we were discussing the case. I asked, “How do you think it's going?” She says, “Generally I don't put my clients on the stand, but I am going to ask the judge if he feels inclined to grant the restraining order, if he does I want you to get on the stand, if not you won't.

{Ex-Business Partner One} pulled out all the stops and when she gets up on the stand, someone needs to get that cunt a copy of the Webster's Dictionary because she clearly has no idea what the word “perjury” means. She flat out lied, embellished and fabricated most of her testimony. Then {Ex-Business Partner One} goes into an extended monolog about what a dangerous, scary, gun-toting thug I am. I'm a total pacifist. I don't even know how to load or fire a gun, much less own one.

She gets done with her song and dance and my attorney asks the judge if he feels inclined to grant the restraining order, if so, she would like me to take the stand and if not we could just let it rest. The judge replied, “I want your client to take the stand.” Which I was expecting.

My attorney asked me a few questions and unlike {Ex-Business Partner One} I stuck to the facts. {Ex-Business Partner One} cross-examines me showing the judge pictures from almost a decade ago that she had trawled off my Facebook even though I have her blocked. I don't know who should be filing a restraining order on who by now. My attorney had to remind did judge that The Supreme Court had just made a ruling about social media. The judge was totally unaware of this. He had to take a recess and goes back into his chambers to read the law.

As soon as he returns, {Ex-Business Partner One} continues her closing statements tirade and pulling out various pieces of social media and finally, the judge says, “the social media evidence is inadmissible, the communication must be direct, via mail, email or fax”, but that does not stop her and she just continues screaming away. Finally, my attorney gets to make her closing statement which she stated very eloquently that I was not a threat and there was also a large financial reason behind these restraining orders. As my lawyers talking in mid sentence the judge says, “I am not going to grant this restraining order” and {Ex-Business Partner One} breaks into tears, “But Your Honor” to which he replied “I have ruled.”

Let's sum up these restraining orders: They felt threatened by a cocktail napkin that landed on my shoes. They referred to it as “assault with a heavy object”.

Fucking retards.


Now, I've won both of the restraining order cases, but I still have to face the $350,000 lawsuit which is coming out of the state of Nevada. I asked for a recommendation and I was referred to a lawyer who wants $75,000 just to take my case.

Feeling slightly emboldened, I sent an email to their attorney and told him that I had just won both restraining order cases. I bluffed, and said I had enough money to fight the case in Nevada, but there is a high chance by the time it was done, I wouldn't have a dime. I extended an olive branch and offered to pay for his legal fees to drop the case and agreed not to take {Ex-Business Partner One} and {Ex-Business Partner Two} to court to recoup my expenses. After negotiation, everyone agrees. I had to send their lawyer a shitload more money for his legal fees.

October, 8th 2013 was the day Google started unrolling the penguin update, which I expected and prepared for. Our websites hit an all-time high in search engine traffic. It was also the same day my idiot business partners stabbed me in the back and forced me out. As soon as word got out that I was a free agent I was literally bombarded with offers. One was from an ex-employee who I had given his first job to and he embezzeled $50,000. To be honest, after what I just been through I couldn't blame him. He said he was sorry about the way things went down and he had the blueprint to make money he was just having trouble doing it himself. It was another adult venture, which I didn't want to do, but I could see the potential for profit. I worked on the project for six months and it generated $300,000 which was supposed to be split 50-50. Every time I would ask about the money I would get the runaround. Then one day he just cut off all my access to everything related to our company and I never goy a dime. In 2014 I filed a lawsuit against him and he counter-sued me. After what I'd just been through we both opted to settle out of court. Again, I was forking over around 10 grand in attorneys fees.

If that motherfucker died tomorrow I would gladly piss on his grave.

Fucking piece of shit.

Meanwhile, my house isn't selling, any money to pay the mortgage is all been going into lawyers and fighting stupid on frivolous lawsuits. I'm about a year behind on paying my mortgage by September.


September 11, which is my birthday. My band was playing the next night so we were supposed to rehearse. I still had my amps at my house so I braved the 4 o'clock LA traffic to drive them up to the valley. Then I got a call from the guys and they were out at a bar that wasn't too far from where I lived drinking. I drove all the way back, took a uber to the bar and we started day-drinking. I figured I might as well have some fun after everything I've been through, plus it's my birthday, right?

We drank in Studio City for three or four hours, bought some beer, go to the practice room to drink, and then just look at our guitars and those guys decide they want to go to the local bar around the corner. I always hated this bar because every night there would be some kind of drama. Our drummer, in particular, always had problems with different people there. So we get to the bar at about 8 o'clock and by this time I'm pretty wasted and we do a bunch more shots. To be honest, that's the last thing I can remember before I completely blacked out, in part because I hadn't eaten all day.

Next thing I remember, I wake up in the trunk of a car in Chatsworth when the door lifts, the morning sun shines in, and get dumped out on the ground in a schoolyard parking lot. I thought they were bringing me to that parking lot to kill me, which I was fine with, but some old couple walked by with the dog and scared them off.

My phone is dead, so I've no idea where I am, so I started walking in what I thought was the right direction. Finally, after walking for about 20 miles, I go into Albertsons and ask if I can use the payphone to call a cab.

I get to my house and some girl that is they're trying to figure out what happened to me starts chewing me out about how I've gotten the rest of my band beaten up. I told her I've no idea what you're talking about. And then she sends me these pictures of those guys all beat up and she said it was my fault because I had made some jokes about Armenians. That might be true, that might not be true. I don't know I don't remember. I had brain damage, hadn't eaten, and blacked out. If that's really what happened, then I'm sorry. What nobody ever brought up was our drummer had problems with that same group of people before. I find it strange that I supposedly started fight, yet I didn't have a scratch.

That doesn't make sense.

We were supposed to play the next night, and when it comes to music — I'm a trooper. I tried to get a hold of them, but the next thing I know I'm looking at pictures of them playing on stage without me on Facebook.

I won't give the band any exposure by mentioning their name. I was kicked out. Despite the fact, that band wouldn't be doing jack shit if it hadn't been for me. When I join the group they had been around for five years or maybe more and they knew how to play five songs. When I joined the band I, doubled the amount of material and was the sole songwriter, I developed and maintained their website, they're social media, I paid the rent on our rehearsal room all the time because they “didn't have any money.” I also paid for all of their merch, CDS T-shirts, a good percentage of the recording budget even though I was struggling financially. They always made jokes about my age, I think the band just wanted to get rid of me, even though I have more talent in my pinky than the band combined. They just wanted to put old horse out to pasture, but not before they had sucked me dry of everything they could take.

After a couple of days, I keep getting harassing messages from the singer talking about how I had made him miss a thousand dollars worth of work. I finally got sick of it and just PayPaled him the money even though I had $1040 and my fucking account. It was funny, he never had any money when it came time to pay rent on the rehearsal room, but all of a sudden I cost him 1000$! This is the same asshole who stayed at the party and hung out the night I had almost died three years ago.

Some “bro” right?

I really felt like those guys were my good friends and “brothers”. I know now otherwise they're just like everyone else in this stupid fucking town. People just use you for all your worth in them once they've taken all they can they scatter like water bugs. I de-friended every single member of that band on Facebook and blocked their phone numbers and as far as I'm concerned they're dead to me.

Since September 11, I haven't left the house at all. I just tried to stay busy at my work which I'm also becoming increasingly frustrated about. I'm on the verge of giving up. I deliver excellent results, but nobody wants to pay me what I'm worth, in part because all of my stupid ex-fucking business partners did so much to damage my reputation.

In November, I developed a severe flu which took me out of commission until a few weeks ago. The year closed up, with the death of Lemmy.


It is now 11:42 PM on New Year's Eve, I'm sitting here alone, as all of my so-called “friends' haven't shown their face in months. The only time anyone gets in touch with me is if they think I can be useful to them. My house is in foreclosure, the holidays stalled the process a bit, but tomorrow I expect it to kick into overdrive.

There is nothing positive in my future. At this point, I don't feel like living. I'm going to finish writing my memoirs, I'm going to finally learn how to use a gun and put a bullet through my head.


JQ

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Internet marketer, writer, musician, pacifist, Internet nerd, SEO genius -- the most notorious guy you've never heard of.

43 thoughts on “2015: The Worst Year of My Life”

  1. Come on, dude. Life is like a razors edge. Offing yourself doesn’t do any good, it just creates food for worms. Learn from these idiots that you’ve associated with and don’t make the same mistakes. Besides, Jason, it is Hollywood and all that entails, what did you expect?

    1. I have been in this quagmire for three years. I think it’s been said before, suicide is the ultimate form of self-expression. Maybe some of these assholes will feel guilty later.

      Probably not

      1. Look bro, my brother committed suicide, it doesn’t change the attitudes of others. Trust me, there is no one who will feel guilty. There are things you could do that help your financial problems. Rent your house out, or some rooms, work at an hourly job, anything. Get another band together, quit playing with 20 year old’s that spend more on their tattoos than on their music.

  2. You think you are the only one with problems? You spent New Years Eve alone? Welcome to the real world, shit happens. Fuck dude, today is my birthday, you think anybody really gives a shit? No they don’t, because like you said, once your usefulness is played out to these fair weather “friends”, they are like rats on a sinking ship, the first off. How many of those ‘parties’ at your home did you foot the bill for? I bet they all dug into the stash and cash when it was there. “I got dozens of friends and the fun never ends as long as I’m buying.” Sounds like an old line from Styx. Tell me I’m wrong.

      1. Good, now we are on the same page. Now you’re broke and not enough dough to put suds in the Jacuzzi where are they now? You got used for what you had in your pocket at the time, you got used for having a little experience being an older musician. People are ghouls, simple as that. I lived in LA for quite a while and I always had that sixth sense that I was nothing but a tool in someones tool box. I quit playing in bands because I couldn’t stand the apathy and attitude of most musicians. The really obnoxious where those who had the most limited amount of talent and goals.

          1. You’ve seen the movie ‘Clockwork Orange’. Think about what Little Alex said in the police station about his ‘so-called droogs’. Who won in the last chapter, “I was cured all right”. By the way, I may be older, but don’t call me sir, I haven’t earned that distinction nor do I think it is proper. Speaking of a ‘razors edge’. There is a movie that stars Bill Murray called ‘The Razors Edge’ by Somerset Maugham, written about the PTSD that Larry Daryl (the characters name) suffers from his experience during WW1. Try watching it, it may help seeing how superficial people can be.

  3. Hey Jason,
    You don’t know me, I don’t know you but I’ve been reading these blogs of yours since I came across you from the other side of our fucking world in little ole New Zealand. Yup, the Charlie Sheen debacle made international headlines, you made my newsfeed.
    Don’t know what the fuck is going on for you dude, and I’ve got no right to speculate, but, I’ve been enjoying these stories of yours. I would enjoy them more with a good ole proof read, cause they are hard to get through in the current form.
    Anyhoo, just thought I’d drop ya a line, cause this poor me shite is not very becoming and you seem like a good fella.
    Hope you get outta ya funk soon. Seems to me there’s more of you the world needs to see.
    Good luck.

    1. I have traveled a good bid, but again you’re one step ahead of me. My thoughts were when I leave here I was just going to leave the country completely

      1. You gotta quit talking about offing yourself though, bro. I would hate to think the last moments of any ones life was wasted reading my comments, they are not that important, just an observation. Besides, who not revenge be better served by success rather than failure? Unless you got something to prove to the world, whatever you do should be for you, not for the entertainment of those around you. It is when you are invited to those backyard parties by others rather then them coming to you is when you have achieved respect.

          1. Well for one, your parents would probably think it would suck. That reason enough should be good. Another, it is a waste of talent. It’s not like LA isn’t full of musicians to be in a band with. They don’t have to live the life of Hollywood, just be there when it counts. If you lose the house, so what? Millions have lost theirs, they just downsize if needed. Did you ever try renting your house to the movie studios? They rent them all the time for films. Look at Robert Downey Jr. He was suck crack in a cardboard box and look where he is now. You just got to use the Epicurean way of philosophy, which is, not too much, not too little when partying and socializing. Don’t be a tool because of some other fools.

          2. I’m 44 years old. It’s a little bit late for a second chance. All I want to do is pump out these memoirs remembering when I did have a life and then terminate my misery

  4. The adult industry attracts so much bullshit. It was a fun ride 10 years ago when money was good and you didn’t have to work hard to make more than 95% of the population, but since the later 00’s it’s been a bitch for 99% of webmasters trying to do it solo.

    It sucks.

    Your life is full of regrets about what you could have done or should have done. Not one fucking day passes where I don’t think about all the money I spent and now have so damn little I have now.

    Missed opportunities.

    It fucking sucks.

    It fucking sucks even more when you think about all the fucking rats who made mint and actually got away with it by being low life thieves. There are so many in the adult industry that scammed their way to big $$.

    It fucking sucks when you try to play fair and be honest against thieves. It fucking sucks when the business world (not just adult, but business in general) is filled with two-faced assholes who just use you and don’t give a fuck when you can’t do anything for them.

    Getting old fucking sucks too when you feel like you’re declining rather than building. When you fucking know that the chances of you every getting back to where you were are so fucking slim that it’s daunting.

    It happens to lots of us man. People who had no money and simple fucking childhoods and all of a sudden got some money and are able to afford shit that at one time seemed fucking unreachable. Happens to athletes, musicians, and on a lower scale to simple webmasters like you and I.

    But you got stories. Some pretty cool experiences, good and bad, that a lot of people never get to live through. At the end all the material shit means nothing, all that you’re left with is the memories.

    And if getting into the adult biz taught me one thing, it’s that you never know what’s around the corner. You never know what fucking goldmine is around the corner that will change your life. I had a $1000 to my name in 1999, shit changed after I started making sites.

    Sure, it’s fucking 17 years later and I don’t have much more to my name, but at least I fucking spent 17 years without conforming and working at some bullshit job, taking orders from some asshole.

    We all need change eventually. Especially when things are at their worst. A fresh start does wonders. Holding on to the past when it’s not working is a recipe for depression. A memory should be a memory. Something to smile about or get pissed off about, not to hold on until it fucking kills you.

    And you never know what’s around the corner and that’s worth living for cuz the ultimate facepalm is dying and then realizing if you lived 1 day longer, you’d have won the lottery, lol.

    All you can do is laugh and take it day by fucking day and try a bit to create a better tomorrow.

    So from one person who fucked up their first act to another who fucked up their first act, here’s to the second or third act being better.

    1. Yeah, I’ve been trying to phase out of it… The trouble is people have a hard time accepting you in the “mainstream” world because what you’ve done in your past. It’s been really frustrating so far. The only breaks I really God are from people that used to be in industry and we’re smart enough to do something with their life around 2008 when it died

  5. Another amazing story. Douchebag partners….I have been there. However, the last line has me quite disturbed. I don’t know you, but from what I have read on your blog and on Twitter, you are super funny, intelligent, interesting and possess integrity. The world needs more people with these qualities.

    I get that you have problems, we all do. Life throws tremendous curveballs at times, enough to make or break you. Listen, please know that you have people who care for you and are there for you. Sometimes all it takes is for you to ask for help from at least one of them if things get really tough. Have lots and lots of (protected) sex and get a dog. Lol

    With regard to you r foreclosure, get another RE agent and explore short selling. Someone else mentioned renting out your home. What about Airbnb?

    Please stop with the suicide talk. You don’t need to go there. 🙂

    1. Yeah yeah, I don’t know. Lately I just felt like a bit existing and I don’t really know why. I have a bunch of other cool shit that I’m going to write that’s a lot happier, But the thing that sucks as I haven’t had anything good to write about last three years.

      maybe that is just my Hunter S Thompson coming out

      Trust me, if there’s anybody who wants things to change for me it’s me

  6. You have got a lot going for you.

    By the way, my favorite blog post was your first IM concert and the subsequent arson incident. I’ve read it at least 5x and laugh my ass off every time. For that alone, you have my support. Lol

    1. Thanks, now that I know that this thing is not going to be just a one hit wonder from the whole Charlie Sheen thing now I am going to really get to writing the fun stuff… Should it be Jerry Springer, Howard Stern, the corrupt police officers in south Georgia, or the time Olive Stone tried to stab me with an X-Acto knife?

  7. wtf JQ enough of this shit talk. Suicide sucks big donkey balls; I ought to know my wife offed herself 15 years ago and it still sucks donkey balls. In less than 24 hours I lost an entire family. Every day thereafter was the worst hell imaginable. Those left behind endure almost insurmountable agony daily; sometimes for a lifetime.

    After I was kind of in the space you for years are but I made it worse by moving to Romania and opening a live cam studio and goin broke. Ripped off from day 1 by anybody and everybody, threatened by mobsters who watched way too much TV and generally screwed up the ass w/o lube. Going broke sucks but it sucks far worse alone and cold in eastern Europe.

    You have no idea who the fuck I am but dude you are pretty much a legend in traffic generation; Romanians even know of your skills. Stop with the poor me shit you are better than that; much better. Like you I know my shit when it comes to cams it was an expensive lesson but I know my shit. I can teach any model how to double, triple or quadruple her money just wish I wish was doing it for myself rather than others who pay me shit. Imagine the mind fuck of being paid $375 a month when you can teach models how to earn $500 a day and you know more than the asshat’s little finger who owns the joint. Fuck me I’m paid less in a month than what I teach these girls to earn in a day. But you know what the models love me so I keep going on because I dont want to let them down. If I had your mad fucking skills I could make bank on this side of the former iron curtain.

    Find once again your awesome. More than your life depends on it. Hope the fuck this wasnt click bait and I swallowed.

    1. NThat NewYork Times plug that I got today was seriously uplifting… It gave me a reason to forge on thank you for your encouragement and kind words

          1. 🙂 NYT, yeah it’s a big deal and you can piggyback your future endeavors from it. Connect with the author via LinkedIn.

  8. Jay we have had our short battle and it was all a misunderstanding. The Misunderstanding was due to one of your Ex Business partners not the fat guy. Total respect for you and I feel for you. Although we have never met heard you were a good person from Sindee Amy and many others. I wish we knew each other as they mentioned many times we would have been a super alliance.
    XXXJay is a legend in your craft and line of work. Turns out I know many who also knows you and never heard a single bad word except from your miserable partner who I have regrets to have ever met such a greedy Liar where lies are an art form by its years of constant repetition on a daily basis.
    XXXJay nothing but respect for you although I heard we were cyber foes.
    You seem very distrot for now but look who is telling you this…JUST A MATTER OF TIME you will bounce back and with greater maturity and experience coupled with a lesson on trusting the wrong Bitch. Take it easy ole friend and focus on what you are capable of. You No longer drink thus you are a formidable force.
    Best of wishes to you.
    Remember this ……You no longer have the baggage of distractions as a result of being in LA.

    1. Awesome comment man… What was the argument about? Was it GFY thing? If so, what is your handle on there? Anyways, there’s definitely no hard feelings.

      Yeah, that sucks we both had to learn the hard way. 🙂

      But at least we learned. Right?

    2. “t such a greedy Liar where lies are an art form by its years of constant repetition on a daily basis.” – man, that is a great quote. I wish I had thought of that one because it is so true

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