About My Friend Mr. Jeff Hannemen

Three Years Ago Today: The Highlight of My Musical “Career”

I'm sticking with the Heinekens, but doing a few shots here and there.
– Jeff Hanneman

I did not have plans to add this post until I saw a memory from 3 years ago pop up in my Facebook feed. It was a scant three years ago when my friend, the better guitar player in Slayer, and notorious recluse Mr. Jeff Hanneman introduced Dick Delicious and the Tasty Testicles add a show in Spartanburg, South Carolina.

At the beach with Jeff Hannemen don't tell me how to ruin my life
As I mentioned in other posts, some of the craziest stories still sitting in a Microsoft Word document. I have a lot of almost unbelievable stories involving Jeff, including but not limited to handing him his guitar (later became my guitar) right before he walked on stage at the Big 4 in Indio California (his last performance with Slayer.)

I shot this video of Jeff Hannemen's final performance in Indio California
Because of my utmost respect for the man both as a human being and a personal hero, I have been holding these tales back (unlike Sebastian Bach or Charlie Sheen). There are a lot of people in heavy metal that claim to be “the real deal, ” but Jeff was true to the core.

There will be more about Mr. Hannemen in future posts.

Until we are again reunited…somewhere “South of Heaven.”

At the rate I'm going, it won't be long.

JQ

Grammarly Writing Support

If you would like to help me keep writing so I don't have to keep sneaking into Starbucks for WIFI and can actually order of mocha Frapuccino, donations are always appreciated!

jason quinlan paypal

Charlie Sheen May Be Prison Bound!

I hate to tell you, but told you so. My Google alert for “Charlie Sheen HIV” picked up this activity today:

Prison-Bound? Charlie Sheen ‘Faces Criminal Liability’ In HIV Cover-Up

Secret recordings prove actor lied about having the deadly disease.

Charlie Sheen was caught on tape confessing he hid his HIV-positive status from one of his lovers — and he could now face serious time behind bars for the cover-up, according to legal experts.

In chilling tapes secretly recorded by Sheen’s former lover and obtained by RadarOnline.com, not only did the 50-year-old actor admit to having unprotected sex with her after his HIV-positive diagnosis, but he also told the woman he was clean before they did the deed.

Read the rest of the article:
http://radaronline.com/celebrity-news/charlie-sheen-hiv-tape-recordings-potential-legal-criminal-charges/

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

My Friend Lemmy

Jason Quinlan and lemmy 69th birthday

Ammended: I year later:

I was one of the first people to find out about the tragic death of Lemmy Kilmister this past Monday.

I was expecting it. A lot of people were. Last I saw of “Lem” was at his 70th birthday at The Whiskey. It was a Hollywood shit show. He didn’t seem to be himself. He was supposed to perform that night, but never took the stage. Despite what is told about the drugs or the Jack n’ Coke permanently affixed to his right hand: Lemmy was one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met, even if you couldn’t understand his thick British accent. Something was different that night, as if he’d already left us.

His 70th birthday was a stark contrast to his 69th, which I was also at. It was a relatively low-key event with about 10 people. One was this girl I thought was flirting with me. I didn’t realize utill after she left it was my dream woman: Carmen Electra.

I could say Lemmy was a friend. He knew my name. For a man constantly bombarded by strangers, that’s more than most people can say. Over the past dozen years, we spent hundreds of nights elbow-to-elbow drinking at The Rainbow.

I’ve always been a huge Motorhead fan. My first album was the leather-bound double LP of “No Remorse” which Lemmy later told me “is worth some money” and “he wished he had a copy,” so I gave him mine.


For all of the “Cult-Of-Lemmy”, it didn’t translate into much financially, until much later in his career after being ripped off by countless managers and record labels. It wasn’t until the early 90s that he secured the royalties for many of the songs he’s best known for.

Lemmy was pleasant to everyone even though I felt he was treated like an object of curiosity. If you wanted to get on his bad side, you could be that douchebag jock screaming the “The Ace Of Spades.” He wasn’t too fond of that.

Our paths first crossed almost 20 years ago, backstage at the AVN Awards. I was surrounded by porn stars, but I was most awestruck when Lemmy came strolling through the room.

“Oh my God, you are Lemmy!! What are you doing here?”

He replied, “I love Vegas” and kept walking.

A few years later, I was formally introduced to him by Cory Parks of the band Nashville Pussy, who is about to tour with Motörhead. I was roommates with their drummer Jeremy “Remo” Thompson. I asked him if I could be a groupie and go with them to a few shows in Florida.

After a few days on the road, I got to know the Motörhead guys a bit. After the shows, we would always go on their bus and drink until the sun came up. Lemmy took me aside one night, “Hey mate, I want you to hear the kind of music I really like.” Then he brought me to the front of the bus and played some demo tracks of him doing Chuck Berry songs. The music sounded exactly like the classic 50s, just with Lemmy’s trademark snarl over the top. To be honest, I didn’t really like it.

The next night, while drinking on the bus, he did the exact same thing and took be up to the front of the bus and had me listen to the same songs as if the previous night had never happened. I wasn’t sure if Lemmy didn’t remember or was just fucking with me.

I’m inclined to think the latter.

After a few nights of hanging out with Motörhead, I was hung over as fuck. I was staying at the same hotel as them. The next morning, Lemmy walked through the lobby looking quite spry, probably hadn’t slept, Jack N’ Coke in hand, and asked me, “What are you drinking mate?”

I was drinking a Snapple, but I was kind of embarrassed. I held it up to him.

He quipped, “A Snapple?”

I said, “Yeah, but there’s vodka in it.”

He took it out of my hand, sniffed it, and laughed “There is no vodka in that, it’s just a Snapple!”

I have so many other great Lemmy stories, but that’s my favorite for some reason.

Lemmy packed 7000 years of living into his 70 years on this planet, enriched the lives of millions through his music, and single-handedly invented modern speed metal, whether he’ll take credit for or not.

That all being said, he will be sadly missed.

Valhalla, you have a new bass player.

Hail Lemmy!!

JQ


PS: I’ve said for years that Lemmy’s autobiography “White Line Fever” is the best rock book ever written. For a guy whose career stretches back to being a roadie for Jimi Hendrix, at less than 200 pages, it’s a quick and easy read. I am not just saying that because I’m sponsored by Amazon. Seriously, you should check it out.  JQ PS: I’ve said for years that Lemmy’s autobiography “White Line Fever” is the best rock book ever written. For a guy whose career stretches back to being a roadie for Jimi Hendrix, at less than 200 pages, it’s a quick and easy read. I am not just saying that because I’m sponsored by Amazon. Seriously, you should check it out.

My Interview From the Morning Radio Show Tour

I thought this was cool, so I posted it. I found a Soundcloud of my radio interview on 1051 The Blaze.

Originally posted here:
http://www.1051theblaze.com/2015/11/23/jason-quinlan-outed-charlie-sheen-for-being-hiv/

There were a bunch of other radio interviews but I don't know if there are more audio archives.

This is the Facebook reaction from when I spilled the beans about Charlie Sheen having HIV on the Heidi and Frank Show. It is kind of funny to read now.

We talk to Jason Quinlan, formerly in the porn industry, about how he knew Charlie Sheen had the HIV virus for the last 4 years. Here's his blog explaining his experience.

Posted by The Heidi and Frank Show on Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Lastly, here is my personal soundcloud with every band I've ever played in, as well as a bunch of home recordings, if you are interested:
https://soundcloud.com/jason-quinlan

I am getting ready to drop another chapter of the book, so stay tuned.

Jason

Charlie Sheen Got My Twitter Account Deleted!!

charlie-sheen-hiv
My personal twitter account got shut down for a “HIPAA Compliance Violation“. I can't prove that it was Charlie Sheen himself or one of his “fixers”, but I can't think of anyone else the suspension could apply to.

I guess he wasn't too happy about some announcements I made about his HIV status. It takes Twitter awhile to follow-up on complaints, so my account didn't get whacked until just last week. Who knows? It could have been the work of Robert Huizenga.

Ironically, Charlie Sheen had already come out on The Today Show and fed the world a mouth full of bullshit-soup. It's kind of a drag, because I had a ton of Twitter followers, especially in the wake of the Charlie Sheen incident.

I know, I promised not to talk about Charlie Sheen anymore, but I really liked my Twitter account, not as much is he likes men, but it was a good way to reach out to people.

Rather than making a big deal about it, I would like to put this up to a vote:

Which one is worse?

View Results

Loading ... Loading ...

You heard it here first: Look for a scathing piece about Charlie in the New York Times! It should come out in the middle of next week.

In summation…

I made a new personal twitter account and if you would like to follow me this is it:
https://twitter.com/JasonQuinlan71

If you are just interested in the blog updates:
https://twitter.com/DTMHTRML

Lastly, you can join my e-mail list and you will get e-mailed when this blog updates. I promise, no spam.

 

Look for a new chapter to be published in the next couple days,
Jason

What Is “Don’t Tell Me How To Ruin My Life?”

charlie-sheen-hiv

Everyone tells me, “Your Charlie Sheen bashing blog is awesome!”

Fact: That was never the intention.

“Don’t Tell Me How To Ruin My Life” is the title of my autobiography. For fear of legal reprisal, “The Charlie Sheen Incident” was (ironically) the chapter I intended to omit!

You might be aware; I broke the “Charlie Sheen has HIV story” four days preceding Sheen’s announcement and mainstream media coverage. Some credit me with “forcing his hand”.

I’m not sure that is true, but clearly someone was listening.

Here is the Google Analytics to prove it:

A picture of Google analytics for this blog and traffic
In its wake, I've been the subject of tabloid stories, Fox news interviews and national radio tours.

Oddly enough, two weeks ago, this domain didn't exist….

Registration info don't tell me how to run my life

I hacked together the original post in 3 hours and there is the grammmar mistakes to prove it.

Why?

I felt, the attacks in France (rightfully) took the spotlight from (arguably) the biggest entertainment story this decade.



Four years, I've known of Charlie's shenanigans. I've kept my mouth shut, but not to protect him. I have two friends, now mothers, who rely on Sheen's hush-money to feed their family.

When I published on 11/14/2015, I was immediately inundated with an onslaught of hacking attempts, calls from lawyers, and panic from those on Sheen's payroll to take it down. I never imagined it would get so big. I simply told my story, as legit as possible, so people had NO CHOICE but to believe it.

If they sue me: Then what? Do they want my $600 in the bank or my house in foreclosure?

A man with nothing has nothing to lose.

I was warned: “Charlie has lawyers who can do crazy things I didn't know lawyers could do!” Yeah, like paying blogs $10,000 per post to remove anything with a correlation between “Charlie Sheen” and “HIV”?

Had I known that, I would've published this blog four years ago, wrote one page per week containing the same headline and be a wealthy man now. I know search engines well, yet it was an enigma why my Google Alert for “Charlie Sheen HIV” never popped once in those 48 months.

Hindsight is 20/20.

This is the last I am going to touch on “the C-man”; unless something ultra-scandalous or revolting surfaces.

I'm sure it will.


Let's get back on topic: Who am I and why should you read anything I write?

People always told me I should write a book about my life. While I'm not famous, my life has been a bewildering series of highs-and-lows, bizarre consequences, and nearly unbelievable war stories.

The author don't tell me how to ruin my life Jason Quinlan
My name is Jason Quinlan. I was born to a middle-class family on September 11, 1971, in Norwich, Connecticut. By trade, I am an Internet marketer with a specialty and search engine optimization. During my life I've worn many hats: Punk rock / metal icon, musical prodigy, tuberculosis survivor, lifelong atheist, Atlanta-curmudgeon-turned-Internet-millionaire, guitar shredder, adult affiliate program owner, drug dealer, accidental arsonist, computer geek, pornographer, penniless musician, Hollywood Hills millionaire, writer, whore-monger, world traveler, strip-club connoisseur, social / political commentator, convicted felon, modern-day Julius Caesar and best skim-boarder above the age of 12 in Southern California.

That's just what I can think of off the top my head.

I've been working on this book for a couple years. I found it daunting: Compiling, arranging and editing the words anything digestible. Coupled with the fact, when I had thought I'd composed my last chapter — more fucked up shit would happen! I gave up and decided to release the book one-chapter-at-a-time / in-no-particular-chronological-order on this blog.

The subject of my first official post is, unfortunately, something as relevant today as it was September 11, 2001.

Terrorism.

Stay tuned for the first official chapter.

JQ

Save

Save

Charlie Sheen Sex Tapes EXPOSED!

charlie-sheen

Remember, you heard it here first. Not surprisingly the story gets more twisted every day! According to Radar Online: Not only was Charlie paying off ex-lovers, publications , but also paying to conceal a minimum of 5 sex tapes containing  “The C Man” in copulation with women, trannies, and men.

The Los Angeles district Atty. is pursuing charges against Sheen. The prosecutor's office is seeking a victim to confirm they (it) had unprotected sex without being informed his HIV+ status, he faces up-to-8 years in prison per charge! If these counts are run consecutively, rather than concurrently, Charlie could be spending life in the Graybar motel.

I know dozens of Charlie Sheen's sexual partners, but I don't know a single person he's warned in advance.

He is a sociopath to the highest order.

DON'T BE A SHITHEAD – KNOW YOUR STATUS!

HIV Test at PersonaLabs

Lay down with dogs, wake up with fleas.

Speaking of fleas…

It is still a mystery how Dr. Robert Huizenga is not catching any heat in this debacle. Some of you might remember him as being a witness for the defense on the dream team in 1995 defending O.J. Simpson.

Here is the story, fresh off the press…

Need Cash For The Holidays? – Get it here, without getting burned!!

Find Out The Criminal Background Of ANYONE – find out dirt on people you can't even find in Google! Used by private investigators!!

StartMyQuote – Auto Insurance – Ditch Progressive and save a boatload on car insurance!!

HIV+ Sheen paid millions to hide XXX videos with men, movie stars, and more!

HIV+ Sheen paid millions to hide XXX videos with men, movie stars, and more!


Not only was Charlie Sheen once the highest paid actor on television — he was also the best paying casting agent in the sex tape business!

The former Two and a Half Men star was forced to pay out millions of dollars in frantic hush money to ensure at least five home-recorded XXX videos were never made public, RadarOnline.com has exclusively learned.

Find Out The Criminal Background Of ANYONE – find out dirt on people you can't even find in Google! Used by private investigators!!

 Read this story hot off the press: Read more at Radar Online —>>>

It's a sick world we live in these days,
donttellmehowtoruinmylife.com

Dr. Robert Huizenga Just As Guilty As Charlie Sheen In HIV Cover-up

It is amazing nobody is bringing this up: Celebrity doctor Dr. Robert Huizenga is just as responsible for the HIV cover-up as Charlie himself! A Harvard graduate, Mr. Huizenga isn't stupid, but how could he be so cavalier? He implicated himself as an enabler in Charlie's web of deception in The Today Show interview.

See video…


This applies to reporting all new cases of HIV infection, it doesn't matter if a physician diagnosis it or prescribes medication: It is a requirement you report your HIV+ patient by name to the health department.

Here is the California law…

H&S Code Section 121022(a) requires health care providers and clinical laboratories to report HIV infection by patient name to the local health officer, and mandates local health officers to report unduplicated HIV cases by patient name to CDPH. CCR, Title 17, Sections 2641.5-2643.20 provide specificity for reporting cases of HIV – https://www.cdph.ca.gov/programs/aids/Documents/RPT2010_01HIVAIDSLaws2009.pdf

I know from first-hand experience.


HIV Test at PersonaLabs

In my first post, Charlie Sheen told Girl #1, “Don't worry, I will make an appointment with my doctor” when she was understandably distressed by posthumously discovering his HIV+ condition. Guess who Sheen's the doctor was?

Dr. Robert Huizenga.

Why did Sheen insist she go his personal doctor; rather than a random clinic? If tested positive, she wouldn't be reported to the Health Department and throw a monkey wrench in Sheen's playboy lifestyle!

That is how much of a sociopath Charlie is!

A celebrity doctor isn't nearly as interesting to the tabloid media an “A-list actor”, but you cannot ignore the fact this man broke his Hippocratic Oath by failing to report a life threatening infection.

In closing, here is another interesting fact about Dr. Robert Huizenga. He was called as a witness for the defense in the OJ Trials in 1995.


More proof, if you lay down with dogs, you wake up with fleas.

It's been one hell of a week,
http://donttellmehowtoruinmylife.com

DON'T BE A 2 PUMP CHUMP!
Personalabs 5% off with coupon code HEALTHY

Friday 11/20 “Don’t Tell Me How To Ruin My Life” 6 City Morning Radio Show Tour

jason-quinlan
I (Jason Quinlan /
the author of “Don't Tell Me How To Ruin My Life”) /  the first guy to break in the Charlie Sheen HIV story two days ahead of mainstream media and Charlie's lie fueled appearance on The Today Show will be doing a six-city morning radio tour on the following stations.

All times in Eastern Standard…

9:00 Panama City, FL
WYYX – Stroke Mastro

9:10 Tucson, AZ
KLPX – Frank and Sherm

9:20 OPEN/BREAK

9:30 Albany, NY
Albany, NY WPYX
Quinn & Cantara

9:40 Fresno, CA
Fresno, CA KKBZ
Gus and Izzy

9:50 Yakma, WA
Yakima, WA KMGW
Baby Joel in the Morning

I will be dishing additional dirt on the developments this week as well, as hinting about the girl who is about to come that will ruin his life even more than it already is.

Tune in if you can.

5% Off on STD Tests by Personalabs with Code: PLB5

http://donttellmehowtoruinmylife.com