Where Is Donny Long? (Donald Carlos Seoane) – PornWikiLeaks

Donald Carlos Seoane Your Negative SEO Really Sucks

I've got to hand it to you Donny (Donald Carlos Seoane), your negative SEO attack had more effect than I thought. I had to spend a lot of time today getting it sorted.

Now I have control over 40% of the front page of Google for your real name, and 50% if you count google images. If you think I am not going to have some fun Photoshopping pictures of you leading the gay pride parade or making out with Freddie Mercury : “Denial” is not just a river in Egypt, my friend.

donny long on google


If anyone wants to add thier throughts to the Twitter moment…


Rweet and share the love.

Have fun with it!

Donald Carlos Seoane aka Donny Long of PornWikiLeals – Message For You!

Message For You! – Donald Carlos Seoane aka Donny Long you okay of PornWikiLeals

It looks like Donny Long (aka Mr. PornWikiLeaks) doesn't like having his information on the Internet? I've been spending a shit load of time unfucking this hacking that you are likely responsible.

As I was going through my search console, I saw you reported this page because it contains personal information.

Here is that video you tried to delete. I have plenty more copies.

VVV                                                                                                            VVV

I wouldn't even waste time taking it down; it will go right back up.

Snitch, ass bitch.

Being put on blast on the Internet isn't fun, is it?

The only way you'll stay in America's in a coffin.

<end rant>




Donald Carlos Seoane aka “Donny Long’s” Hacking and Negative SEO Sucks!

Notorious recist and internet terrorist Donald Carlos Seoane aka Donny Long Porn Wikileaks and AdultFYI.com

Hey Donny Long: Trying To Hack / Negative SEO Me? Don't Worry Bro, I've Got This!

I'll have this fixed right up. Your attack isn't my first rodeo. A valiant attempt that might have worked 4 years ago. Who knows, you might have even given me a boost. I don't need to build links, people just share.

Let me remind you, what you are doing is illegal. The hacking is, anyway. The negative SEO, I know how to handle without even having to disavow. Google knows I didn't ask for or want your spam.

A feeble attempt, actually, most irritating.

You Almost Got Away With It?


ocm negative SEO


It's a good thing because you almost got away with it. I am kind of like the Edward Snowden of the porn industry.

I know who is responsible for the ongoing attacks on my servers and hacking into my bank accounts.


Here Come More Truth Soup!


Let me see if I can map this out?


Donald Carlos Seoane: 5000 of the Worst Links on Earth Can't Hold Me Back



5000 of the most crappy links on the Internet couldn't hold me back. They all came from the same guy: Donald Carlos Seoane, a.k.a. Donny Long who is best known for PornWikiLeaks (a once a conriversial site, but gets about 20 hits a day now).

Hey Donny, if you're going to try to hack someone, you should cover your tracks a little better.

That said, I've got something for your ass.

The best defense is a good offense, right?

So you like terrorizing people on the Internet? Let's get this fucking party started!

The next post will have your name, location, criminal records and photos sent to Interpol.

Let's get this fucking party started! Donald Carlos Seoane: You can't hide in Thailand (or Miami) forever.

Let's bring this shit, Donald Carlos

PS: Hey Donny, if you are reading this (and I know you are) Google your real name!

While Donny is in the us he is claiming to not the owner of PornWikiLeaks, even thought this is not perefct, because people use CloudFlare for privacy (including groups like ISIS) you can see a patten developing.

I bet you had a blast leaking all of those girl's personal info on PornWikiLeaks for so many years.

Now the shoe is on the other foot.

You do dirt, you get dirt.


PS: I find it hilarious how he doesn't want his name on the internet! Lol, talk about hipocacy, I love the 4th grade all caps. It really drives the message home


10/8/2013: Meet The Day That Killed Me

“Suicide is painless, It brings on many changes, I can take or leave it if I please.” – Theme from MASH

10/8/2013: Meet The Day That Killed Me


Continued from Hurricane Bob.


I'm not going to make any friends with this blog post.

Today is July 26th, 2017.

No lie: I'm not doing well.

Truth Is, I've Been Dead 4 Years


The events of 10/8/2013, have left me permanently malformed. I have accepted the fact I cannot control this downward spiral. Before I pull a “Chris Cornell,” I'm taking a parting shot at my enemies.

People reassure me “Karma will catch up” with John JC Baumgartner, Morgan Mcnerny, Sandra McCarthy, Nick Melillo, and I'm adding to the shitlist Doug Vanderpool, ESQ, without whose collusion, wouldn't be so fucked.

Recently, I re-synched my old Instagram. I saw my former business partners (usually blocked) vacationing in Europe, with new houses, and fancy cars. Meanwhile, the guy who got them success is reeling in the dust, broke, cripple, and homeless. I don't give a rat's ass about material shit, but seriously: Fuck karma!

It's imaginary hippie shit.

The worst people rise to the top naturally.

Just look at who is president!

Prelude To Ruin


Back in 2013 one our content partner, TTboy was pissed off because his crappy ghetto porn wasn't selling and we weren't walking in his office with 70K checks.

Times had changed.

By 2013 porn hadn't been selling for a while.

Last year “adult” was a legitimate business 2008, in my opinion. Once air, freedom, AND porn free via Pornhub: Selling smut was like selling fire in hell.

And that was my job.

TT blamed everything on a “racist video” (below) I made 15 months prior mocking the Mr. Marcus syphilis incident, who infected dozens of girls by forging STD tests. I never had a problem with Mr. Marcus. I thought what he did was fucked up: SO DID EVERYBODY!



Throwback Thursday 2008: Why You Shouldn't Turn Down 8 Million Dollars!


In 2008 we turned down an 8 million dollar buyout from DeeCash (yes, you read right) My moronic business partners said, “TTBoy wouldn't be OK with it.” My stance was TT would dump us in a hot second for 8M, but was voted down. I could see the writing on the wall with porn tubes like RedTube gaining momentum. The industry was in for a rough ride.

The whole “Porn Tube phenomenon” came via a very loose interpretation of the DMCA law (the same regulation that governs sites like YouTube and Vimeo). However, the owners of Redtube and Pornhub were paying outsourcers in the Philippines / India to rip and upload stolen DVD content, which hardly fits the spirit of the law!

Fast Forward 2009


In 2009 invited to speak at the AVN’s on content piracy. I estimated, by bandwidth speeds of the day, it would take 14 hours to rip and upload one scene to a tube site. That meant no myspace, email, or file swapping while the upload clogged the user's bandwidth.


Just who were these porn philanthropists?


HMM, I wonder?

All of the tube sites were all owned by the same entity (Mandwin). The same videos would reappear just days after a DMCA complaint USING THE SAME FILENAME on another site in their network?


Still trying to connect the dots?


It wasn't tough to figure out the scheme. None of the Brainiacs in the industry could catch (Mindwin/Brazzers/Mindgeek) in the act.

“Organizing smut peddlers is like herding cats.”- Tony Morgan

Ironically, I had predicted this debacle in the late 1990's in this apocalyptic blog on Consumption Junction:

Today’s subject: FILE SHARING


Lately, there has been a lot in the news about file swappers. 1500 people sharing music fileses have been subpoenaed to appear in Federal Court by the RIAA this week.

There is a lot more than just MP3s shared online.


Yes, there’s a lot of software traded on file sharing networks. Did you know that Adobe Photoshop is $999? It seems every computer has Photoshop. Either somebody's been stealing, or my friends are richer than I thought.


Do you want to watch a wobbly bootleg theater copy of “Pirates of the Caribbean” with crappy sound? Jump over to Kazaa.


Every time there is an advancement in technology; the recording industry wants to crush it. During the 70’s the RIAA tried to sue the manufacturers of tape decks. More recently, there was similar outrage expressed over CD burners. Keep forking up $18 for crappy CDs with two good songs on it! Fuck progress. For decades the music business has been raping its customers. Now, the fat cats in the music biz can see the end of the gravy train, and they are starting to panic!


You should, under no circumstances – EVER, EVER share porn files! Our beloved American institution is in enough trouble. The attractive females of porn don't get paid enough to demean themselves. There’s barely incentive for a maladjusted teen with low self-esteem to start degrading herself on camera, let alone some LOWLIFE PORN THIEF stealing!

As the porn industry’s main revenue streams dry up, they will run out of lawyer money. With no more funds for lawyers, the folks that run the jizz biz will succumb to the Bush/Ashcroft’s Witch-hunt and get sent to prison. With businesses folding, it will displace millions of Americans, quietly leading decent lives marketing porn. These people, unable to find work elsewhere because of their past involvement in smut, will turn to violent crime and overload the courts and correction systems.

The porn industry will become a distant memory of the past, only living as a fading memory on file swapping networks!

With the porn industry out of the way, it leaves only one person for of the Republican goon-squad to come after:



The already saturated prison system will bog down further. The number of Americans incarcerated will outnumber those on the street.

With a giant multi-billion dollar sized hole left in the economy, the country will fall into disarray. There will be Merciless budget cuts. Healthcare will go first. New strains of disease will form and become pandemics.

With no more porn, billions of people will become bored and shut off their computers, causing a surge on the energy grid; leaving entire continents powerless. The only modern convince left will be automobiles. Survivors turn to them for heat, shelter, power and pray for death.

The hydrocarbons will strip the plant life, oxygen levels plummet, and thick pollution will block the sun.

With Gravity disrupted; the Moon will be knocked off kilter, and collide with the half-dead Earth; sending it hurtling into deep space.

Eventually, the particles of dust from the once mighty Terra Firma will appear again on a distant planet as shooting stars to a more advanced culture. These exceptional beings still exist because they were smart enough…





Dramatic pause.






Wait for it.





Keep waiting.






Now Back To Our Story…


As bad as the description of this Apocolypse sounds, it wasn't shit compared to October 8, 2013.

Originally, I was excited about that day because I had my first show with a new band (which was a big deal to me). A few weeks prior, I started getting calls from my parasitic business partners insisting we'd meet at OUR attorney's office (Doug Vanderpool) on Oct 8th.

Now, keep the “OUR lawyer” part in mind as (if) you keep reading,


Was I Was About To Become The First Person Banned From Porn For Being Too Big Of A Scumbag? (LOL)


My senses told me something was wrong, but also before October 8, 2013, Google had just rolled out its latest update (Penguin 2.1 (#5) on October 4, 2013). By predicting it, we'd blown over our high sales mark in several years. I worked every day, including weekends. Anytime my shit-head business partners wanted to reach me; they knew not to call my cell phone; call my office phone because all I did was work!

When tasked with a project, I always completed it on time and to specifications. I can't say the same for them. “My abilities” made the de facto “auditor” to look over new sites for mistakes because of my “eye for detail”. Was it my “eye for detail” or their will to be half-assed?

Some of both I imagine.

My partners were pissed because of TTBoy, but the ironic part was just months before, JC and Morgan wanted to drop TTBoy and replace his content with “some other n#gg&r porn” (their words not mine). I was the sole dissenter. I said we should keep TT, because we should have dumped him when 8 million was on the table, not now.

Killing The Goose That Laid The Golden Egg


Sensing an ambush, I printed out statistics and log of everything I’d been contributing. Surely they weren't stupid enough to kill the goose that laid the golden egg? I wrote the companies “creative accounting practices,” along with bank reports proving if I didn't continually monitor my account, I just wasn't paid. I guess they hoped I wouldn't notice, and several times I didn't. I was wise to the tactic because I'd caught JC red-handed jacking our affiliates, something I insisted must stop.

So on October 8, we had to have this meeting in Seal Beach. I politely asked if we could move this date. I would have to drive to from LA to seal Beach, then to North Hollywood to get my equipment and then Pasadena to play and finally back home; which is tantamount to a sentence of being trapped all day in LA traffic.

No, it had to be Oct 8, and you will see why these ruthless bastards were so inflexible with that date!

You can see the 181 mile treck below:


The Dangerours Meeting


John “JC” Baumgartner, who called the meeting, said not to worry “the meeting won't be a long”. By my calculation, I was responsible for all of the house traffic which was about 85%, especially after the Google update. Our biggest affiliate was bringing in less than 5% of total sales, my other business partners being responsible for 0%.


When I finally got to Doug Vanderpool's Office in Seal Beach. I was the one who found Doug seated with John “JC” Baumgartner, Morgan Mcnerny, Sandra McCarthy, with Nick Melillo absent.

This was going to be an execution.

Doug started the meeting by saying, “Does anyone need anything before we start?”

I made a joke “ shotgun” (to stick in my mouth). Doug left the room for a minute and returned with a large rifle and laid it on the desk.


Ut Tu Brute?


John “JC” Baumgartner


JC is a tough guy who spent a lot more time buying guns, taking steroids and going to MMA classes. JC gets his way through intimidation, so he opened the meeting in one of his trademark steroid rages.

JC, “Well Jay we're not even sure what you do.”

Thinking to to myself, “Pretty much everything.”

While I was working 16 hour days, JC had tried to start:

  • A location business
  • Got a real estate license
  • Tried to start an energy drink
  • Joined a 1% motorcycle gang
  • Disappeared once or twice a week on cocaine binges in Vegas
  • Spent a year trying to buy a strip club
  • Invent a green motorcycle
  • An MMA twitter site
  • That’s just what I can think of; I’m sure there is more


JC proceeded to pull out this chart showing how our sales weren't nearly what they were four years ago.


Well, guess what JC?



The fact that we were still taking DVD content and rebranding it into websites made us a dinosaur. The amazing part was we were the LAST DINOSAUR on earth after the meteorite hit the Yucatan coast. Thanks to my abilities as a marketer and aptitude to pull free traffic from anywhere, I had extended our shelf life WAY past its expiration date. I suggested many times that we update our business model or get into the mainstream. That would cost money and cut into what JC had been stealing.

There was a brief attempt to pull out all of the spreadsheets of stats I put together the night before. I might as well spent that previous evening taking one massive shit because I was never even given a chance to present them.


Sandra McCarthy


Next came Sandra McCarthy, who I had supported HER AND HER FAMILY for two years while waiting for OC Modeling to become profitable. Now that she had a lucrative escort empire running in Chatsworth, she arbitrarily decided she didn't want to pay me back. Little did I know I had been heading up a RICO sized prostitution empire with my property as a bond, and not reaping the proceeds.



All of a sudden, she magically has 39k in cash, which was the cost of my buyout from OCModeling that was written somewhere deep in the annals of the contracts that I should have read better her lawyer, I mean my attorney….I mean, their lawyer wrote.


Vanderpool Law: Now Accepting Payment In Cash, Checks and Prostitutes!


Doug had always worked for us “gratis” because Sandra would send hookers over as payment for legal services. She used him frequently to squash disputes with other pimps, models and file phony restraining orders.

Maybe now you are starting to see my confusion, conundrum, and conflict of interest.


A picture of Morgan Mcnerney Morgan Mcnerney Newport Beach-pornographer-chronic-Weed-and-pill-addict


Morgan McNerney pulled out a huge stack of papers with stuff scanned from my FaceBook page. He accused me of being a drug addict. Ironically, Morgan just got out of rehab last year. You shouldn't throw stones when you live in a glass house. He admitted that fact to me while asking that I remove Morgan McNerney Newport Beach Tranny King post.

As they started to produce each page and say how “Ï made the company look bad.”Which to me seemed rather ridiculous, considering WE ARE IN THE FUCKING PORN BUSINESS.

Among the items they said made them look bad was some statements made affirming my atheism, the infamous Mr. Markus song, stuff from my band, the fact I'd contracted tuberculosis and was jumped by some steroid asshole were also problems for the “company image” for some reason

My response:


“Who was I 15 years ago, before YOUR decision to get involved with me?

They didn't say anything.

So, I reminded them, “The same guy you see right now, if anything, I've mellowed out. Now that money is tighter, me being me is a problem?”

Doug asked if they all could step outside.


[Insert Canned Speech]


He Said, “Guys have been in this chair many times. Take them up on their buyout, or they will just force you out.”

It's not the best idea to take advice from a lawyer who arranged a meeting with your business partners and compensated for legal services in hookers.

I know that now anyway.

I liked Doug, I thought he was my friend, but the situation had become too convoluted. I should have gotten a real lawyer, fought and not taken their paltry 100K.

Doug handed me that dumb stack of papers, you said “go outside and shake their hands,” but I refused. As I left, those bastards were in his office busily shutting down anything I had tied to the company.

By the time I was back in LA, my credit card, bank, and phone cut off as I ran out of gas not far from my house. There was still had a show to play that night, which I managed to pull off, despite the mental trauma.


So Now What?



It's been a stuggle been trying to get back on my feet since, but between identity theft, bogus restraining orders, lawsuits, evictions, and not being able to play guitar anymore; it just isn't happening.

I'm not living anymore.

I'm just existing.


Karma and Sobriety Are Dumb


The sad thing, the last four years of my life have been my most sober.

Guess what?

Life was immeasurably better when “I was fucked up all the time.”

In summation, Sobriety is a concept, just like karma. Being sober (ish) has done nothing for me mentally, spiritually, health, relationship or money-wise.

Remaining are 150 pages of “the DTMHTRML good times” on my hard drive, but I can't get in the headspace to publish it. Life has changed so much; I don't feel like I was ever that person.

All of my “friends” have disappeared.

That's okay.

I wouldn't want to hang out with me either.

There isn’t a day I don’t think about suicide.


That said, this will be the final blog.

One reason for not drinking is I know my subconscious mind has the courage to do what my conscious mind doesn't.

It's time to get a bottle of Jäger, check out of this miserable world.

Every day above ground isn't a good one.

It's time to change that.


On Reddit WTF:

10/8/2013: Meet The Day That Killed Me from WTF






Cassidy Vivid Girl – Hurricane Bob (Prelude To Ruin)

Cassidy Vivid Girl – Hurricane Bob (Prelude To Ruin)

All women are born evil. Some…All women are born evil. Some just realize their potential later in life than others. – Jean Giraudoux

Why Nothing Good Starts In A K-Hole


Ketamine, I snorted it before. I thought I been to the infamous “K-hole”. After I had mainlined, I realized I hadn't come close. This porn chick gave me a “skin pop,” I walked two steps and then slumped next to my refrigerator and went into another dimension for 45 minutes.

One night, the girl came with a friend. We're supposed a threesome but just wound up banging K. My porn star buddy was a Samaritan and told girl #2, “If she ever needed some dick, I would be a good unattached guy.” A few quickies and months afterward, girl #2 rings me about dusk, and she says she wants me to meet her friend Bob. I thought, “Why are you bringing over a guy?” Then she texted me a picture of “Bob” – a stunning Latina with piercing green eyes.

hurricaine bob

As with most girls that would eventually make my life a living hell, I was smitten with her. I scrounged my house for drugs; we could find ecstasy, mushrooms, cocaine, and lots of alcohol. Bob and I took the mushrooms, while Girl #2 had a party of 1 with the blow. In few minutes, Bob was naked. I joked I could “eat pussy like a lesbian” and she asked me to prove it.

We will leave it at that.

10 minutes later, Bob and I were in our bedroom. The sexual chemistry was ten right off the rip. The other girl sat in the kitchen interested in little else but the bugger sugar. While Bob squirted, 300 orgasms, soaked my entire bed, and we had to go to the other bedroom to continue coitus.


porn fan guys


The Strange Thing About Porn Fans


Back in those days, I was banging 2-3 porn stars a day. I never thought about it. My “civilian friends” knew their names better than I did. They would always ask, “Have you ever banged [insert their favorite pornstar] and I would draw a blank because I always knew them by their first name. Then they would pull up a picture on their phone, and I would be, “Oh, Lisa, yeah I know her.” I always got along well with the girls because I was “in the industry,” but wasn't talent, so I was never looked on as “work”.

Bob was relatively a well-known Vivid Girl named Cassidy but I never heard of her. She'd flown in from Texas to do a few scenes and was supposed fly to her boyfriend (who somehow “didn't know” she did hardcore porn). I had fucked many porn chicks, have the multiple trips to see Dr. Rigg to prove it, but never tried to “date one”. Bob, and I had an attraction.


The Wager


She was supposed to be going home on Wednesday. I told her about my 4/20 party on Saturday. I joked she would be in California for that party.

She was.

One day became to the next. One week led to the next, and I realized Bob had blown off her boyfriend. She never called him and was living with me my proxy. I didn't have a problem with it because we were having a real time luring girls(sometimes from Ralph's parking lot) to join in our sexual shenanigans.

Call me a traditionalist, but I can’t take a porn star seriously. I just can't deal with knowing that some dude who probably has a dick bigger than mine (a tough feat) inside your girlfriend. I'll give Bob credit where credit is due, as soon as we hooked up she called her agent, Derek who runs escort agency The Luxury Companion with Dwight Cunningham and stopped doing boy-girl scenes. That costs her a lot of money, I'm sure.

Don't forget My first course on Udemy:
Only $10best video marketig course utill the 21st then up to $200

Bob and I got into doing GHB. I had pretty good experience with the G sex party rules: Not to drink much etc. Don't don't and missed booze. We would make videos of each other and other girls, G-passed out videotape it (sometimes it was me); it was some sick twisted shit. They always woke up and it was back to good fun. One weekend by the end of doing GHB for two days Bob insisted that we find another girl. Threesome etiquette dictates guys should never choose the girl. Bob asked, “I must know some bitches,” so I just started looking through my cell phone to find girls. We looked through my Facebook, and she said, “Oh, she's cute. “I joked, as a bonus, we would be able to get free drinks later.”



So summer came around, and Bob was still living with me, we never discussed it, it just happened. One day in the middle of the week, I was sleeping. Bob usually got up early to start drinking. She woke and said that I ought to look at my phone. My friend, Jeff Hanneman had passed just a few hours before from liver failure. I had seen Jeff only a few weeks before, and he seemed fine. He was the same Jeff I always knew guzzling Heineken and cracking jokes; I couldn't believe that he died. BTW: Jeff wasn't killed by a spider, it was (more on this later). I drank cried and played Slayer for the next two days.

I also had another problem; there was this girl I had had sex with around nine months prior that was claiming there was a good chance I might be baby’s daddy. The night I had sex her last, she was going to leave for rehab the next day and unbeknownst, she was living with her boyfriend who was in the house at the time.

Like Phil Lynett, I put my trousers on and got the fuck out.

I didn't hear until her child was born and there was a lot of back and forth as to who the dat could be. When she started getting a hold of me, it was the day after Jeff's death, and she also knew that I was friends with Jeff Hanneman because she was with me the night in the hot tub (hint, hint).

She kept telling me I have something that will cheer you up. I tried explaining I'm going through some heavy shit right now can we just hold off on this? She announced, Friday, and she says she’s coming over with the baby. I was like no, “there is a porn shoot shooting” at my house. She said well our son doesn't have problem porn. An underage person on set, while they're shooting porn, are all going to jail.

This is only a half truth; we were taking some stills for a model for OC modeling. There was no actual sex going on I was just trying to keep her at bay. So after the shoot, Bob and I tried to seduce the model, like we usually do. I go to the bathroom to take a piss, and I can hear the sound of my front door, I look, and there is baby's mama holding the kid standing in the middle of my living room. She said “Jason meet Owen,” “Owen meet Jason”. I looked into the child's eyes, and he looked at me with the same brown eyes and pointed his finger as if he knew me. It was surreal. So, Cassidy, was an excellent host playing with the kid, and babies mama is trying to make small talk, and we are just all hanging out.

The group consensus: It was mine.

We had a big bottle of Jager sitting on the table. Babies mama proceeds to pick it up and take to the massive swing out of it. We were all like “Hey, aren't you driving? That ain't cool.” So then she copped an attitude and asked me to have a word outside.

She says you know how I know this baby's yours and proceeds to pull out the kid's wiener in the cul-de-sac. I guess it was a big winner. I don't look at children winners. Then she proceeds to ask me if I can get some Xanax for her and then our drummer Freddy drives up a.k.a. (The Mexican Tom Linkous) dives in out and plays Capt. save-a-ho and said I had to be at being at band practice and the girl finally wound up leaving.


chris hayes


A friend of Bob invited us to a friend of mine Chris Hayes had a party way up in Canyon Country. Chris was the “husband” of porn star Allie Haze of whom had previously been without OC modeling but left so her suitcase primo man. Despite our business differences I had always gotten along with him.


Why I Will Never Speak The Same The Rest Of My Life


So the next day goes to the party, it was like a 30 or 40 miles drive out to Canyon Country where. When I got to the party, I said hi to Chris, and seemed glad to see me. I introduced them to Bob, and everything appeared to be well and fine. The party was okay, but it was just one those typical porn parties, there was always some bad vibe. So it starts to get darker, the alcohol runs out at the party, there is a guy there selling Molly. I was starting to sober up from the lack of alcohol in getting bored. I asked my buddy if we could leave, but there was some chick or something he was trying to bang, so we were kind of stuck.


just minutes before my stroke


We scrounged the basement fridge for beer, to no avail. Now what happened after that I only remember in vignettes of pieces and from what others have told me. Apparently only a few minutes after Bob and locked the door Chris came knocking on it, Bob got off my lap and went to open the door, but before she could even open it, he busted the door down. Chris is a big felon steroid-laden-fuck-with-a-2-inch-penis trained in martial arts. I don't remember because concussion, but I hadn't even gotten up off the couch and he just cold-cocked me to the jaw, the bunch wasn't so bad, it was my head smashing the concrete that was the brain leakage. Bob was freaking out, I was unconscious, there was blood everywhere, and the other people at the party started to file in the room.

I woke up about 10 minutes later, still not sure of what was going on. I charged Chris there was another skirmish, but then somebody opened the garage door, and I walked outside, and my friend gave me a ride back. When I got to my home, Bob said I was confused, walking into walls and didn't even know what happened. Freaked out when I looked at my face in the mirror and saw how fucked up I was. Ike came over and said that I at least probably had a broken jaw, so they took me to St. Joseph's Memorial Hospital. The same place where I had been treated for tuberculosis and Ike was brought in for a drug overdose the just week before. I initially didn't think it was that bad. They took me to get a CATscan; the doc came back, I will never forget these words “Son your brain is hemorrhaging, you had the worst type of stroke you could have. If the hemorrhaging hasn't stopped in the next few hours, we are going to have to get you into brain surgery. I couldn't believe it, so I called my mother it was Mother's Day about 3 a.m. EST and left the news on their answering machine. Bob held my phone in case they called back. Meanwhile not being in the best state of decision-making I left a post on Chris's Facebook page saying something to the effect of a “mother fucker, I'm in the hospital I just out of bucking stroke,” and I'm going to get back. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do.


jason quinlan - chris hayes

The best offense, being a good defense, Chris ran around the house punching windows and called the police and said I had attacked him with a knife.

The only permanent loss I speak with the speech impediment.

In the meantime, Bob would wake up every morning with a big glass of grapefruit juice and block a and would proceed to get drunk throughout the day. Which I don't mind, but when you're trying to be sober, it's annoying to have drunk people around you. I even tried to drop her hint like “Hey Bob do you know how when you go to bars, and you are sober, and there are a bunch of drunk people aren't they annoying?” I guess she didn't get to hint.

A few weeks later Bob was supposed to leave on a trip to visit some friends in Tennessee. The day before we decided to do G and have our girl from the over again, it was a great 24-hour sex-a-thon, and by the end of it, I was way too wasted to take Bob to the airport, so she had made some arrangements with their friends to meet up nearby. I passed out for a little bit, and when I woke up next to me I noticed Bob was out cold, I tried to wake her up, but she was G doubt. Eventually, our friend back came over. We both sat there and tried to wake her up for a while; then her friends started calling her cell phone and leaving text messages leg “Hey, you dumb bitch wake up”.

We wound up leaving, and I started getting on the Internet, to look up what the symptoms of the GHB overdose were. My unprofessional guess: III GHB overdose which could be fatal. I knew that I had to get her to the hospital, so I put on some sweatpants on her the floor. We dragged her out to my car; I drove Bob to the (now familiar) St. Joseph's Hospital in Burbank As soon as I got her out of the car I could see that the sweatpants she was wearing were covered with my jizz. I was like there is no way I am bringing some OD’ed bitch into the emergency room with sweatpants covered with jizz. So I drove her back to my house and got her something more decent

When we brought Bob in the hospital there was no waiting in; we were put straight through to the emergency. I could see doctors in the room trying to resuscitate her with the paddles of life. Meanwhile, I could see a large contingency of the Burbank Police Department was now gathering in the lobby. After one swift paddle, Bob woke up and started hitting the doctors, so they knocked her back out with another downer. I could see more cops gathering and starting to point in our direction.

In California, there is a law where they are not allowed to arrest you for bringing someone into a hospital that has overdosed. However, Burbank is its municipality. Almost like in Soperton. So I drove back to my house, scrounged through all of the drawers and try to find all the drugs, and I had been in the woodpile in the hills above my house. Since I'd already parked my Mercedes in the garage, I decided to drive my truck back to the hospital.

Upon arriving, I could already see a ton of the pork already had Girl #3 surrounded and was questioning her. We got our stories straight in case this happened before going. Since she was the at the Rainbow the night before, we were just going to tell her some guy slipped her some G because she was well-known and easily recognized porn star.

Cops surrounded me in the parking mall and said don't you need the warrant to search my house. Or far refuse they would just wait for the next day and get one. I figured I would lower their defenses, the drugs out of plain sight; I said sure to come over and search. They let me drive my truck back to the house, and the two cops went to my room for the little bit and then searched the back of my car and didn't find anything. So I asked them if I could politely go back to the hospital and make sure my girlfriend hasn't died.

When I finally got back to talk to them, they told me that Bob had been so combative that they were going to knock her out and she probably wouldn't be awake again for the next 24 to 48 hours.

When the cop saw me come back in, they took me into a room just opposite rooms drilling with questions. One of the pigs finally came up to me and said our stories weren't matching up. They told me that I answered the door and for the other girl, but he told me she rang the doorbell or some minor detail and that's how they knew we were both lying. I wasn't paying attention focused on was Bob

Bob's little scare the hospital didn't last because soon she was back to waking up at eight in the morning and drinking a grapefruit juice and vodka for breakfast. I was working a lot and wasn't drinking, and I tried to explain to her that you know how you can go to bars when you are sober because drunks are annoying, I was telling her that every day of my life was beginning to feel like that.

One Saturday, my good friend Ahn was having a birthday party/going away party, and I asked Bob to release day and good enough condition so we could go that night. Instead, both of us started drinking around for that afternoon by the pool. I can handle my alcohol fairly well, but by the time it even got time to get dressed to go out Bob was three sheets to the wind. Ahn had arranged to have a whole room rented out at a nice restaurant on Melrose. We got there, and they had champagne and Bob saying “bubbles mean trouble” bubbles mean trouble, we sat down to eat, and Bob was so obnoxious that I said let's just go. We walked out onto Melrose and whoever was driving the next car should be at the Indy Grand Prix because Bob didn't even look as she went across the street and the car that turned to swerve out of just mowing her down.

At this point, I couldn't take anymore, and I just handed Bob 80 bucks, and I said take this Anywhere but my house. I walked through the streets of Hollywood, it was now nearing midnight, and I tried and tried to flag down a cab in vain, so I just Walking and walking until I finally said Fuck it and just walked the rest of the way home myself which was some 8 miles.

When I got back to my house, I could see Bob's high heels in the driveway and then I went inside and didn't see her in my room, but found her passed out in a guest room. I popped a Xanax and decided to call it a night.

While I was sleeping the next morning, Bob kept trying to come in and asked me if I wanted breakfast as if nothing had happened the night before. I just told her to leave me alone because I was sleeping and hours tired because I've walked 8 miles home.

By the time I woke up, it was about noon, and it was time to talk to Bob about the night before. Her friend Kristi was already over, and as soon as I went to speak to her, I could tell she was drunk as hell again. By this time I'd had it, I told Bob to take her she had and got the hell out of here she had made me look like a complete asshole, which is hard to do, and now it wasn't even noon, and she was tossed again, unbelievable. I told her that I had it, and she should take her shit and get the hell out of my house.

That same weekend I, supposed to go with my friend Brent Hinds (Mastodon) deep-sea fishing, but I had plans, so I didn't go. After I got Bob out of the house. I went to meet some friends in Venice Beach and try to chill. I was only down in Venice Beach was when Brent called me up. Apparently, the fishing trip had been a disaster, the broke down off international waters, and now he was stuck at a friends house whose girlfriend was bitching him out for getting home late. I said ran back to my house, not long different friends show up i droves, and it breaks out into one giant spontaneous party. Per the number of people there I could see we had put away A LOT of alcohol. My backyard littered had never been littlered with so many beer cans.

Bob and I broke up after that, but as many breakups go it wasn't a clean split. After the big spontaneous party. There were a few girls over, and I might have banged one of them, and she left some panties and my bathroom. The next Bob wanted to talk to me, but I didn't want to speak to her. She found the panties and erupted to another round of fighting.

Bob and I went our separate ways after that, most of the time. A friend of mine brought overa synched copy of Bob's iPhone who been using to do hooker stuff. I've busted her in every lie and cheated known to man.

Clients, days, everything.

It was brutal.

I heard Bob is married now, with kids these days, in all seriousness, I want her to help herself and straighten her act out.







Report Edward Przydzial aka (Lawson J Denning) To The LAPD If Anything Happens To Me

Hello Jay,

NationalNet has received the following DMCA complaint.  Please remove the offending material ASAP and advise when completed so we can call this resolved.

Abuse Team


———- Forwarded message ———-
From: edwardprzydzial<[email protected]>
Date: Mon, Jun 19, 2017 at 9:38 AM
Subject: Fwd: [WordPress #3268259]: dmca removal notice
To: [email protected], [email protected]

Takedown Notice Pursuant to the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998
To Whom It May Concern,
This is a notice in accordance with the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998 (DMCA) requesting that you immediately cease to provide access to copyrighted material. I wish to report an instance of Copyright Infringement, whereby the infringing material appears on a website for which you are the host.
1.The infringing material, which I contend belongs to me, is the following:
my photos and name-title
2.The original material is located on my website at the following URLs:
3.The infringing material is located at the following URLs:
4.My contact information is:
Name: edward przydzial Mailing address: ecpi box 3919 hollywood, ca. 90078 Telephone number: 323.632.4512 E-mail address: [email protected]
5.I have a good faith belief that the use of the described material in the manner complained of is not authorized by the copyright owner, its agent, or by operation of law.
6.The information in this notice is accurate, and I am either the copyright owner or I am authorized to act on behalf of the copyright owner.
I declare under the perjury laws of the United States of America that this notification is true and correct.
Signed: edward przydzial Date: 2017-06-19
———- Forwarded message ———-
From: Emilia L. – WordPress.com<[email protected]>
Date: Mon, Jun 19, 2017 at 2:54 PM
Subject: [WordPress #3268259]: dmca removal notice
To: [email protected]Hi there,> The infringing material is located at the following URLs:
> //donttellmehowtoruinmylife.com/2017/03/16/edward-przydzial-lawson-j-denning/amp/I'm sorry, but the web site that you have reported is not hosted at WordPress.com. As such, we are unable to provide any direct assistance in this manner.The fact that the site was built using WordPress, or may mention ‘Powered by WordPress' (or something similar) simply means it is using the WordPress.org software, which may be downloaded and installed on any web host. Please refer to http://en.support.wordpress.com/com-vs-org/ for the further differences between WordPress.com and WordPress.org.If you need assistance in determining a web site's host, we recommend reviewing the following articles:http://www.plagiarismtoday.com/stopping-internet-plagiarism/3-finding-the-host/

Thank you for your report, and we're sorry we couldn't help.

Emilia L. | Community Guardian | WordPress.com





Editors note I did use Grammarly to make this more readable. The content is 100% unaltered otherwise.

Try it free, you will wonder how you wrote without it!<br/ >Best Plagiarism Checker & Proofreader


If anything happens to me here is the nearest police station. I am being stalked.

1358 N Wilcox Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90028



If anyone has info on this Edward Przydzial aka (Lawson J Denning) feel free to contact me:



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.


Grammarly Writing Support

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

jason quinlan paypal

The Sebastian Bach Career Ender Video


“Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma chameleon, You come and go, you come and go.” – Boy George

The Sebastian Bach “Career Ender” Sex Tape!

For those who choose to watch this video: Do so at your own discretion! In a unique way, it's equally is haunting as an ISIS execution:

The Sebastian Bach Career Destroyer from Jason Quinlan on Vimeo.

Amended 12/18: it looks like Minnie Gupta filed in DMCA request. That's OK because I was going to take down the video anyways because she explained she had been dealing with harassment from him for the last two years. Honestly, I was going to apologize to her for not getting around to posting it sooner! LOL See: http://forums.metalsludge.tv/forums/viewtopic.php?f=1&t=337966

If you were late to the party, this is what you missed.

The ISIS execution might be going a bit far, but you get my point.

I've had this sitting on my Vimeo account set to private for months. The footage was sent to me by my ex-girlfriend, who went on to date Sebastian Bach a few years after we broke up.

We were friends before we dated for a year and are cool to this day. She's a rad and smart girl, way out of Sebastian's league.

I thought it was an odd combo.

I always sized up Sebastian Bac is being a massive douche bag, but in the few times that I met him, he seemed like he was pretty cool.

After hearing a few horror stories from her, he must've on his best behavior because he knew her ex was present.

Initially, I didn't know why she sent it to me, but then I read he dumped her for some bimbo he just met, married her days later and charged people money to come to his wedding.

Talk about a douche move?

Can't get much douchier!

A friend suggested she was obviously hoping I’d put it on the internet.

Seeing as the whole Charlie Sheen controversy didn't exactly hurt my Alexa and I don't have anything to lose….

I said, “Fuck it” and posted “The Sebastian Bach Career Ender“.

So now I have to ask myself a question?

Am I like Jules from Pulp Fiction, “The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil.” or am I a douchebag blogger taking advantage of a celebrity to get more traffic.

It helps to see people whose life and is more of a mess than mine and to look down on!

jason quinlan hallowen pulp fiction
I know one thing for sure: The world-famous penis chart from Metal Sludge can't be entirely accurate because my dick is way bigger!

Just for fun, we can put this to a vote….

JASON QUINLAN: Douchebag blogger or champion of women's rights?

View Results

Loading ... Loading ...

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

jason quinlan paypal

Don’t Me How to Ruin My Online Privacy!

Do You Think This Video Might Have Landed Me on a Terrorist Watchlist?

Just checking in from another lonely night stranded in the Mexican Ghetto.

Last week somebody stole my mountain bike.

No that isn't a punchline to a joke!

I figured while I had already sunk to this level of depravity, I might as well get myself put on the terrorist watchlist for the second time. Now that I think about it, the first round of security antics would be a great topic for the next chapter.

Meanwhile, or somebody turned me on to the Lightbox Firefox Plugin. It allows you to see every website that is monitoring your activity in real time and it's pretty scary.

Check out the video above, and you will see how many eyeballs I had on me just from surfing Facebook and Google. Then I escalated to 12 minutes of surfing jihadist, FBI, ISIS, and NSA websites and you can see the eyeballs multiply exponentially.

I find it pretty scary in 12 minutes I caught the attention of both the US Government and Radical Islam.

Since we are on the subject, even as broke as I am, there was no way I could pass up this deal. Do you have a private VPN for only $2.45 a month and is a pretty impressive thing.

I don't think they are holding this deal for much longer so get in while you can….

pure vpn ad 2017Peace 2017,







How I Got Into Dealing Drugs

Preamble: Quick note before I get started. Mom, Dad or anyone in my family reading this, please exit the browser now. The events detailed in this post were a long, long time ago. Sandra McCarthy don't get excited and try to drop dime again because I can hardly afford my own drugs these days, much less sell them.

As I had mentioned in my previous post, in moving back and forth across the country, coupled with a computer crash, and nerve damage, I thought I lost the raw 180 pages of “my glory days” from the first draft of the book.

Luckily, I searched my Gmail and found an email I had sent to myself from July of 2016, so I'm fairly sure, I have the whole thing again.

Bad old days, here we come!

Chapter 4: How I Got Into Dealing Drugs

“People don't sell drugs, drugs sell themselves.” – Chris Rock

Like porn, drug dealing was never anything I had considered doing for a living. It found me. Drugs were my chief source of income from the early to late 1990's.

I've always been a stoner. I smoked pot five or six times when I was 13 before I ever got high, but I loved it. When I lived in Connecticut, we'd get our parents to drop us off roller skating; then we would sneak out to the graveyard, smoke joints and play ice hockey. I can remember the first time I felt the effects and have been a committed stoner since.

At 18, one of the things I was looking forward to in Georgia was the vast difference in weed prices. In Connecticut, a quarter was $60 and not high quality. In Atlanta, a quarter of weed was $40 and slightly better.

There was a hitch, every year during the end of summer ATL would “go dry, ” and marijuana would be impossible to find. That July I moved there was the worst drought on record. Finding a nug would be like finding a brick of gold.

It was that bad.

Once I had my truck unpacked, my next order of business was scoring a bag. Crazy Chris called a few of his pot dealers, but everyone was out. That year, I can remember the police erecting billboards on the interstate stating, “you think it's dry this year, wait till next year” with a big marijuana leaf and international no sign.


I was frustrated and sober.


One of the first days in Atlanta, I was going to see where my mailbox was in my apartments, this older black guy in a car drove up and asked me if I was looking for weed. I responded, “Hell, yeah.” I had the cash; he took off his hat with a bunch of 1/8th bags rolled up in it and I bought one. He lived in my same apartment complex, gave me his number and said call him if I need more. I strutted back to my building with my first half-price Georgia dirt-weed. Everyone was dumbfounded “the new guy” could find weed, where the locals had failed.

Within an hour I am back at his apartment scoring a bag for Crazy Chris and then a few hours later, for Chris's friends, who I didn't even know. I started making 3 or 4 runs per day to the dealers' place. For a few days, I got the sacks for people without making a profit other than they'd smoke me out or give me a joint. As the week went on, people kept calling, so I proactively bought an ounce. I figured I could sell three-quarters and get my weed free. After another week I started making a lot of “new friends” because I was the only guy who could score weed. Eventually, knowing that business was incoming. I bought 2 ounces, two became 3, and soon I'd moved up to a “QP” (quarter pound).


Without knowing it, I had become a drug dealer.


I had a few “regular” quote jobs too. I worked at UPS for a while unloading trucks. I also used to work for my friend “Johnny Cold Beer” installing carpet. I will save those debacles for another chapter, as they were adventures in themselves.

Between working, selling drugs, partying and my girlfriend Beverly that had just moved up from Connecticut, I had my hands full. I never went to many classes at school and dropped out in the first quarter. I already knew some pretty advanced music theory just from years of reading guitar magazines, so everything at school was a refresher.


dave from distemper


While I was working at UPS, I met this guy Spencer who had a similar side hustle. He had a better connection than the guy at my apartment building, so together, we graduated from “QPs” to pounds.

Some guys from Kentucky tried to stick us with a few pounds of really moldy dirt weed with maggots and it during the dry spell the second summer. We told them we didn't want this shit, and they could have it back. They refused, Spencer knew one of them had a big grow operation in the back of his house, so one October morning after work, just as it was time for harvest, we went to his greenhouse and chopped down all the flowering weed. We cruised down Peachtree Industrial Highway in rush hour traffic with marijuana plants darting out of every orifice and Spencer's compact car. Keep in mind; this was long before the tolerant medical marijuana years; this was 1991 Georgia: In the eyes of the law, we were carrying a life sentence in Reidsville State Penitentiary.


Not long after I quit UPS.


Besides from working with Johnny a bit from time to time, I never had a “real job” again.

After a while, I lost touch with Spencer and was introduced to “Hippy John.” John was involved at a higher-level than Spencer. He was arranging shipments of hundreds of pounds of weed from Mexico. He became my new connection, and I was his right-hand man. We dominated the ATL spot market by having “mids,” which was HQ weed but not as expensive as hydroponic, and far better than the cheaper Mexican dirt weed. The best thing about “mids” was they had the highest profit margin and demand.

By 1995, Dick Delicious wanted to play a lot more shows out-of-town, so I wanted to solidify my income. I had a truck that I barely drove so I sold it for $3000 and picked up 3 ounces of the blow. I didn't know if I'd have any luck selling it, but within 48 hours the cocaine was gone, and I was re-upping. I don't like cocaine that much, so I made for a good coke dealer.

Say what you want about the morality of dealing drugs, but many people have asked me how I got so “good at business.”


I learned it by selling drugs.


From my stint as a drug dealer, I can do even relatively complex math calculations in my head. For example, if I bought X per ounce of blow then I could Break it up into to X, Y and Z at know what the profits were from each. Selling drugs is a service industry, and a big part of it was just available and in stock.

For a brief time, I tried to sell ecstasy because coke clients often wanted ecstasy as well. What I've noticed is cocaine cancels ecstasy out. You just stopped rolling (that's no fun). I found myself buying a hundred pills and giving 80 of them away to chicks at parties when I was rolling my face-off. I was a shitty ecstasy dealer, so I didn't mess with it long.

The funny thing was for all the drugs I've dealt the only trouble I ever got into was for personal possession. While I was in jail, Hippy John kept supplying my girlfriend with the mids, so I never missed a beat.

When I got out of prison, I briefly considered going straight and getting a real job, but the problem with being a convicted felon on probation is no one wants to hire you. So I jumped back into drugs with both feet, this time with the threat of probation looming over my head.

I went another two years or so slanging hard, during this period that my Internet porn career was starting to take flight. I eventually approached my suppliers and told them that I wanted to get out of the game because I was making more money legally. Because I had always been trustworthy, paid cash, and could move product — they didn't want me to leave. So they made me an offer I couldn't refuse.


No, it wasn't a death threat.


They offered to make my life easier! They set me up, so all I would have to was pick up an enormous amount about once per month. I had three guys, I could trust, so I immediately split it up between them. When 30 days or so would pass I would collect my money, restock, rinse and repeat.

Finally, I decided to move to California. I went to my suppliers and told them I was out of the business and this time I meant it. To placate them I made the introduction to the two guys that I had distributing for me, thereby cutting myself out as the middleman. To this day, they are still in the game, as far as I know.

Now with that out-of-the-way, I had a few more loose ends to tie up. I had this big envelope full of cash in my room. To be honest, I never counted it, but I assumed it contained something like $2000 or $3000. My girlfriend and I had mostly used it as drinking money when we went out to bars. The night before I was counting it and my estimate were way off! There was over $20,000 that envelope. I had heard of the crime of structuring deposits (anything over $10,000 must be reported to the IRS). So we took the money and deposited it $5000 at a time into separate ATMs.


I never got caught.


Ever since then, I've been a buyer, not a retailer.

And that was how I got into dealing drugs.


These blog posts are brought you Ad-free. If you like my writing feel free to donate!

jason quinlan paypal

Join the discussion on Reddit:

How I Got Into Dealing Drugs from Drugs