Life Experiences

What’s It Like To Date A Model

December 19, 2017 | 4 Comments » | Topics: Life Experiences |

What Is It Like to Date Model?

I dated a model during what you might call her “declining” years. I put that in quotes because to a normal person the idea is absurd. Models have a shelf-life of maybe 10 years, 15 if they are lucky. Once a model hits 30, the modeling industry considers her old and used up, and there is no shortage of eager 15- and 26-year-olds from Eastern Europe who are willing to work longer hours, fly more places, and get paid far less. Almost every model in her late 20s (including the woman I dated) begins to worry incessantly (when she isn’t worrying about nonexistent eye wrinkles) about how to make herself into a “brand” and transition into being a supermodel, which is pretty much the only post modeling career available to you in this line of work.

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Confessions Of A Cartel Hitman

December 5, 2017 | 2 Comments » | Topics: Hall Of Fame, Life Experiences, TRUTH |

confessions of a cartel hitman

To us, it was just “The Office.” But it was a mansion with a huge atrium, a pool, a waterfall, a koi pond, and a staff. We had women who cleaned, cooked, and did our laundry, and old men who maintained the grounds.

The Office was in one of  Tijuana’s best neighborhoods, the equivalent of  Beverly Hills, or Sutton Place in New York. Our neighbors were judges, politicians, businessmen, and old-money families that made their fortunes a hundred years ago in gold, oil, cattle, and crops.

Of course, everyone in the neighborhood knew exactly what was going on behind the walls of the Office. They couldn’t help but see the heavily armed 24-hour security force that patrolled the grounds or the caravans of  SUVs, packed with armed men, coming and going in broad daylight. But the neighbors kept their mouths shut because we didn’t have any dealings with them. Our business was dope and murder, and our enemies were people whose business was dope and murder.

Occasionally the two worlds did collide, and we had to handle these “legitimate” people who decided to play with fire. Some of the kids in these wealthy families were fascinated by the life of a narco-terrorist and did business with us. Some did well. Others ended up melting in a barrel of acid.

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What’s It Like To Witness An Execution?

November 27, 2017 | 2 Comments » | Topics: Life Experiences |

I wrote the following description of having just witnessed an execution while in the passenger seat of a car driving away from the prison. I wanted it to be as accurate and detailed as possible…

I came to Oklahoma to witness a killing, a homicide in fact.

At a microphone Debbie Huggins fights tears and with a strong southern drawl says slowly, emphatically: “What we did to him today was much kinder than what he did to my dad.”

“Him” refers to Michael Selsor and “what” to the murder of Clayton Chandler, a clerk shot six times during a gas station robbery in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Selsor pulled the trigger even after Chandler had complied and volunteered the loot.

“In 1975 I never would have thought that it would take 37 years for justice,” Huggins says.

Today’s justice was delivered about half an hour before Huggins approached the microphone; it is why I am here.

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What’s It Like To Be Lured Into A Cult

November 14, 2017 | No Comments » | Topics: Life Experiences |

How long were you a cult member, and what was the organization like?

I was brainwashed for a little under a decade. It was a small but fervent, insular organization led by a very charismatic, psychologically imbalanced “prophet.” His message was simple, but convincing: That our only responsibility was to love each other and the rest would fall into place. Not a difficult mantra to embrace! Contact with the outside world was prohibited, but once I was fully indoctrinated I wasn’t even interested in the outside world. I wanted to stay pure and radiate love like my brothers and sisters.

At what point in life were you introduced to the cult?

I met the cult recruiter at 16, shortly after running away from home—from the Midwestern town where I’d grown up all the way to San Francisco. Looking back, I see that I was in a vulnerable, transitional state. I know now that that’s what cult recruiters look for—they prey on people who’re displaced, or seeking answers in life. At the time, though, I was an over-confident teen who thought she could take on the world all by herself. I thought I knew exactly what I was doing, but really I was lost as hell.

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Confessions Of An Adult Baby

November 8, 2017 | 2 Comments » | Topics: Life Experiences |

Can you explain a bit more about what an “Adult Baby” is?

This is a complicated question which means a lot of different thing to different people. The basic definition is an adult who enjoys infantile things. I myself love to get in my sleeper or onesie and let my mind just flow away. It’s super relaxing to do.

So do you poop in a diaper? Who cleans up the mess? Is it a sexual thing?

I do not, because I do not like the smell or the cleanup afterward. It is not sexual. I do not get aroused by the idea or the trappings. In fact, it has the opposite effect. When I’m in that mind frame, sex is far from my mind. I really just want to be held or hug a plushie and have someone tell me they love me. It’s a comfort and protection thing.

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What It’s Like to Almost Get Executed

November 8, 2017 | No Comments » | Topics: Life Experiences |

I was supposed to be executed one minute after midnight on February 10, 2004.

In the lead up to that day, I was moved to a new cell where prison guards could check in on me every hour to “make sure I was all right.” The prison also started sending a psychiatrist — it was clear that they wanted to make sure I was not going to commit suicide.

This went on for a few days, and then things slowly started to get more intense. I was awakened in the middle of the night, handcuffed, taken out of the cell, and placed against a wall. One of the guards started taking photos of me and said that these were the last images the world would see of me.

One day I was taken to the Lieutenant’s office, where she and a prison doctor were waiting. The Lieutenant told me to pull the sleeve of one of my arms up so that they could see my veins. I initially resisted, so the Lieutenant left and returned with a tourniquet in her hand. She tied it around my arm, and all my veins came to the surface. Then she and the doctor went about their task of documenting the good veins in my right arm. She did the same to my left.

About a week after that, I was taken to see another doctor for a check-up. The doctor took my blood pressure.

It was high.

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What’s It Like To Have ADHD As An Adult

November 2, 2017 | No Comments » | Topics: Life Experiences |

I’ve spent my whole life wondering why I procrastinate on things I enjoy doing. I think I’ve figured it out, and it’s really fucking stupid.

Intellectually, I know that the future is a real thing. There is, in fact, a time other than now. I know that. But I don’t believe it.

My brain thinks time is a myth and there’s no such thing as tomorrow. No matter how many times tomorrow comes, it refuses to believe that it will happen again. It’s like I think the world is going to end in 15 minutes.

And if the future doesn’t exist, future happiness can’t exist either. I should be writing right now. I enjoy writing. But I’m not currently writing, so the happiness I would derive from writing is obviously fake. ~Obviously~.

I do this shit with everything. Writing, reading, talking to friends, going to the gym, throwing the ball for my dog, even playing a fucking video game. I like all those things, but at this precise moment I’m not experiencing pleasure derived from them, so it clearly can’t be real.

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Confessions Of A Dude Who Spent 11 Years In Prison

October 19, 2017 | 3 Comments » | Topics: Life Experiences |

What happened?

Basically I was obsessed with a girl from school. Like psycho obsessed, and when I finally developed the courage to ask her out, she said no. I fucking snapped and went to her house in a kinda hostage situation and stabbed her. Horrible shit man. I have horrible remorse for it. She is “ok” in that she is alive and well, but what I did to her will last forever

What’s your background story? Drugs, broken home, mental disorders? What made you become that kid that would shoot up your school if given the chance? Were you the weird kid or was this kinda out of no where type of shocking news to everyone around you type of thing?

To be kinda quick about it, my dad was very abusive. He would beat the fuck out of my mother and us. I was severely overweight my entire life, had no friends at all. I stayed in my room and played video games nearly every day. Therapy wasn’t an option, because men don’t go to therapy. I had this intense rage built up for so long that it kinda exploded. Btw, I’m not blaming them, because plenty of people have grown up with those same problems. I made a choice and I had to own that

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