Camping Trip From Hell

I could take him down.
I could take him down.

Last night I posted about being a rebound girl with Big Liar. I wanted to continue this story and be done with it in two posts, because I have much sexier things to blog about. (I just want to keep you all hanging. 😉 )

Big Liar eventually apologized for hurting me, which was a huge surprise, because he’s not one for admitting wrongdoing. I think he did it for his own selfish reasons, because he needed me to do things for him since no one else was around. Yes, I was a sucker. But at the same time, I needed the work he was providing me, because my regular job hours had been cut so drastically that I was in survival mode. It was either that or have no money for groceries. Shitty choices.

At some point, Big Liar and I went on a completely miserable camping trip. Why I agreed to this, I don’t know. Perhaps because we were on normal speaking terms again, I hadn’t met anyone else at that point, and I hadn’t been camping since college. It sounded like fun – plus, he was supposed to be “experienced” and told me about all of the fun stuff we’d do. (I’ll remind you here that he had no driver’s license, so I had to drive his truck.)

Thankfully, I know enough about surviving in the woods to take necessities that he didn’t – like plenty of water and food and eating utensils and baby wipes and blankets. He had two tents, one of which didn’t stand up, a couple of blowup mattresses that didn’t hold air very well, hunting rifles, a knife, and a dead flashlight.

Big Liar’s idea of camping was making a fire in 85-degree weather and sitting around drinking, beginning at 8 a.m. I told him that’s not camping – that’s what homeless people do. And then I laughed hysterically, because instinctively, by then I knew I was fucked.

Big Liar literally drank all day while I found things to do around the campsite, like cook and clean, take a walk, look at the lake and read a book. I was really bored and disappointed, because I felt like I was by myself. In fact, I thought to myself, I could have had a better time by myself and have been way better prepared had I known this would happen. He was so wasted by dinner he threatened me when I tried to make him stop drinking “my” beer (I had 4 for the entire trip, he had beer, Jack, and Fireball). I was scared for a minute, because it was then that I realized here I was alone with this ass (absolutely no one was left on the camping grounds), he had weapons, he was wasted, and since he’d never shown any signs of violence prior, I’m not exactly sure what he’s capable of… but I knew that I was stronger, have better balance and sober, and if I really had to, I’d kick the shit out of him and throw his ass in the fire. Fifteen seconds after he threatened me he remembered nothing about it. I knew I had to leave, if not for my safety, then for my sanity.

Eventually, he passed out around 7 p.m. and snored like a wild hog. The fire went out, hardly any firewood was left, and the flashlight was dead. I was using my phone’s flashlight to get around. This is when I took this perfect opportunity to look at Big Liar’s phone. I wouldn’t normally have looked at anyone’s phone, but I felt something was up, and he’d already lied to me more than once. Besides, he’d left me by myself with nothing else to do in the dark. What was a girl to do all alone?

Oh. My. God. I was being so played! Big Liar had been sexting several other women, getting blowjobs from his 66-year-old divorce attorney’s secretary (in return for reduced fees!), begging other women for nude photos and trying to take other ones out to dinner (even though he couldn’t drive). I had been the sucker driving his ass all over town to his court appointments and whatever else he needed, cooking for him and whatever else he had me doing to help him out. Then I saw “babysitter porn” (the legal kind, but nevertheless) and I about lost it, because of the age of his kids. It was sickening. My head was spinning and aching.

I was shaking as I was reading through it all… and Big Liar snored loudly throughout the night. I packed my shit, took his keys, and drove away, leaving him there… I got to the gate and it was locked for the night, and I didn’t have the code on the lock to leave. All I wanted to do was go home, but I was stuck. I had to go back, attempted to stay in his truck and charge my phone because I was using it as a flashlight and it had died – and then the fucking truck battery died! I truly felt like I was in my own horror movie. It was pitch black, the fire was mostly out, and I couldn’t even see where to squat to take a piss.

Everything in my life became crystal clear to me at that point. It was like a reawakening, an epiphany… I didn’t sleep the entire night but pretended to, got up shortly after daybreak and said, “Let’s go, I have to go into work today,” and began throwing everything into the bed of the truck. Big Liar refused to pack, refused to leave, had already started drinking at 7 a.m., somehow had jumped the truck battery, and had hidden the truck key. I found an area in the park that had an outlet to charge my phone, called my boss to pick me up, which was embarrassing, but she understood. All I wanted to do was go home.

That evening, Big Liar “yelled” at me by text that I left him there and no one was around to drive him. Boo-hoo! He claimed he had to drive himself back all alone without a license and could have been pulled over. Again, boo-hoo! I’d wished he’d gotten pulled over, because he was drunker than shit driving down a main highway on an already drunken driving suspended license, so he’d have deserved it. I’m just glad he didn’t hurt anyone else. After that, I ignored him.

Two months later, I found out Big Liar been trying to work things out with his ex-wife (by then they were divorced) around the holidays. He came by my house after the holidays to “say hi” one night when he was wasted, and when I asked him about them getting back together he said it wasn’t working out. We’d both been drinking, we made out, because I was just stupid and weak… No sex, because he can’t get it up.

A week later, I got an email from his ex-wife that she wanted to talk, because “we may be dealing with the same habitual liar” and that she had given him the benefit of the doubt and they were trying to work things out. I apologized and told her everything I knew, and Big Liar blamed me for everything, claiming I made up lies about all of the other women (even though I had physical evidence), that somehow I had hacked into his phone and made it look like he sent those messages to other women and that I was obsessed with him. Mmm-kay.

When Big Liar unexpectedly stopped by my house drunk a few weeks ago (while I was broadcasting on MFC no less!), I refused to open the door and immediately told his ex, because she and I still talk. Unfortunately, he still lives down the street… and got his license back the other day. I highly suspect another driving under the influence arrest will happen in the near future.

I want no part of his loser ass whatsoever. The end.

Bawh-ston – Part 4

I wanted to stomp on his face.
I wanted to stomp on his face.

Bawh-ston – Part 1
Bawh-ston – Part 2
Bawh-ston – Part 3

Once I realized I was being played, I was not a happy camper. Bawh-ston was avoiding me for what? It didn’t make sense to me, because I know I hadn’t done anything wrong. When someone spends nearly every night with you and suddenly stops without any explanation, it just makes you go hmmmm… Not to mention, it was a blow to my self-esteem after a difficult divorce, because at this point my ex was in a new full-blown relationship.

The following week was St. Patrick’s Day, and I knew that Bawh-ston would be enjoying the festivities instead of paying me back the money he owed. He didn’t even invite me, but instead met his friend out (Samira saw him). I wanted to show up at the bar and give him a piece of my mind, but I was coming down with the flu and felt like complete shit.

Instead, I called and told him how I felt about the way he was treating me. He said I didn’t need an invitation, to meet him at the bar. I reminded him that he hadn’t spoken to me all week and that he still owed me money. He said he didn’t have the money this week (but he could still afford to drink at the bar). I could hear loudness in the background and him having a good time for himself. I was furious and hung up. I was so furious I called him right back and told him that I was going out with my friends and maybe I’ll meet a real man. He didn’t know I was sick, so he must have believed me, because he said go right ahead. I couldn’t believe he acted like he didn’t care. So while he was out drinking green beer, I was downing Nyquil, feeling miserable in many ways.

Less than three months later, Bawh-ston is “in a relationship” according to Facebook. I thought it was a joke, because he had just turned 44 years old, and this girl was only like 22 – the same age as his daughter for which he was still paying back child support! Nope, not a joke, because I’d learned they moved in together. So I called him up again asking for the money he owed me. His response?

“You want me to pay you for a date we went on together?” And he laughed about it. Talk about the wrong thing for him to do to someone he jilted and ripped off! I told him that he was a “looo-sah” of a man that had to have women pay for him.

To get him back, I waited about a month or so and had a friend send him random nude photos from her Tracfone saying she wanted to see him again. He actually fell for it for a little while until she sent some that didn’t have matching tattoos. (He still doesn’t know who was behind it. 😉 )

I learned earlier this year that Bawh-ston and the girl had a baby. Better her than me! Finally… the END of Bawh-ston!

Bawh-ston – Part 3

Wishing I was on the back of a Harley...
Wishing I was on the back of a Harley…

Bawh-ston Part 1

Bawh-ston Part 2

Bawh-ston and I ended up dating for less than three months. During those months, he was spending the night at my place probably five times a week. He had been living with a roommate and when the lease was up he moved in with his cousin, supposedly looking for his own place.

I cooked dinner for us (I paid for groceries) most nights, sometimes breakfast on the weekends. And I’m not talking hamburger helper here. If you’ve seen me on cam in the kitchen, I cook up some pretty good stuff that’s not cheap. Once a week he would get takeout, usually Chinese or sushi. He took me on an actual date once during the entire time we dated to a sushi place and then his favorite bar (where we were introduced). He was the first guy I went out with in public since my separation/divorce, which had been about a year prior, so that was big for me. I managed to get him to help me do some things around the house, like mow the lawn (once) and “fix” things my slumlord didn’t do. One of the last things I got him to do was help me move into my new place.

Around the end of month two, Bawh-ston and I went to a concert. Since the tickets had to be purchased together online and I was the only one with a credit card, he said he’d pay me back in cash, buy dinner that evening and drive. Tickets were $160 each. He gave me $100 and promised to give me the rest next payday. I ended up making us steak dinner, driving, paying for parking, and buying my own $10 beer. He acted like a fucking douche the entire night, walking ahead of me and ignoring me and being pissy. I suppose it was because he had spent all of his money on beer and pot instead of being a man and doing what he promised. Either way, the entire thing really pissed me off, because not only did he screw me on promises, he was treating me like shit on top of it – and I knew I didn’t deserve that.

At the time, I had just started a new job and barely scraping by, so now this started to become an issue. I was newly divorced and in a lot of debt from that, moving, and being unemployed for 5 months. I definitely could not afford to foot the bill on a grown ass man!

Shortly after the concert incident, I texted Bawh-ston on a Saturday during a huge event in the city suggesting that instead of spending money (that I didn’t have), we could buy some beer and sit by the river. It was a beautiful day. He said he was having lunch at the bar. I knew that meant – “lunch” was going to end up being the rest of the day at the bar. He stopped answering my text messages altogether, so I was fuming, and I began to wonder if he’d met someone else. Samira saw him at the bar dancing around like a moron, so she recorded it and posted it to Facebook. He was by himself in a mostly empty bar.

Apparently, he was pissed at me for posting on Facebook earlier that week that I’d rather be on the back of a Harley than working that day. He took offense to that, because he doesn’t own a Harley, but instead of being a man about it, he chose to ignore me. Here we go, I thought, another fucking insecure asshole I’m dealing with here.

To be continued…

And There Are These Guys…

For anyone promoting themselves in the adult industry, social media is a great avenue to use. Of course in this type of business, getting numerous messages can be daunting. When I first started, I took the time to try to answer everyone, even if it was just with a smiley face. But when I started getting hundreds of friend requests, messages, etc. to sort through on each site (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram), it became so time consuming I just had to give up on it. I learned quickly that these aren’t ever going to be paying customers.

Some of them are really nice. Some not so much. Of course there are the unsolicited dick pics. Most are time wasters and freeloaders.

 

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Telling me all of the details… but not asking for anything.

 

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Freeloader.

 

Some are just huge pains in the asses that think they are entitled to my attention. Like this guy.

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Douche.