Posts tagged ssbbw
No, I’m not talking about that cheesy movie from a long time ago. I think that last post was a bit harsh. I was trying to maintain a sense of humor, but as always, i got really critical of the very audience that has supported my work for nearly a decade. I wasn’t really insulting the entire audience though, just the ones who have never actually supported the work because they always watched stuff that came out for free.
I don’t want to get started all over again about that, but I just wanted to say that without taking the time to go re-read what I wrote, I will get a little more specific about who I meant to be critical of. It’s one thing to be complimented on work that someone saw completely free, but it’s another thing when other people are literally posting entire clips on a file sharing site, and then suddenly there are over a dozen clips floating around “for free”. Then someone responds to some twitter update by saying how great the content is, but they have never actually paid for it.
There is a consequence of doing that, and eventually, it is called “going out of business.” I should not have complained so harshly in that previous post, but later on that day I started to come down with symptoms of some kind of cold. The next day I had a fever over 100 degrees and I was sick for nearly 2 weeks with a pretty severe sinus infection.
In the middle of all that, I was informed that my van was going to get towed away soon at great expense if I did not get rid of it on my own, or finally fix it and renew registration. They would charge $300 for the tow that I did not want even if I told them to keep the van. I called the tow company, and they made an offer to buy the van for $50, but I had already made arrangements to sell it for $60 to another guy.
That might sound like I was ripped off something horrible, because the fuel pump I replaced just months before cost more than that. It cost me $300 to have the transmission mounts replaced, so that one bracket could come loose and nearly break my steering column. Now the van is not going to be a money pit any longer, and I believe that positive changes have happened because I got rid of it. Because there is less money coming in, the van will stop leeching money that I can’t even use as a business expense because the van wasn’t used in the business. The van became a real problem on a regular basis, and was no longer very reliable, so it simply had to go.
The van was simply too messed up after the transmission bracket came loose to fix easily. Even if the bracket could have been put back, the steering column was hit and leaking, and that was going to go sooner or later and in a very unsafe and probably horrifying way. So, I had to say goodbye to the van I have had for nearly a decade right in the middle of the worst illness I’ve experienced in that same period of time. I never get sick, but I had worn myself down with stress and anxiety about too many things, and I had to finally let the van go.
So, I just wanted to post a note here as I logged in to check on updates and other stuff. I know that i was being really insulting to an entire group of people out there who will never, ever pay for content. I can’t blame them in a way, but still, I am a “small business” not a big Hollywood studio. I know that other small businesses have gotten larger with expansion, but at this point, I have other issues going on that prevent me from giving 100% of myself to any business.
Just last week I tripped myself on the cane I use to walk because I need a hip replacement. In the fall I hurt the “good leg”, so it was even harder to walk for a few days. It just happened to be right before a weekend spent with a friend where I would want to help them out by doing some house work. Then, she discourages me from drinking, on the night I really could have used it, so I just passed out. I needed a drink more than ever being in the kind of pain I was in, and trying not to take pain pills for it. Luckily it didn’t hurt when I wasn’t moving or walking, so I was able to pass out, regardless of what kind of plans she may have had for “later”.
When I do finally quit drinking, that will be my decision. Being told “no” by someone is a harsh reminder of the way I am guiding my life in the next few months. It’s never too late to stop what is planned, but I have a feeling I’m going to have to go through the whole experience to know that I “maybe should not have done that.” I know I’m talking in code, but maybe in the near future I’ll be spilling all kinds of stuff here because I won’t have much else to do.
Well it had to happen sooner or later! All that time with a regular pattern of updating a clips4sale store with a new clip in expectation of being able to pay certain bills with that money is now over.
It’s a good thing that the website (exoticbbw.com) actually made MORE money than the clip store this month, because if it hadn’t, I would be in some deep shit financially. As it stands, I have given in to the temptation to donate freaking plasma in order to be able to make up for the LOSS that clips4sale has generated at this point.
Regularly, there would be an attempt to upload at least one new feeder clip per week, and there were times when Candy might skip a week because she just wasn’t up to getting made up and filmed doing something that she loves doing so much. Even if Candy really enjoys binging, being filmed while she does it seems to take away some degree of enjoyment for her.
This is ironic, because over the past couple of years, Candy would make the sacrifice in binging in front of a camera knowing that she would not enjoy it quite as much, for the sake of being able to financially support the types and amounts of food she wanted to enjoy.
Now, with clips4sale generating a revenue of about $50 per clip (6 clips this month), it is obvious that Candy will have to go CHEAP on the food, which means no more big feasts, at least until something changes with this crappy revenue from each clip.
Something has changed over there at clips4sale, and I am not quite sure what it is, but something has seriously been altered, shifted, edited, cancelled, or something. Some form of advertising or promotion that they used to employ must have completely collapsed, because over the past few months, income dropped dramatically, and it has stayed at the same low level even though there was an attempt at adding 6 clips in one month instead of just 4.
I have come to the realization that sites like facebook and twitter are pretty much useless to promote anything now. Candy and I used to have a term “ya-losers” which represented the losers on yahoo who would compliment and beg for free stuff YEARS AGO. They thought that a little flattery could get them some free content, because for whatever reason, they decided that since yahoo was free, everything that is promoted on yahoo should be free too. That graphic above shows how there are winners and losers in this business, and if you aren’t “sinfully divine” you are basically FUCKED right now on clips4sale as a SSBBW, or “super fatty” or as Candy calls them “blob chicks”.
Now, that has moved over to twitter losers and facebook losers, asking for “chat” and wanting to have their email read to Candy, in the hopes that being told for the thousandth time she is “so sexy” will have her offering to sit for hours in chat with some loser who isn’t spending one penny for her time.
In twitter, there is a monster machine of compliment and flattery, which would be awesome if that kind of thing paid one cent towards any bills that were covered by the clips4sale income. At this point, all the compliments are more annoying than flattering, because as we watch revenue go down, we realize that a majority of people who try to contact Candy at all are usually the wankers that want free shit, not the people who paid for a clip, got off to it, and went on with their fucking life.
Porn used to be something that was sold in a seedy type of bookstore downtown, and the customers did not interrogate the store clerk about “When was this made?” and “How much does she weigh right now?” These new questions and concerns came from some assumption that porn will be “interactive” and every time some jerk off pays $15 for a clip, they should get a half hour or more of free chat in the process. Some want to play “20 dumb ass questions”, and some even ask about free “video chat”! What a bunch of losers.
Now, I have started using the hashtag #freeloadingfeeders because as much as they seem to compliment Candy’s work, even calling her “legendary”, they are doing it in forums where more than a dozen clips are shared freely at a time. I just had to get a bunch of shit removed from a file sharing service that is in Taiwan, and fortunately they actually took the shit down when I filled out a DMCA complaint form. It took a few days, but that shit is gone now, and I will be keeping an eye on the fucking blog that keeps posting this free shit.
I’m sure that many other blogs post the same links, so the actual blog is not important, what’s important is that I am WATCHING now, and I will keep filling out that DMCA form anywhere and everywhere I see my shit distributed for free.
It figures that I was ok with a “little piracy” when it was promotional and it helped me make more money with my work. Now, I realize that all the free shit out there is basically over-riding the need to pay for anything, because there are at least 3 to 5 “Candy replacements” out there now, doing all the same shit over and over. Some have whole groups of fatties who get together and work out some kind of deal to split up all that “money” they WON’T BE MAKING.
Maybe they just do it for fun now, or just for the food. Candy has located at least one SSBBW out there who loves to binge on cam so much she does it right on youtube absolutely free. This is exactly what we needed to help boost our sales!
People seem to believe that porn will just keep rolling out no matter how much money it generates, but that is simply not the case. I understand totally now why so many models QUIT EVENTUALLY as I talked about in another blog post in the past. Sure, there will always be free shit, but YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR and that shit is pathetic, but hey, whatever.
There is no more incentive to keep creating this stuff if there is no money being made from it, period. Watch as this economy keeps dropping into the shitter, and see how many of these lovely fat women quit doing this shit because it is NOT WORTH THEIR TIME FOR FREE.
People will keep producing stuff, and I guess eventually, there will just be a few conglomerates or REALLY POPULAR FATTIES that keep going because they are the ones who are still making some money. In the meantime, I get hit with alleged compliments that are REALLY INSULTS because people are TOO FUCKING DUMB TO REALIZE THAT WE DON’T APPRECIATE PEOPLE STEALING OUR SHIT OR WATCHING IT FOR FREE.
Either way, there is a quit date on the horizon at this point. I appreciate the money that was made in the time that it was made, but I don’t fucking work for free. Candy doesn’t either. Now that she sees the money going down, she feels somewhat insulted and it is doubly difficult for her to stomach making any kind of sacrifice in vein. She would rather binge off cam because “Fuck that shit it’s not going to make money anyway.”
So, the freeloading feeders can keep asking “How big is Candy?” and shit like that, and they will keep getting either ignored, or told to shut the fuck up and buy a fucking clip to find out. Odds are, if they are asking, it’s because they DON’T WANT TO BUY ANYTHING anyway. That is leading me to assume that the d-bags that ask me shit are the least likely to spend cash, so they should fucking be ignored. The ones buying the shit are wanking to it and going on with their life, because they actually have one. The ones chatting me or Candy up are the losers that are “too good to pay for porn” or something.
I think I’ve gotten most of my irritation with all this out of my system now, but it should be noted in a very public way that I am working on something really cool to do that makes me money in the future, and I’ll be very happy not to depend on the fickle nature of porn and it’s “fans”. I can see why some people who have quit porn are so irritated by it, and by the shadow of former fame that continues to follow them even though the MONEY DOESN’T.
I used to walk around looking at women, thinking to myself “Wow, that one would get a great reaction online!” and now I realize that I would never want to condemn someone else to the pitiful fate of being led on with some regular cash at first, then the disappointment and let down of making less and less because of so many women and their grandmothers, literally, jumping into the porn and/or tease game. I even got to meet one woman who has an impressive body that I KNOW people would love to see at all angles doing all kinds of “adult” things… Well, that SHIT ISN’T HAPPENING so this body is ALL TO MYSELF, FREELOADING FUCKS!
I even had this woman ask me flat out if there was any way I could sneak her into my work without giving up her identity, and I was like “Fuck that shit, these d-bags will have your shit all over the place trying to figure out who you are, so fuck them, it’s not worth the whole $10,000 you MIGHT make per year showing off, then watching that dwindle down to EVEN LESS OVER TIME. This shit has me wishing that I had used all the free time I had to figure out another way to make better money doing something that didn’t cater to such a group of low life freeloaders like porn surfers.
Yeah, I said it, and believe me, the most popular SSBBW making the most money is THINKING THE SAME THING. They are just smart enough not to say anything online (or maybe not when it comes to the freeloaders). Either way, I don’t go to strip clubs, even if there are fat women, because it’s depressing and horrible to watch women beg these cheap mouth breathing freaks for cash (me included, I’m a cheap bastard too).
I know, “Tell us what you really think” right? Well, that’s what I really think. The people who have written to me asking this or that, pestering me for details that they could easily pay to see, are even more extremely irritating to me now that there is literally NO MONEY IN THIS SHIT ANYMORE. All these new BBWs and SSBBWs want to jump into this shit because now it’s “ok to be a fat model”.
Yeah, I never thought I would wish for the days when more fat women hid themselves! There was a GOOD REASON fat women were so HARD TO TALK INTO MODELING back in 1998 when I did my first fat porn website… Now that there are just a dozen more than “internet capacity” the money has run out like a SSBBW PORN BUBBLE BURST.
Take it from me, when I see “she’s legendary” in the comments on a forum where my shit is being FLAT OUT STOLEN AND SHARED I get pretty offended, and Candy does too. That’s why it is only a matter of time before this shit is not going to be produced anymore. Fortunately though, I will STILL HAVE MY SHIT DELETED AS A FUCKING HOBBY just to irritate the fucking freeloaders. I’m going to make my shit as rare as a Prince music video on fucking youtube, just for fun, out of spite to these freeloading fuckers.
I may seem kind of angry, but I’m watching a business I built back in 2003 go down the toilet. Even worse, it was my SECOND ATTEMPT because that big bitch Alexis from fatfantasy.net basically stole my first SSBBW project away from my young dumb ass in 1998. That makes it even worse, because had I been given the advantage of never having to FUCKING START OVER I may have been able to milk this shit for even more before EVERY FAT WOMAN AND THEIR GRANDMOTHER STARTED FUCKING MODELING. Even worse, they can “barely model” at all and still suck out of that limited pool of fat jerk off money on the internet.
Now there are so many bbws that appear somewhere on the internet, some bbws call themselves models when they have no website, and they have not formally appeared in any capacity. Those are really “escorts” though, and that’s a whole other story because I am in Las Vegas, where you literally CAN’T THROW A STICK WITHOUT HITTING AN ESCORT. So, the escorts call themselves “models” now trying to get around laws against prostitution. Yeah, they AREN’T MODELS. They will say they can “model for $300” but don’t be fooled, the cops will get them eventually. It looks like the show “Cops” on television makes busting prostitutes seem more like a hobby than a “job”.
I’ve probably gotten all of this angst out of my system by now. I’ll be having an interesting new year’s eve, and not quite what I would have imagined just 2 years ago. So much has changed, and I have done a terrible job of documenting it better here. I’ve had such an interest in writing, but I never really went anywhere with it. Even this post is more like a bitch out session to the entire internet than a “regular blog post”, but that seems to be my “style” when I get busy typing. It’s like therapy for me to get all this out, and while some people would not consider me very “professional” for doing it this way, I have never done anything business related exactly how other people would do things. I do things MY WAY and I did not fail to make money for over a decade with that philosophy.
Now I am just a dinosaur in this realm though. I don’t pull out a funnel to force feed, I don’t even get squashed regularly, and Candy doesn’t want to squash me because she doesn’t want to fuck me up for a clip that won’t make money anyway.
Candy was never one to do “whatever I told her”, she is independant, and she can be hard to work with as well. It is no surprise that very few efforts to have her model with other people have been followed through on. Candy has her own anxieties and her own hesitation when it comes to doing certain things and trying to model with other people. Even if there were a line of people wanting to model with Candy, it would be difficult for her to make it happen unless the person was very likable AND persistent. It would help if they didn’t have “some dude” start talking to Candy about modeling rather than the model herself, and it really isn’t going to happen if someone comes across as wanting or NEEDING shit. A friend in need is a friend indeed… There is a good fucking reason for that saying, and I’ve had to learn it the hard way, thanks again Goddamn Patty…
Unfortunately, people with both of those qualities very rarely exist, it’s usually one or the other, and there is usually a giant AGENDA that rules over it all. You just have to hope that the agenda they say they have matches the one they REALLY HAVE. I won’t even get into the bullshit with “Goddess Patty” that never should have happened… Fucking con artist… I’ve been told that the well known plus sized (some say SSBBW but she won’t) model Tess Holiday has ripped some people off before too, but it’s all forgiven, because she’s so popular and “likable” now. Yeah, don’t believe everything you see on television, or movies, because those people can be con artists JUST LIKE ANYONE ELSE, and if they used to work in media and quit, DON’T BELIEVE THEM WHEN THEY TALK ABOUT A COME BACK. That move is used to rip your ass off so quick you don’t see it until they left town.
Closing in on tax time, having already “done the deed” and paid what I owe, I’m reminded of how the year really does kind of start in April for me instead of January. I have had a slight anxiety about tax time since a few years back when I made the totally ignorant decision not to file for 2 years. I was getting income without any W-2 or 1099-Misc, so I thought, “what they don’t know helps me.”
It wasn’t very long before that delusion was fixed by the realization that sooner or later, some other shit would get tied into taxes, and if you didn’t file, you couldn’t take advantage of certain opportunities. Just a few short years later, after I had already repaired the financial damage of catching up, Obamacare was announced.
It was rough to catch up, because I had to print out everything from 3 years, because I was filing the 2 skipped years as I filed the 3rd year “on time”. When I saw the difference in how much the year on time cost me versus each year skipped plus penalties, I realized how foolish it was to skip those years to begin with. I considered just filing the current year and not saying anything about the 2 skipped years, but then the whole thing happened with “Wesley Snipes” getting busted for owing millions.
There was a freaky, weird combination of paranoia and intuition causing me to decide to file 2 skipped years as I finally acted like an adult and filed the current year. There was also the fact that “clips 4 sale” uses a system of sending out a 1099-misc whenever someone makes more than $600 in a single year. Success has it’s consequences.
I was lucky to make more than $600 in a year, but shocked to see that 1099-Misc come in the mail in early Feb. At that point, it all hit me, that I was fooling myself, and that you can’t fool a data mining, privacy invading entity like the U. S. Department of Treasury and get away with it. When I filed those 3 years, I did it in person, bringing paper returns in to an IRS office in myself.
I made a comment to the big beautiful agent who I ended up with that “I’m not going down like Wesley Snipes.” She laughed out loud. I also made a comment that there is no point in hiding income because the government knows how much you make already anyway. All my income is “digital” and I’m sure that I am not the only one being made aware of each deposit from each company.
I was so nervous about all that stuff, as most people probably would be. Yet, I chose to put myself right into one of their offices, in person, and hand over tax returns from previous years in an act of surrender. I kept reading that the IRS goes easier on you if you go to them rather than them coming to you. That translates into something else that happened years after I caught up and continued to file on time.
When Candy was gone the second time for 8 months, I got to know a neighbor who started talking to me while I was outside smoking cigarettes that I no longer smoke. His name was Kevin, and he worked as a carpenter, which also means contractor. He was good at what he does. I’ve seen some shitty carpentry, and his work was way superior. He knew what he was doing, and he could get jobs with apartment complexes that were being remodeled easily.
He had made some friends with apartment management people who could provide him with regular work. Even though he didn’t have a typical 9-5 job, he was a hustler who could go out there and find some kind of job just as he needed the cash.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t filed taxes in over a decade. He had been working “under the table” here and there, but a few of those apartment complexes did issue him 1099’s because they were up to date on their taxes, and nobody is going to pass up the chance to write off payments to contractors as a tax deduction. That’s where my buddy Kev got fucked.
He was so confident in his ability to get away without filing taxes, that he had an account at a credit union in his own name, with over $10,000 in it. One day he knocks on my door freaking out because he want to his credit union to get some cash, and they told him that his account had been closed by the IRS.
Another irony. I felt dumb at one point for giving up all the financial info that I did to end up with a tax liability that was pretty close to the $10,000 mark myself. Luckily, I didn’t freak out, and I simply started a “payment plan” with them. After just a few years of paying a bare minimum, there was only a little over $1000 left. At that point, Candy was gone and I was having financial issues, so I called them on the phone, and I was able to request a “penalty abatement” right then and there.
Because of my positive payment history, and the fact that I had continued to file on time every year after, they actually took off $1000 of penalties, so I went from owing over a thousand to owing under just one payment with one phone call to them.
The lawyers on television that advise you not to talk to the IRS are real douche bags. Those greedy, selfish cock suckers would have you pay them thousands of dollars to file an “offer in compromise” which the IRS turns down a vast majority of. That means, you could pay a lawyer to file that one thing for you, and then the IRS turns it down, so now you still have to pay them the full amount plus pay that scum bag lawyer!
I could have tried an offer in compromise myself, but I don’t think it would have been accepted, because the first year that I started paying on those back taxes, I made more cash than I had in any year before or since. I went up to nearly 29K in one year, which for me, is a lot. I know that so many people would feel some kind of pity on me for living my whole life around the 20k per year range, but money doesn’t make me “happy”, life experience and growth does.
The request for penalty abatement is easier to get than an offer in compromise, and not to mention it only took one phone call instead of pages of documentation. I didn’t really owe quite enough for an offer in compromise anyway. That’s for the big hitters who get paid twice what I do every year and go twice as long as I did without filing!
When Kev lost his bank account, I started to suggest a few ways that he could hide his income in the future. He had already considered some of those things, but he was in a panic about what to do “right now” and what to do about rent when it was coming up. I immediately felt compelled to start avoiding him at that point, because a “friend in need” and all. I’m so used to people going into “bum mode” when something like that happens, but I should have considered how Kev really is a hard worker.
Kev did bounce back, he got some job and started making money just in time, just like I did myself when I got 2 job offers just weeks before barely having rent in the bank. The problem with Kev is, even though he started making more money, he already felt such a loss, that his hustling habits started back up.
By the time I left Louisiana, he had managed to beg around $40 off of me, which is a *lot* because I don’t give money out like a charity, usually. He also owed me a little weed, but it didn’t matter by the time I was leaving Louisiana because I didn’t want to be traveling 2000 miles in a uhaul pulling my van holding on to a drug that could literally cause me to lose everything if I was caught with it. At least, that was before getting the medical marijuana card, but then again, while moving, that card would be worthless in the 5 states that I would travel through on the way to Nevada.
Nothing justified the years of paying monthly on my back taxes like watching Kevin lose over $10,000, and not even want to approach the IRS to see if he could get that money back if he agreed to file all returns not previously filed and get on a payment plan to pay any back taxes owed. When I suggested that to him, he looked at me and laughed, saying “I will never make enough money to pay them what I owe them.”
That’s what I may have thought myself at the time when I got hit with the letter from the IRS after they “evaluated” my case and gave me the bottom line figure that I would owe them. It’s ironic that I talk about how adversity creates inspiration and motivation, because the year that I got that bill, I’ve already said I made more money than I had ever made, and more than I have made any year since then.
Now, I would be crazy to jack my income up over $20k, because I have to keep it below %133 of the federal poverty guideline in order to be eligible for medicaid. Why is it so important to be eligible for medicaid? Because, I realize that if I made $20k instead of less than $15.5K, at least according to the federal poverty guideline issued for the year 2014, I would probably not be able to afford insurance payments, prescription cost, plus paying estimated taxes all year so I don’t owe over $800 like I did this fucking year!
I was lucky because I anticipated putting out around $600. I thought I had paid enough to only owe $500 by the time I filed, but the fucking self employment tax calculator I used was off by hundreds of dollars!
Yeah, I thought I would owe $500, and because the first estimated tax payment is due April 15th, and I wait until nearly the last minute to file because I know I have to pay out, I was ready to put out $200 for the first payment along with $500 for what I owed. Unfortunately, I owed $800 and still had to make a payment by the April 15th first estimated payment deadline, so I only paid $100 in estimated…
I am not paying estimated taxes quarterly this year. That shit is too hard, because every time I am prepared to put out over $400, for one quarterly payment, some shit comes along and causes me to delay paying that much, and then I fail to catch up later in the year. This year, I’m going to pay $250 or more per month, so by the end of the year, I will have already put up $2000. That way, if my taxes are higher than that, it can’t be by much, and I will be able to make a full first estimated payment at the same time I pay off whatever I failed to pay for the previous year.
My expenses went down, my income went up for 2014. That would normally be a good thing, but not in my case, because it bumped me up to the next higher tax table and I got hit with about $400 more in taxes owed than the previous year. Just making an extra $2000 cost me more than $400 in taxes… Not spending $500 in expenses this year that I spent in the previous year also raised income by that much too, which fucked me even harder.
The truth is, I am such a cheap bastard that I have been successful in my first month quitting smoking because I can’t bear to pay nearly $200 a month in fucking cigarettes! Fuck nicotine, that shit is too fucking expensive! Paying that money for cigarettes each and every month was throwing away some of the income that I am limiting to be eligible for medicaid!
Drinking beer also contributes to money loss over time, in what adds up to a shocking annual expenditure, but not nearly to the extent that cigarettes were. The sad thing is, our wonderful, allegedly “free enterprise” system came up with this strategy of penalizing smokers with artificially raised cost in order to deter them from smoking. Isn’t it ironic how the poorest of people cling on to such an expensive, self destructive habit?
When I started to seriously add it all up, it was so shocking to me that I was able to be bled so hard by taxes and then waste so much money on top of that! I, like most people, would choose for years to be so lazy that I would have every ability and intention of adding up those little costs over time, but I would conveniently prioritize it so low that I would never get around to it.
It wasn’t until I started to add stuff up in my mind, using approximations about frequency that are probably remarkably accurate without going back to the receipts that I have organized into categories. I could have simply started using a more thorough method of organization to put cigarette receipts in one envelope, and then pull it out after 3 months of accumulation to come up with a monthy, and yearly average cost. That would have probably shocked me into quitting smoking right then and there.
I didn’t need a “new years resolution” to quit smoking, or to make my accounting method more purposeful and serious. I have finally dumped my out of state checking account, so I can have all my income reflected in all deposits in just one account. Lucky for me, the local account that I have now allows me to search for specific transactions over a defined period of time and actually provide a total at the bottom of the spreadsheet.
I won’t mention names of banks here, but the old bank had the capability of searching a date range for deposits, but they didn’t give a total at the bottom. I would have to take a screen shot of that spreadsheet and then manually add up the numbers over a whole year with ‘calculator’.
The new account does it for me, so it’s one stop shop to see income total at any give time in the year. This allows me to create a very distinct trajectory over time and give a pretty good estimate of annual income based on the first few months.
This is internet publishing, so amount of income can fluctuate based on effort put into the work itself. The second one stops updating things, the money stops soon after. The work basically goes “inactive” and people start copying it and putting it everywhere. I like to say that all models quit, and when they do, the dating sites start using their images as spam, because nobody that attractive joins those dating sites.
So, instead of quitting smoking cigarettes as a new year resolution, I made a fiscal year resolution. It’s not exactly the same time as a corporate fiscal year, it’s an idea that pops into my head when I consider my use of the title “the year starts here.”
Now, I have had the idea to not only stash business expense receipts into one envelope, why not use the 3 categories that I use the most? Supplies, Repairs and maintenance, and Legal and professional services are the 3 categories that I have used consistently for certain things, and I maintain all receipts and notes on why those receipts are relevant.
I get so specific that because food is something used as a “prop”, I can’t put it into the Deductible meals and entertainment (see instructions) category. It’s bad enough that I use “supplies” when it’s followed by ” (not included in Part III).” The “meal” is being used as a prop in a mini documentary, so it is actually more of a supply, assuming props for production would go there. It’s an item being used but destroyed in the process of creating a documentary which generates nearly all income being taxed to begin with. It’s a full circle that somehow combines taxes with food. Weird.
Because I would not want to appear to be abusing food as an expense, I keep all food receipts that are not used as props in another envelope. If I were ever confronted about the use of a dozen or so food receipts as expenses, I would pull out the huge envelope of food receipts for the same year that were *not used*. While the receipts for the food that was not used are irrelevant to taxes, being in possession of those receipts validates the relatively few receipts that are being deducted as expenses.
This strategy is what I call the “avalanche of paperwork theory”. It cost me an ink cartridge when I was ready to verify my income to the department of welfare to keep my medicaid, and all they wanted was the 2 pages of the tax return that showed income and expenses. Like they had to go compare it to the database they have stashed somewhere that shows what the government already knows I am making.
I’m not taking all of the assistance I could, because I don’t want to be dependent on any system that one political party wants to destroy so badly. Oh, guess who? I don’t have to bash conservatives here, I rarely get deep into politics unless I’m talking about drugs.
I really do need the help though. Even if I made more, I would be paying even more taxes. I am legitimately making under %133 federal poverty guidelines, but I still had to pay $2397 in “self employment tax”. Yeah, I would pay less taxes if I made more money working at a fast food place… That makes so much sense to me.
In a way, Obamacare is not free. I am paying for my medicaid, because my income after expenses is below $15,000 a year, but I am paying $2400 in income tax. I was prepared for just over $2000 because of that shitty online estimated tax calculator. I was doing the whole year income after expenses, so it wasn’t like I was depending on it for the quarterly payments. Now, I don’t want to make quarterly payments because a monthly bill of $250 or more is more manageable than coming up with $750 a quarter… I have no fucking idea why they don’t *encourage* that.
They know that they are taking a big chunk out of a very low income, and they don’t care. I pay it, because I would rather be honest and pay it now than be caught and pay even more later. I know about data mining and data collection. I know that there are databases that I have no way of knowing about, but if it’s possible, and smarter people than me are working on it, I can rest assured that they are reading what I type as I read it. It’s not paranoia, I’m not angry about it, I just live my life in gratitude that I have what I have, and I have the talent and ability to create what I create.
I’m not bitter because I don’t make a lot of money. I don’t make a lot of money because I don’t try. I don’t try because I have very real physical and emotional issues that are waiting to be completely resolved. I have quit smoking, and I am not the slightest bit tempted to go back. I didn’t get drunk on ice beer last night, and I wasn’t trying “not” to drink. I don’t have to drink every day, I could go days or weeks without it and just shift over to another hobby, maybe writing in some blog that nobody will ever read.
I can’t drink when I want to do something, because I know, while sober, that while I’m drunk I don’t want to do anything, except for drink, and maybe rant weird shit on twitter and facebook for some reason. Actually, I kind of suspect the reason already, being a coping mechanism that I picked up when I was emotionally devastated by Candy’s 2 previous departures, and then the constant threat of leaving a 3rd time after we moved to Vegas. Thankfully, that has been resolved, and therefore, Candy has given me a break from being depressed so I can work on my fucking issues for once.
It’s ironic, that Candy wanted the version of me that she met to “come back”. She kept leaving and coming back hoping that every time she left, I would get better instead of getting worse. In a way, I got a lot better after she came back the second time, because I managed to keep working that shitty job that was ripping me off by not paying my payroll taxes, and I saved up enough to move to Las Vegas a 2nd time in my life.
This time I had the big 16′ truck, towing the big shitty van, that I still have and it still actually works. I never drove a truck that big, I never towed a 6 wheel trailer with a shitty van on it, and I was lucky to only have to back up one time, to leave the parking lot I was moving from, and I almost fucked up the trailer hitch right then. Luckily, I had enough space after getting into that weird angle to go forward, clearing a big brick fence, but going right over a bunch of grass.
The irony of Candy leaving and coming back hoping to find a better version of me is that her leaving created a catastrophic deep level depression that would take time for me to resolve. There is no immediate reaction in this complex brain, and habits ingrained over time have to be removed over time.
When Candy threatened to leave the 3rd time, while we were in Vegas, it didn’t help me to get better. It caused me to descend into the emotional state I felt either time she left before, but only on occasion. There were stretches of productivity and drive interrupted by intense episodes of inner depression. Candy would not see them as an obvious manifestation of anything being “wrong”, she would just notice that I got a little more drunk than usual, or listened to sad music instead of high energy electronic music.
There wasn’t much room for sympathy in Candy’s heart for what I was going through, because she started to feel like she already “had enough”. I started to recognize a familiar pattern where Candy comes back, I am working on myself, but I’m not fast enough, she loses patience, and she runs away again.
I quit drinking vodka because she came back, but she knew that I had to step down with beer until a certain “point”. That point was for me to choose, not her, and she recognized that while she was gone, she wanted to work with me to get through it because she was not with me for months before.
I would make promises, but still know and share my limitations based on my ability to just “snap back” after what really was a complete nervous breakdown. Most people who got down to the level I did would have had to go through a lot more bullshit before pulling themselves out of it. The fact that I managed to get a job while Candy was gone showed her that I could stay sober long enough to at least pull that off.
When Candy came back, I didn’t think I was overdoing it, but I kind of was. I was setting limits on myself and then breaking them repeatedly. We were staying in different rooms, and by the time we would decide to “hang out”, I was drunk already. I didn’t stay drunk all day, but our timing was such that we would tend to “do our own thing” all day and then maybe hang out in the evening. If I started drinking too early, or Candy hadn’t announced she wanted to hang out early enough, I would start with the beer, and it didn’t take much.
When I was doing vodka, I had a high tolerance. When i started doing beer, I used the 12 pack limit over 2 days to try to control myself. That started to break down, and not long ago I was picking up the 30 pack because it’s “cheaper”.
It’s not really cheaper if a 30 pack is consumed in even less time than 2 12 packs. It wasn’t until I started to see myself descend into a higher and higher tolerance that I realized what I was doing to myself. I was slowly letting it get worse instead of better.
Candy had an epiphany that involved a lot of shit I don’t want to get back into now, but she realized that she couldn’t control me, and the time line for me to get back to “normal” was not decided by her, or even all parts of myself. It wasn’t until I decided to finally stop smoking that I realized how much control I could grasp again over all other addictions disguised as “needs”.
Candy is related to my desire to quit smoking as well, because when I watched her breathing getting worse and worse before treatment, I realized that she didn’t even smoke and she could barely keep enough oxygen coming in. She’s huge, so just standing up for her is like me picking up 300lbs. I can only imagine what it would be like to be on a level of gravity that few humans ever experience, without weight lifting.
I started to notice that as I was pushing her around on this bariatric transport chair that I would get winded way too quickly. I would notice it during sex, and also realize that it effected my energy level too. Once I started to realize how much i was paying to destroy my sex life, quitting smoking wasn’t a priority, it was a necessity.
Because I can actually use having sex to create content, which creates income, I also have another incentive to stop spending so much of that precious little income on something that is destroying my physical ability.
Now that I have quit smoking, there is less of a desire to consume too much alcohol, because there is a renewed awareness of my ability and how it is compromised by the use of both nicotine and alcohol.
If I think I am a relatively smart person, I should not have figured this out so slowly. On the other hand, it’s hard to want to improve yourself when you secretly want to die. I had to have many varied experiences involving other people besides Candy to finally realize that I was limiting my own potential and also the time I have to do everything that I fantasize about doing in my short and half over life.
In just the very first month that I have quit smoking, I have tested myself in a variety of ways, and I already see a marked improvement of oxygen intake. I realize that I have smoked for 2 decades on and off, more on than off, and it will take much more time to do serious healing. I realize that I may never be granted with the full capacity I might have if I had never started smoking that shit to begin with.
One interesting fact, after getting the medical marijuana card, I made the simple observation that nicotine doesn’t get you “high”, it just takes you down from an anxiety that is created by the addiction to it in the first place.
That shit is fucked up. I get so mad at myself when I realize that quitting smoking right now, and paying taxes monthly instead of quarterly, is going to cause no change in my budget whatsoever. I don’t have to set aside money for taxes if I’m paying monthly, and because I’m saving almost that amount by not spending it on something else, the taxes become more “invisible” unless they go even higher.
When I bring the drinking down to half of what it has become, I will be saving even more money. The beer doesn’t cost as much as cigarettes though. If I spend $8 on beer as often as every 2 days, that’s still $120. That is the maximum allowed amount that I let myself get though, with my strategy of attempting to control alcoholism through intake restriction rather than abstinence.
I was spending that much on crap that I don’t need, and I am way too poor to think I need that shit! I am not bitter about being “poor” because I enjoy living with such a strategic outlook and not giving away money on crap that I am being made to believe I want, when i don’t really want it.
I have been putting off changing my cable bill for days because I didn’t prioritize doing it, but I got a digital antenna that picks up more channels than what I paid cox cable for 13 of them. $27 for 13 channels, that I would say are “shitty” but I do appreciate local news. The irony is that there is a free digital channel just for local weather, that shitty cox cable doesn’t include in the minimum package.
I’m glad I write here now, because I’m going to bring my cable bill down under $100 a month, and still have the highest speed internet below business level, plus the shitty phone with no long distance as a local incoming phone that doesn’t use up “minutes” on the “pay per minute” plan I still use! While some people spend over $100 a month on a fucking phone, I pay about $20 every 2 months for a cell I only use when I have to.
I can make so little and be so content because I own my shitty vehicle, and just have to bust my knuckles up a little when it fucks up. I have an old shitty phone with no internet, that I don’t have to pay on monthly. I build my own computer systems about every 2 years, so I haven’t purchased a company branded computer system since the late 90’s. I don’t watch much television, so I have one, but it’s an old CRT probably less than 40″. Now I have a digital antennae hanging from the ceiling in an artistic way that picks up more channels than the bare minimum shit package from cox cable.
I can live off of less than $1000 a month, but I make a little more than that, no matter how much I try to keep it at a certain point. It’s like a natural habit for me to do things online that happen to promote my business and end up causing a little bit of a ‘surplus’ here and there over the year.
That’s why my next investment is going to be to accept mastercard as well as visa. I’m saying this as ccbill takes around $85 out of every payment until they hit $500 for the annual visa renewal required for them to process visa for my website.
Another irony. The clips4sale store sent me a 1099 for over $11,000. When subtracted from total deposits, that means the web sites made just over $5000. That is before expenses, which is why my income is still under $15,000. My expenses were still under $2000, which fucked me, which is why I want to pay the additional $500 this year to start with mastercard.
I didn’t do it originally because mastercard was such a smaller market. When I could not take visa, my membership went into the toilet. I only started clip stores because I could not afford the $750 way back to take visa when they started to require it. I should have, because by now, I would have made more, and the renewal would have been less painful when it is taken out of income rather than spent on it’s own.
I will have to spend the $500 for mastercard just to keep expenses up to what they were this year, because my cheap ass doesn’t like to spend money, even on the business. That’s why I have had to quit smoking and now I want to quit drinking because of how much money I could save, meaning how much less I have to make, meaning being even more fucking lazy!
I am such a hippy now. This flower child wants to do the least work possible, but I have issues when some of my “fun” is in promoting and creating the work. If you love what you do, you never work a day in your life. I guess that’s why I am addicted to creating super fat content.
With this new year, new energy, and new motivation, I have also finally created some video that I have wanted to create for a long time. I have been going back to doing the hardcore stuff. It’s not as easy with a fucked up hip, but I still manage it, and now that I have better oxygen intake and more energy, I am getting back to where I was in the Florida days. I know I’m not even close to being back there yet, and at my age, I’ll be lucky to get to %80 of what I was capable of when I started in the early 30’s.
I impressed myself with my last clip though. I haven’t released it yet, but instead of being 14 minutes long, I accidentally got up to nearly 25 minutes. I was just having so much fun fucking the piss out of Candy in front of a camera again that I got carried away, and it shows. That’s the whole point though.
I am finally getting back to who I was so long ago. It’s ironic that Candy always wanted this guy back, but it took even more than getting her back to bring him back. I have to give some credit to another woman that I had to hurt so badly, and I feel badly about it. If it weren’t for her though, Candy may never have realized what she was about to lose forever.
I guess one can take it for granted that Candy rarely, if ever, reads this blog. When I talk ‘about her’ in the way that I do, it’s not spiteful or with any need for vindication. I point it out because it is the truth. There is another woman who helped me greatly, and it did hurt me deeply to have to disappoint her.
Candy wants this version of me to come back, but that version existed with different rules, agendas, and inspirations. I am still trying to resolve how I can fully return to the mindset of wanting to be fully monogamous to Candy, after the change from that status seemed to start a chain reaction that almost destroyed the relationship on multiple occasions.
I am not saying that I need an open relationship to return to being the guy I was when Candy met me, but I can’t help but notice the connection from the patterns created in the past. Candy left the first time just months after I said I only wanted to be with her. That did something to me that hasn’t been “fixed”, and as I clear my head of the nicotine and alcohol, I am starting to see it more clearly.
I worry that the need for alcohol arose to begin with because I could never be happy with myself if I never got to the bottom of what I think I want or need out of life and relationships with women. I’m already kind of a “special case” because I am a “pornographer” and I tend to enroll whoever I am with into my work.
I say “whoever I am with” because there was the super sized woman I have already posted photos of here who I worked with when Candy was gone the last time.
The woman I met and had an affair with while Candy threatened to leave a 3rd time had a remarkably similar look to this woman, and she was actually available, and ready to go all out into a live in relationship when Candy was ready to eject.
One can imagine what this has created within my brain, and how I am still resolving this, even as I continue to try to better myself by quitting smoking and finally controlling drinking. All the things Candy really wanted, and I had to fuck her over in order to give those things to her. The irony is never ending in my life.
Time is funny. One can remember some events with such clarity, and yet, other events that might be more recent seem cloudy and distant. One can remember something from childhood as they reach middle age, yet most people can’t remember the dream they had the night before.
For some reason, negative events seem to imprint themselves into memory so much deeper than the positive ones, with a few exceptions here and there. I can remember the feeling of achievement when I passed the A+ computer tech certification test without having paid for any training or preparation classes. That memory is not as strong as the one of me driving back to Louisiana while leaving Alexis in Florida, and leaving behind my first successful bbw porn website at the same time.
I can remember some of the songs that played on the radio, like Duran Duran “Girls On Film”. I thought it was really ironic that I would catch that song from the very beginning as I flipped through an otherwise blank radio band in the middle of bum fuck nowhere Florida. I can remember that the weather was nice, and while it wasn’t too hot, I had to restrict my speed to under 55 miles per hour because the radiator in my 1985 Toyota pick up truck was partially clogged, and I had to leave Florida too urgently to replace it first.
I can only partially remember driving to Florida in that same truck, pulling a U-Haul trailer nearly full of junk to a house that was owned by the woman who would later install the fear of death into me with her lies and schemes. I can remember taking the plane to Orlando to meet her for the first time better than I remember driving myself there with all my stuff to “move in”.
I was such a fool to move in with that woman to begin with. I laugh and laugh when I hear about people living across the country from each other, meeting up a few times, then moving in with each other. I’m sure it might work occasionally, but I am now under the impression that you don’t really know someone until you have lived with them over a freaking year.
If you happened to move hundreds or even thousands of miles from your former home when you move in with someone, you are kind of trapped, unless you hold on to just enough cash to get your ass back home for the first whole year. I was dumb enough to get talked into marrying that woman within the first fucking year.
There is no way that I should have gotten married to her, but when she suggested it, I thought it would give me more security in ownership of the company I created if I was married to my partner. That was such a bad idea, because I was so fucking stupid I did not realize the company was really in her name, and so was the website that I poured so much of myself into.
When I got married to her I was entitled to “half”, but only if I was willing to stick around and fight her for it. By the time I was ready to leave Florida, I had no fight left in me. Alexis had me thrown in jail twice on made up bullshit. I was never arrested in my life before going to Florida, and now, at age 46, I have never been arrested since either. I’m lucky that I fought the charges instead of taking a plea deal, because I don’t have any record of any convictions, and I wasn’t forced to stay in Florida for months longer taking “court mandated anger management courses”.
I wasn’t going to fight her for that website or business, and I wasn’t going to stick around Florida one second longer than necessary once the charges were dropped against me. The very day of my final court date, when I was told I was free and clear of all that bullshit, I stopped by and said goodbye to one female friend that was special to me, I stopped by the bank where my business account was to empty that out, and I got on Interstate headed for “home”.
I didn’t even have a U-Haul trailer just yet, I made my first visit back home with my cash and the clothes on my back, leaving an apartment with a third of my stuff in place. Once I established residency back in Louisiana, I drove the 700 plus miles each way a second time to pick up the little bit of crap I could sneak out of her house without her knowing.
I was pretty bold back then, to even try to sneak my shit out of her house when I was waiting on a court date where she agreed to drop any charges that she had made up to begin with. Alexis not only lied to get me arrested, but she also lured me back to her house, to call the cops again, to have them catch me there and lock me up for violating a restraining order.
The first arrest was traumatic enough, but when she tricked me into coming over there just to get me arrested again, she just helped me to make up my mind to leave her and that business far behind as quickly as possible. The second arrest was so much worse, because I was already violating a ‘bond condition’, so I had to hire a second lawyer to get me out the second time, after having to stay in there for five days. The first arrest, I was in lock up overnight. The second arrest, I was in general population for almost a week.
The first lawyer was just for the divorce, and he tried to tell me that he could get me out of jail, but by the third day I was on the phone with another lawyer, paying $3000 on a credit card that I would never pay back. It’s wild, I never declared bankruptcy, but because I left the state of Florida and never allowed any credit agency to know where I was for seven years, nearly $20,000 was dropped right off the credit report. No bankruptcy lawyer needed, or wanted. I had enough with lawyers, and now I realize after all that stuff why people make such cruel jokes about them.
“What do you call a thousand lawyers at the bottom of the sea? A good start.”
I know that I got away without having to pay that credit off, which is good for me, but at the same time, Alexis was able to continue to collect any profit from the business I created for years after I left. It is a good thing she was so fucking ignorant and lazy about how to go about doing that, because her websites all started to go downhill once I left. People actually noticed, I still get occasional notes to this day.
The websites are still there. Someone purchased or was given the business “Bigger And Better Inc” and they continue to keep fatfantasy.net and biggerandbetter.net going to this day. I have lifted a few photos from there to show proof that it was me right there next to Alexis when that business was at it’s height.
I spent a whole year after I came back to Louisiana just getting my shit together. I had to get a job, I eventually had to replace the truck, and I had to find a place to live that didn’t do a credit check so that they would not find me to try to get a judgement, and so the apartment considering me would not see that I had just broken a lease in Florida to get the fuck out of there. I was only in that apartment for a few weeks, and left it cleaner than I found it, but they were entitled to make me buy myself out of the lease because I did sign one.
So, $20,000 in credit card debt, and a $4000 penalty for not finishing a lease. I got off cheap. A few years later, I would fuck up and skip filing income taxes for 2 years, so I did pay an extra $2000 for fucking up like that. I was still lucky in that case, because after spending years paying that off, I made a call and requested “penalty abatement” and I actually got out of paying the last $1000. Again, no scumbag fucking lawyer required for me to reduce my tax liability.
It would probably take them quite a while to get around to auditing me, because I was so fucking honest with them to take on that kind of penalty, pay it off, and keep taxes paid up every year since. I even keep receipts that could be legit business expenses but I don’t claim them, so if I am ever audited, I may actually be found to be wrong *IN MY FAVOR*. I’m sure they don’t get that too often!
It took me a whole year to run into a woman who happened to work with phone sex. She also had a website going, but she was buying skinny content and creating a website to resell it. She was probably doing ok back then with that, because there weren’t tens of thousands of porn sites in existence just yet. This was 2001.
More importantly, there still weren’t very many BBW specific porn sites, and virtually no porn sites that specialized in SSBBW. When I first met Dia, she had never modeled, even though she had an eloquent feminine figure that happened to include FF cup breasts.
Dia was already in the adult mindset, she just never realized how powerful her body type was, until she met me. She hadn’t done much research on the BBW niche’, even though she had been working in phone sex for years already before I even met her. While I was getting myself into all kinds of shit in Florida, she was sitting back making cash just talking dirty on the phone.
I would have thought right then and there that I had met my future forever partner. There was an issue though. Me. The experience I had been put through with Alexis, at that age, with that much loss, created a PTSD like syndrome where I became obsessed with getting credit for my work in Florida, and better, creating something all new that was all mine.
With Dia’s help, I got some pointers on design, and I was able to create a much more attractive site than fatfantasy.net ever was. I also pulled out 21 cd’s full of images from Florida and went to work using those to build my all new site, hotbbws.com.
Within just a few months, the checks started coming. My work had only been seen on one site before, so it wasn’t long before my photos started to get attention and make money. My site was prettier than her’s, even though looking at it now, it is not nearly as fancy as the current corporate assortment of bbw and ssbbw related porn sites.
I like to say that the prettier the site, the less content there probably is. I think that is a really correct assumption when I see the high quality design capability of some webmasters combined with models that quit after a few months, or are way too lazy to create new content on a regular basis!
I was so driven, but it was by revenge. I wanted revenge on Alexis, but not in the typical way that some people go crazy and destroy shit or hurt people. I saw a slogan on a daytime talk show before I ever left Florida where someone said “The best revenge is doing better.”
I could have taken my own advice back when Candy left both times, because I acted a damn fool online, and seemed to get off on making hurtful comments just to disturb people. It took me months after Candy left to attempt to get revenge by “doing better”, and by that time, I had already done too much damage to ever fully recover socially online.
I was crazy motivated to find new models in addition to using all this content I had. I was lucky to have photographed releases, ID’s, as well as about 2 dozen plus different bbws and ssbbws. I didn’t have any of the video, even though I was in almost all of them, and there were at least 2 dozen hardcore videos too. That was back in the days of VHS, before the internet had a prayer of ‘streaming’ a whole porn, television show, or movie.
That was back in the days of DSL and T1 lines. Alexis had invested in a T1, but once cable internet came out, that shit was totally obsolete. I bet that fucking woman kept paying hundreds a month for years on that shit, because the websites were hosted in a fucking garage.
Once I moved back to Louisiana, cable internet was available, and pretty cheap, and I was able to take full advantage of it. It was not long though, before Alexis saw what I was doing, got jealous, and went fucking crazy to knock my shit down. She harassed my hosting company, my internet billing company, and got me shut down by just being fucking annoying. These days I know it is not quite as easy to get someone closed down without a fight, because the companies that exist today are much more stable than the ones back then.
For example, my host was shitty, and over priced. My billing company was fucking GLOBILL. If you do any research on them, they fucking ripped off hundreds of people for thousands of dollars when the last fucking check they mailed out bounced, and people who had thousands of dollars coming in a month were FUCKED. To my knowledge, Globill never fully paid back any of the poor fucks they stole that money from. I hope those fuckers still have problems because of that shit.
It wasn’t long before IBILL went down next, and that was the company Alexis used. I was lucky to have been so fucking pissed at Alexis I would choose CCBILL before ever going to IBILL, JUST BECAUSE ALEXIS FUCKING USED THEM.
All this time a lot of other shit went down though. After Alexis got hotbbws.com version one shut the fuck down, I had to switch over to using all my own content, which luckily, I had been working on for a fucking year by then. Unluckily for Dia and me, my obsession to get new content pissed her off. She was too jealous at that time to understand my absolute need to find other models and pick up where I left off in Florida.
There was a point one day when I had made plans to photograph someone, and Dia was ok with it at first, but of course, we got into an argument right before I was supposed to leave. I was still so fucked up from Florida. I was doing all of this shit just to get back at Alexis, and prove that all that fucking work was mine. I didn’t even care about the fucking money, I just wanted credit for all that fucking work!
Little did I know at the time, if I could have afforded a lawyer, I could have shown that because I was the photographer, I had rights to use that work, and I could have further sued her for damages in getting me shut down. Either way, I fucking hated lawyers, and I didn’t want to fight her. In fact, soon after I got to Louisiana, I cut off all contact with her so that I could not be accused of harassment back in the days before “stalking” existed.
The argument with Dia was heated, and she was so pissed at one point that she said something that I could never forget, and could not accept at the time after Florida. She said “Do you know how easy it would be to kill you in your sleep?”
Now, if it was me in the present, I would give her suggestions on exactly how to go about doing that without it hurting me or fucking up and leaving me alive and fucked up. I have that kind of sense of humor, and now I am old enough to welcome death as long as it’s not too painful and I don’t have too much time to suffer.
Back then, I was still traumatized from Alexis. That bitch had me thinking at one point that people wanted to blow up her house, people were following me, she had mafia affiliations, people were being kidnapped and tortured for information, and we were in debt to an organization that was providing protection.
All that was such stupid bullshit, and I was such a fucking dumb fuck to believe it for a second. I let that foolishness go on for about 3 weeks, and one night, I got fed up. Alexis sent me to what was supposed to be a 24 hour post office, and she gave me fucked up directions, and I was in the middle of nowhere. I hate wild fucking goose chases! I pulled up to a payphone, and at the risk of being shot in the head right then and there, I made one phone call. I called her bluff by risking my very life.
That’s what I mean when I say that Alexis put the fear of death in to me while there. It was only 3 weeks, and I was the one to blame for believing such an outrageous set of lies. I still have the micro cassettes that I used to bug her phone after she pulled that shit, just to see what other fucking shit she would come up with.
I let my mother listen to those tapes before she died, and she was on “team Thomas” after that. She sat back and listened to Alexis talk to another woman about how she knew an ex cop and could have me “taken care of”. That, and a few other statements, provided more than enough encouragement for me to get the fuck out of there. When confronted, Alexis would claim that she knew I had the phone bugged and she said that shit to bait me.
She was a liar, but she was too fucking stupid to get over on me once I busted her compulsive, pathological liar ass. I know that shit was for real, because there was another conversation with her son in law, who was a cop, about how a “pattern of arrest” could show a pattern of domestic abuse, and enable her to forcefully push me out of the home, the marriage, and the business. She didn’t need to do all that shit. All she had to do was ask me to fucking leave.
On another conversation, she talked to someone else about how she had everything “set up” to take over, but she needed my help, and she needed my work ability. I once told Alexis when I knew shit was going downhill that when I finally had enough and left, it would take five different people to do “my job”. To this day, I still believe that to be absolutely true, because i have listed off the many jobs I have to do in another post somewhere I don’t want to stop to dig up.
Before I finally left, before the last court date that would free me forever from her, I had a conversation with her about how I am “out of control” and maybe I should just go back home and leave everything to her. She started crying, begging, pleading for me to stay because she “needed my help”.
I told her that I had a few conversations with her friends that revealed some wild shit. That was the cover I used to avoid telling her that I was still bugging the fucking phone. It was a lot easier to bug a land line phone than it would be to bug a cell, but I imagine even that is not impossible, or very difficult. The fact that I was even compelled to go to a “spy store” in 2000 and buy a voice activated micro cassette recorder and a microphone cable that plugged into a phone jack with a double phone jack plug let me know that shit was out of control already and I had to get out. I was just looking for a reason by the time I was waiting months for my second court date after spending five fucking days in jail and blowing $3000 to get my ass out.
I have to wonder how long it took for Debbie to call Alexis when I stopped by her work to tell her I was on my way “home”. I was really telling both “Little Debbie” and “Big Debbie” at the same time because they worked together. They had both modeled, and I had been filmed having sex with both of them. Alexis would be the only one to see that money after I left, except for the $3000 that I pulled out of the business account and kept in my sock on the drive home.
Back to Dia though for a moment. When Dia told me just how easy I could be murdered, potentially by her, while I was sleeping, it was too much at that time for me to accept. I still regret bringing her to that state of anger myself. The real irony is in the fact that the woman I went to see could not even take photos because her relatives here staying in a trailer near by, or some bullshit. That fucking bitch made me drive nearly an hour each way to tell me that shit instead of letting me cancel online. She caused me to literally kick Dia out of my apartment for saying what she said because she was rightfully angry and upset at me.
I didn’t just put Dia out on the street. I was still friends with my second ex wife Stori at the time. Stori appears on hotbbws.com too, but only in the member’s area, because she wanted to be “discreet”. I was way too agreeable as a fucking pornographer back then! I would tell Dia that I would stay with Stori, and she could take as long as she needed to get her shit together and get the fuck out. I still can’t fucking believe I did that to her.
Because I was so driven at the time to replace my work lost in Florida, and then lost a second time at hotbbws.com, I had to do it. I don’t think I could do that to her now if I was in that situation all over again. I still feel badly about it, and I resent Alexis more because of how badly she fucked me up over there. I really should have gotten counseling for that shit, and so much other shit to follow!
Dia took about a week to two weeks to prepare, and I took her to the bus station, and she went “somewhere”. I don’t even remember now, because she is not where she went at this time. I still talk to her online, and have talked to her by phone, and I have apologized profusely for doing that to her back then. I just could not handle it. I was so fucked up. She had a quick temper, and odds are, I would have pulled some shit sooner or later that would have caused us to break up. I still think she is one of the most beautiful women I have ever had the pleasure and privilege of photographing.
I am fortunate that she is so gracious and forgiving, so that I can still count her among my friends, even if she is so very far away like all of the closest ones, except for Candy. I still maintain bbwdungeon.com as an ad for her phone sex, which she still freaking does. Exoticbbw.com was originally her’s, and she gave it to me when she decided she wanted to stick with phone sex over websites.
Bbwdungeon.com was once a member site, but I could not sustain the costs of hosting it back when I had really shitty hosting. Thankfully the hosting issue is resolved, so I can finally add shitloads of stuff to all the sites. The problem with me lately is the block I have in working with hotbbws.com or lots2luv.com. The reasons for that block are partially explained somewhere else I’m sure, and explaining it again here would drag me way off course, more than I already am.
I hit over 4k in words so far, and now I think I have gotten myself kind of lost. I realize that I had to come back to Dia, after going way off course with Alexis, and then Stori, and of course Candy. There is something I realize is vitally important to go with all of this, and I still haven’t figured out the title of this post just yet, but my stream of consciousness writing always seems to come full circle, eventually.
Because Dia was so fucking hot and my paranoid ass dropped her, I had to find more models. I was working full time as a computer tech with the small shop I worked at before going to Florida, before upgrading from that job to a tech job in New Orleans that I hated having to drive to, park for, and hated them for giving me shit when I failed a drug test 3 months into working for them, as they casually said they “forgot” to do it pre-employment.
That is a whole other fucking story right there, because the fact that they pulled that shit encouraged me to move to Florida and start fatfantasy.net instead of having to suck a boss’s dick every day. They couldn’t just fire me because they failed to give me the drug test before hiring me and paying me for 3 fucking months. They just wanted to give me a shitty assignment in http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chalmette,_Louisiana, which I wasn’t fucking having.
It’s bad enough that these assholes made me come to work the day that hurricane “George” hit in 1998, and left me stranded in a Bourbon Street bar watching television until the water went down so I could see if my fucking truck got flooded while parked under interstate. Luckily, the truck was ok, the shoes weren’t.
Anyway, anybody who has heard about hurricane Katrina knows what happened to Chalmette. If the drive to New Orleans every fucking day and evening wasn’t bad enough, they wanted me to go another half hour to fucking shitty Chalmette. I would be a computer tech in an oil refinery having to wear a fucking biosuit.
That is an important fact to keep in mind, because that fucking computer company influenced me to move to Florida to begin with, and start my life of being a fat fetish ‘pornographer’ forever.
Also, on a side note, those alleged ‘flushes’ to help you pass a drug test DON’T FUCKING WORK. DON’T FUCKING TRY IT. USE SAFE PISS. I was asked by a co-worker when word got around that I failed the drug test “Why didn’t you bring in someone else’s piss like everybody else does?” Too honest for my own fucking good.
I didn’t fuck up like that when I got a job at CompUSA. I was so lucky to have a friend that didn’t smoke weed!
Back to the point. Because I had to dump Dia because I was a paranoid little bitch, I had to find other models. I did just that. Over the course of the next year I would end up luring at least a half dozen bbws and ssbbws to taking photos. I had to weed through the ones who didn’t want to sign a release and just have sex. I had to avoid the ones who just wanted “personal pics”. I had to focus on finding the ones who would let me copy their ID, and sign a fucking model release, and not bitch months later for me to remove them because they are a dumb ass who told the wrong person and they told the really wrong person.
I stumbled upon Candy around that time. Candy would be the death of me and my ambition to find as many models as I could, eventually. We met in early 2002, we were living together by the end of 2002, and we stayed in an open relationship “with conditions” until feb of 2008. I was able to “hook up” with a woman if she was willing to give up the ID and sign a release and be on my websites. That was the only condition.
That meant certain types of women who would inevitably contact me were off limits. A good example of that is “teachers”. I can’t tell you how many times I got an email from a teacher who said “I used to model but I started teaching and…” and i quit fucking reading. Sorry. Not really. Next.
Now, I sit back and watch wave after wave of new models coming into the picture, doing some work, quitting, then appearing in stolen images used to promote dating sites. Every time I see a brand new bbw or ssbbw model doing this or that, I sit back and wait until she quits, or has weight loss surgery, or both.
No matter who just started, or who just quit, there is always another wave of new models coming in and going out. Some of the ones going out like to stick around in the periphery of porn, by running group parties or annual conventions. They are still relevant to the bbw scene, but they still quit.
It is so ironic, that I had to reject and dump so many women over the course of my life to find, lose, and recover Candy. Once I met Candy, I was doomed. I must have fallen in love with her instantly, because I tried to “return her” back to where I found her, but after a few months, she always re-appeared.
Even when she left for 4 months and then for 8 months, I remained obsessed, because there could never be another woman who had the effect on me she did instantly, and further, I had never met another woman who cared enough about my own agenda to let me have it without greedy or jealous emotional restraint.
Once I was ready to give up all other women, I realized internally that I was giving up my old technique in finding new models too. In a way, I kind of “quit” myself, but I didn’t, because I still have her. As many times as I have lost her, i knew, that even if I came across a woman who was similar, there was no way to build up that kind of history with someone else. At 46 years old, I don’t think I have time to go through all of that over again and still be young enough to physically do the shit by the time I did.
I did meet one woman while Candy was gone, that I already went into great detail about. She is the unnamed ssbbw that I showed in the last post. I realized as I re-read the previous post that I said I never used a single photo of her in the 4 years that I had them. By posting her here, I just did.
By bringing up hotbbws.com and lots2luv.com I am kicking myself for not working on them more already. I don’t care about the money, I care about the unused content that sits on DV tapes in a back room closet. I have a computer that I set up with a firewire card just because of that camera and those tapes. I have hours of tapes of the unnamed ssbbw and I will be glad if 4 years in time travel didn’t fuck those tapes up.
I had to add another photo, the last one was after sex, so I’m sure it was not as flattering as this one. This photo was shot in an apartment in Metairie, Louisiana. If I had not moved to Las Vegas the last time when I did, I would have been holding Candy’s hand walking out of this apartment in 4 feet of water during hurricane Katrina.
Fate is a funny thing. Showing Dia at that apartment reminds me that I lived in Vegas before, and I was fucking lucky to have packed everything in that shitty car and have the exhaust scrape the interstate on nearly every big bump because of how all that shit and Candy’s huge ass was weighing that crappy car down. The transmission didn’t last too long after that 2 way trip 2000 miles each way.
The only woman I met when Candy was gone that impressed me nearly as much as her was married and living with her husband and kid. I am still shocked that she did the ID and release, and I really should have added her sooner. Maybe I was worried that with her living situation she might come back on me to remove her. Now 4 years has passed, maybe she forgot about it altogether. 🙂
Now I have used 2 images of this unnamed SSBBW. There is hope I can overcome the block I mentioned before with the 2 inactive sites. This woman is far too impressive to sit on my drive forever.
Just like I said before, no matter how many new models start, or older ones quit, there is always another wave, even if they took photos over 4 years ago! 🙂
you know, i kind of like this style of not capitalizing, but that was one way when people could tell when i was intoxicated. at this point, i am getting a thrill out of writing more while not intoxicated, so without that little hint, it should still be obvious if i am drunk or not, or if i might be just a tiny bit high.
i re-read the prior post, and i could go back and clean it up a bit, but i want to leave it, because i did announce that i was somewhat intoxicated, although not nearly to the degree that i have been in the past during my worst online behavior ever.
there has been some talk about an ebook that came out recently, written by a friend of candy’s, and this work was not very appreciated at all by so many people. at the same time, so many people provided negative feedback. when i see something like that, i am reminded of just how irrelevant my own writing can be, and how i am probably just ‘talking to myself’ more than expressing anything of any value or interest.
i realize that there are times when i go off on some tangent and i really try to get deep into something, but some of my own descriptions seem somewhat disconnected and incoherent at times. that is probably more related to practice than if i am intoxicated on alcohol.
i went into that forum i talked about before with an agenda. the main agenda was to just “make new friends and meet new people”. this seems harmless enough, but now i realize that the typical agenda of the individual in that forum is not going to be quite that simple. i forget that the “making friends” part is just “part one” in the advanced long term agenda.
i was fighting a losing battle to assume that my honestly simple agenda would hold much interest for those who would focus, rightfully, on those individuals who had an agenda that came somewhere close to their own. when i talk about “just friends”, that pretty much eliminates us from the swingers, the voyeurs, the unicorn hunters, and most importantly, the “fat herder”.
i briefly mentioned this “ptsd episode” where “drunk me” decided to “go off” in some forum because i felt that people hadn’t paid enough attention to me or something. i had been somewhat offended by the tendency for one person who ran the group to hit me with information about a group get together in response to my initial post, where i said in the last paragraph that candy was not into that stuff.
i felt disregarded, a little disrespected, and somewhat offended by that exchange. as time went on, that sense of being offended and blown off increased as there was literally no other response to anything i would post in that thread or any other thread i attempted to participate in.
now, if i had creeped people out already with my participation, or anything i had said, it still didn’t stop someone from blindly pursuing an agenda even though i stated in my post that we were not candidates for that agenda. this kind of social media cold calling is always very unattractive, because it’s going to draw in the kind of guys who are not so open and up front about wanting to “make new friends”, because they are looking for easy prey for one of many possible agendas.
it was really unfair for me to try to communicate with the most social acting person in that and literally hundreds of other forums, because i should have realized that she too was casting a large net, but for something that i would have no interest in if it involved having sex in front of people that we don’t know.
i should have known better that this person would really like to “get to know new people” as she seemed to try so hard to do with every other person in the forum. she was casting this net out there, reeling in as many people as she could herself, but as she said it was about friendship, it really wasn’t, and the vague and ambiguous nature of “he likes to watch” wasn’t very informative as to her likes and dislikes as an intellectual friend.
maybe a part of me was so used to being rejected sexually as a single male, that now, i am really insulted when i am rejected for simple friendship that doesn’t involve eventually fucking someone or watching them get fucked by someone else, or letting them fuck my old lady, or whatever.
i am really grateful for that whole experience, even if it made me “look bad” in the eyes of all those people who have an agenda that doesn’t match mine or candy’s anyway. maybe, just maybe, no matter how bad i get online, there are people out there who wanted to say the same things, but just didn’t want to deal with the burden of being a social media outcast.
candy should be ashamed or at least embarrassed by some of my behavior online, but she’s “used to it” now. she knows that as i go around making a fool of myself occasionally, that i am only scaring off the vultures and the buzzards that don’t want true friendship as much as they seem to want to find new sex partners gathered around the corpse they consume.
that is a horrible and morbid association, but that’s how i view the whole alleged size acceptance community at this point. people love to use that phrase, size acceptance, while they hold these gatherings where socialization comes at a price at the door, and the smaller bbws can stare and gawk at the ssbbws in much the same way everybody else in society does. i have heard, and fortunately not experienced, that this type of behavior is not only tolerated at some past events, but encouraged for amusement and entertainment.
that is a harsh allegation, but i have heard some pretty low down stuff about the ‘vegas bbw bash’ before it changed management and became ‘something else’. in the last year before the management changed, i somehow stumbled upon facebook posts by people who left early for some reason or another. luckily for them, all was not lost because the new group was forming as the old group was dying. it’s just a kind of changing of the guard, and for all i know, it may be better, but candy doesn’t want to submit herself to the mere possibility that she could end up being the entertainment when things might fall apart.
it doesn’t help matters that there has not really been any kind of close friendships online with the kind of people who shell out hundreds of dollars to “meet new people” at these events.
i am really cheap, so not only is it not really affordable to begin with, i simply can’t allow myself to invest without some kind of return on investment. that would provide me with an agenda as i paid hundreds of dollars, and the chance for real disappointment if i didn’t get exactly what i wanted.
that’s why i can just simply elect not to participate, for the comfort of everyone else involved, and because candy has no desire to walk into a room full of complete strangers, and watch the cliques form and she’s stuck with the online asshole that is me.
now, there are gatherings that are free to attend, and there are gatherings that have a small cost at the door per person, much more manageable, and without building up much expectation. the only problem with those gatherings is shared with the larger gatherings. there is a lack of interest to get to know people before or unless they actually attend one of these things first.
i have some fucked up perception at times, but this reminds me of a guy who doesn’t want to waste any time having to get to know a woman online before hooking up first. i am sure the ladies of a more feminist persuasion would love that argument.
much the same way, candy enjoys the online attention at times for being a ssbbw celebrity of sorts, but at the same time, it would be awkward and uncomfortable for her to enter a situation where the only attention she receives is from guys who wish they could fuck her, or women who pity her and want to give her advice to help her change because they used to be like her.
we went to hang out in a hotel room while an event was going on because candy wanted to hang out with just one person who was there for a bit. after candy got up to go to the bathroom, and her friend was off for a few minutes doing something, a woman walked up to candy and started sincerely talking to her about how she used to suffer like candy, and how horrible it was, and how much she worked to correct it.
i realize there is a natural instinct to be nice and helpful, but candy has had to remind me on many occasions about how offensive unsolicited advice can be, and this situation was not only uncomfortable for candy, but depressing, and further inspiration not to want to hang out with a bunch of fat people just because she is fat.
there are events in the past that candy has attended, but only because she was good friends with the organizer, so she got to hang out with the “cool kids” and she was protected from any possibility of being made a spectacle or being shunned for being super sized. it kind of helps when the group organizer is super morbidly obese herself, so candy doesn’t feel like the only one.
i know i was unfair in that group, i tried to contribute, but probably appeared kind of manic like i just wouldn’t shut up. this is after repeated complaints about how quiet members are. once i try to make conversation, every comment is followed by an empty box, until i come back and think of something new.
if i am talking to myself anyway, why the fuck should i be there? i could be typing here, and if i do that every day, this shit will eventually pay off in some way. this is the kind of agenda i should get behind.
that’s probably why i got impatient with myself and with the members of that tiny little insignificant group, and allowed myself to truly get nasty with people out of some need to burn out rather than fade away.
i did try to attend 2 different events on my own, to scout the waters of las vegas bbw interaction. the first event was called a “bbw take over” at some local bar. the bar was split into two main sections, and one was inhabited by people who obviously had nothing to do with the bbw thing. it was obvious in no time which section was designated for the bbw event, because there was nothing but rap music going, and a few women that seemed a little larger than the ones on the other side.
i mention rap music as it relates to bbw events, and have to take a time out for this little complaint. i might occasionally like to hear some house, or techno, like turning it into a mini rave for just a few minutes, but at this event, it was rap and only rap music. occasionally there was something popular in the dance category, but mostly, there were what sounded like independent rap artists that made references to “big women” repeatedly, usually making graphic sexual comparisons in the process.
there was a “booty meat” competition. sometimes i realize the very real handicap in being caucasian and having a preference for big butt white women. i can’t get away with telling a woman i like her big booty. black women will usually show off a big booty in a profile rather than cutting off all photos at the neck or maybe waist. that’s where i come up with a phrase i like to use, “white and uptight“. i totally understand how some people can have a racial preference other than their own when they just happen to be white.
i would not have really noticed that i was the only white guy there until i overheard one woman saying as she walked out “that’s the white guy“. it’s like somebody had a running bet on if any white guys would show up at all, and if so, how many. that wasn’t uncomfortable or anything!
that is connected to the second thing i showed up at. i always thought it would be cool to go to a fat strip club, or a strip club that had a fat/bbw night. there was this thing that a woman i have seen on a few websites was doing, and i went. i walked in, hung out at the bar, and this guy comes up to me saying “we’re the only white guys here!” ok, that was fucking uncomfortable. again, i hadn’t noticed it myself and it was not a thought that had jumped into my head, until this jabroni said it.
i was not really impressed by the dancers, except for one, julia sands. she is teeny tiny in my realm of interest on a physical or sexual level, but she was honestly the most talented woman there. most of the others just kind of walked around on stage with their pendulous breasts swinging, and it just wasn’t really attractive to me at all.
after that experience, i realize i would rather watch some of those women in pre-recorded content than ever see them attempt “stripping”. i am sorry for being so negative, but they were just not very good at dancing, the ones i let myself actually look at here and there. the one cutest girl there danced when i was outside getting high with the “only other white guy”, and that is what caused the cops to show up and harass some black guys later. cops are so freaking racist, and weed being prohibited is fucking racist, where is the naacp on that shit?
at the bbw take over event, the only person in that entire place that attempted to socialize with me was a skinny woman who pulled me onto the dance floor, and i think she was a prostitute. i managed to overhear the “white guy” comment because i was outside on the phone with candy, and a couple were leaving and walked close enough for me to hear that. it felt kind of racist to tell you the truth, but because of ‘white privilege’ i’m not supposed to feel discriminated against.
at the bbw strip club thing, i was still looking for a good weed connection, and one chance encounter at that place was vital for that to happen, but it was a guy i already knew from years before, who only came in to see one model for a private lap dance and then get the hell out of there.
i am still so grateful to him for that connection, because the woman organizing the event offered to sell me weed right there, but never followed through with it. she just wanted me to go to the atm to have money to tip dancers, and i wasn’t going to, because i was really uncomfortable with the whole strip club dynamic.
i had been to a strip club over a decade before, with a guy i worked with, because his girlfriend worked there. yeah, i was hanging with pretty interesting people long before the internet came along. it was only once, and nobody there hustled me for dances or anything, so i didn’t get the full experience.
at the strip club, the only people who talked to me were the guy i already knew, and the “only other white guy“, who talked about selling weed, but he never contacted me when i wrote to the email address he gave me. then there were the dancers, and again, i was just too intimidated and depressed by the over all energy of that environment that i could not bring myself to participate. i felt weird, like it would be deceptive to candy to let someone just dance for me, even though it might have helped to get a future modeling collaboration with candy if i had at least tried to tip and show some interest.
i felt weird and awkward, as if tipping someone would lead to an assumption that i was creepy or predatory. i never fully understood the whole strip club thing, and it probably has a lot to do with the fact that i have always chosen to socialize with women on a much more interpersonal and intellectual level. this tip for a show mentality felt deviant and primal to me. that’s ironic coming from a pornographer. being a producer of pornography, i control my environment, and i have decades of experience with the modeling dynamic as a photographer. the stripper and customer exchange feels too much like prostitution to me, which i believe should be legal, but i would never participate in it.
i had an agenda in going to those places, to “make new friends and meet new people”, and maybe see if anybody wanted to sell some weed. it turned out that the only person of any help to me at that time was one guy i *already knew* and candy begged him for the weed hook up via email days or weeks after that event. actually, probably the day after. thank god that happened. just like a game of grand theft auto, i had to hang out at a strip club to get my weed connection before i had the medical marijuana card. it took eight months to get that connection. yes, again, eight fucking months.
i really am grateful to that guy, and i should try to thank him online at some point, but it was no big deal to him, and he gets plenty of action to the point where he probably forgot even helping us out so much. 🙂
about the strippers that asked me if i wanted a lap dance, i was way too uncomfortable for that. even after 2 beers, a hard limit while having to drive, i was too inhibited to go for a “lap dance”. i did get to talk to julia sands, and again, while i have no fixation on her sexually, i admire her work ethic and her talent, and it would be awesome to get to work with her at some point. candy would probably be star struck and very uncomfortable though, so that may never happen unless candy goes for it, not me. 🙂
so, i was really aggravated about the woman at the strip club telling me she could hook me up with weed when she had no intention of it. maybe the cops showing up stopped it from happening, but it’s not like she ever followed up on it later. candy tells me she is probably a pill head who didn’t remember talking to me later in the same evening.
since i mentioned the naacp way back in this post, and something i believe they should look into, i should also mention how my main gripe with any attempt at social dependent size acceptance is in the group naafa. the national association for the advancement of fat acceptance. that group was created in an effort to raise awareness of size discrimination, but they quickly became more obsessed with growing membership and having “bashes” rather than doing anything having to do with raising awareness outside of the “pay to play” social group.
that shit is fucking classism. i know it’s easy for me to cry injustice in classism because i happen to be living in a controlled state of poverty. i don’t freak out about being “poor” because I am “poor on purpose” in order to be totally legally eligible for medicaid. i have done that as part of an experiment to see just how shitty medicaid is, and how many medical professionals attempt to fuck you up the ass when you have medicaid. that exercise in bureaucracy in and of itself took about three years. the first year was the year before obamacare even started, just seeing if i could regulate income at that level and actually live comfortably doing so. it turns out, in the third year, yes i can. 🙂
while i mention my distaste in the way that size acceptance was eventually used as a for profit social platform, it doesn’t mean i am against it because i can’t afford it. if i really, really wanted to participate in that stuff, i would make sure it happened. it took almost $300 just to get my medical marijuana card, so while i live in this regulated state of poverty, i was still able to achieve that easily. the point is, that investment is going to have a much higher return in personal pleasure and joy than attending a social event with a bunch of people i don’t know that i could not go to unless i paid hundreds to get in, or even nearly a hundred for both of us.
i watched as naafa basically disintegrated after the million pound march, where speaker carnie wilson would later end up being a living commercial for lap band, and convince countless women to endure this surgical experiment. one of those women was known by candy long before she ever met me, and that woman never made it out of the hospital alive.
now carnie wilson is probably having her third weight loss surgical procedure, because as long as it’s a celebrity, it’s not insane to keep doing the same thing expecting different results. it works so well i did it three times! what a fuck head.
i guess the name of this post, “agendas” was appropriate. i have given so much information already, and i feel like i could type for another two hours. this little exercise was therapeutic, because it prevented me from “day drinking”.
i will get so much more done and feel so much better to have gotten all of this out. this is obviously the proper medium for me to take out my frustrations with the state of affairs in everything having to do with fat socialization at this point in our history, comparing it to the past, and other failed experiments in the same vein.
now i am free from writing in inappropriate areas as well. this one little, or not so little post has given me insight into myself, my behavior, and my reasoning and perception of the world that exists around me that i only occasionally have to enter into.
I got an impulse to write a note here, after months, and after abusing anything resembling “writing skills” by making a nuisance of myself to a few people online.
I have recognized a behavior, that has taken place over the past couple of months, that was simply a progression of an embedded behavior that started years ago, with my experiment in addiction transfer.
It is probably obvious what I transferred to, and I think that there is a blog post here from the distant past that goes into very specific detail about the process. I have to check that, because if I wasted it on facebook I am a dumb ass.
I may have written it in a long, drawn out, mostly skimmed over or completely unread email, to someone who could not take me seriously because I was making the observation while intoxicated.
Over the past few weeks, I made a serious effort to break out of the loop I had created and neatly inserted myself into. I created a series of “personal ads” on any and every site that would allow for contact before having to pay a membership.
In the process, I came across someone very unique. She had an hour glass shape, but she had a career that prevented any kind of sexual content from being created involving her. I got to know her well enough to respect her career enough to tell her never to let me or anyone else ever take nude photos of her.
Over the course of just days, some of the emails got pretty intense. I got to know things about this woman that she told me most of her closest friends didn’t know. Before I knew it, I was talking to a person instead of a body.
It had been a long time, since I had serious, in depth, mutually beneficial contact with the outside world. Over just a few days of talking to her, the energy I expelled was so great that I was distracted from drinking. After a few weeks of heavy drinking to knock back the stress of taxes and a malfunctioning health insurance exchange, I had started to cause a progression of the drinking that was draining me, and draining Candy as well.
While talking to this one individual, I was granted with a temptation to keep my facilities in tact instead of blowing them away partially with 8-10 Milwaukee’s Best Ice. I only realized after a few days how easy it was for me to pour myself into my interests rather than kill interest in anything with the abuse of alcohol.
I broke down the exact mechanism by which I was using alcohol to wipe out anxiety, but I needed that anxiety in order to maintain order. The more I allowed myself to escape a familiar, inspirational form of anxiety, the further behind I got on everything, and everyone.
Candy hadn’t gotten to the point where she was threatening to leave. She was patient, and somehow tolerating my behavior, occasionally reminding me that it was hurting her, and occasionally blowing up in such a way that made it very difficult to restrain myself from escalating, especially while intoxicated.
Just a few days of some kind of deep, intimate, intellectual contact with another human being helped me to see from her perspective what I was doing to Candy. She had her own issues to work out, and I was trying to help her with them, because I let her know how grateful I was that she helped me to see things from just one outside perspective.
I had been isolating myself for so very long, based on many contributing factors. First, there is Candy’s social anxiety. I would feel guilty to go out every weekend partying with the fabulous people of Las Vegas while she sat at home, exploring a virtual world of “second life”.
While she would not show any signs of missing out to me, I am sure she would feel some kind of disappointment or envy if I casually walked out of the apartment to meet groups of people, while she sat confined by her own anxiety.
Just the thought of what she might feel caused me to start isolating myself. I removed myself from local groups on facebook, and I made absolutely no attempts to socialize locally. Every once in a while, I would get really loaded and write some weird 5000 word rant to someone in email, because I was having distress about my first world problems.
That wasn’t interaction, that was a one sided psychic barrage of negative energy, that the recipient didn’t need to deal with. I would be tempted to attempt an apology to each and every person I have ranted to like this, but I probably apologized at the end of it, knowing that I was in psycho drunk mode.
Talking to that one human being, that I never met, made me want to be a better person for Candy, because from her perspective. I could see more in depth how my behavior was hurting her, and more importantly, hurting myself. I knew I was letting myself get behind, I knew I was letting myself and everything I care about slip by as I literally walked right outside of time and space itself, creating a whole reality that only I could see.
That’s the biggest problem with alcohol. It’s a beautiful drug, with a potentially wonderful high, but once an individual is under it’s spell, it is way too tempting to pass way beyond any reasonable or acceptable limit. Once the limit is passed, one part of me is sleeping, and a very obnoxious, negative, pessimistic, condescending, arrogant, asshole comes out.
I would watch the television show “Cops” and laugh at the topless drunk guys trying to fight four or five police at once. I know exactly what is going through that guys mind, and it is depressing to me. The ride up to that point is fun, thrilling, and mind altering. The problem comes in when the mind has been altered to a point beyond reason and the ability to see consequence.
The woman I talked to for days eventually burned out, exactly like I told her she would. I made a comparison to her with a high wattage light bulb, that burns out so much faster than a lower wattage one. I told her this just days before she freaked out and could not handle the restraint it took to stop being a slut and make a few real friends for once.
I knew it got too deep, too fast, and she was developing feelings for me because I was the first guy who resisted her advances in order to get to know her as a person. It was not easy. She has a wonderful hour glass shape, much like the Venus of Willendorf I love to rant about so much. I told her about this, and of course, she had seen one of those statues a long time ago and remarked how much her body resembled it.
I told her that as a “fat woman”, she had an appeal that remarkably few “fat women” have. I have this whole obsession with the way that those Venus statues have that shape for a reason. That shape is extremely powerful, visually stimulating, and highly distracting. Even guys who don’t think they have any interest in “fat chicks” could easily get tripped up while under the spell of the “involuntary stare reflex”. The sight of such proportions has to be visually stimulating to more people than most people think, because I knew that the first woman I found with this shape would be noticed instantly once she had a web site.
It would appear that my new found friend had suffered the kind of sex drive that one might imagine could come with such a powerful figure. She never could figure out why she thought of herself as ugly because she was “too big”, yet guys hit on her mercilessly. She had impulse control issues, so she would give in, and then feel shame and guilt over it later. Once I got to know that much about her, it was easy to resist her occasional sexual comment out of respect to her as a person, and the trouble she had gone through with such a condition.
We helped each other somehow, and neither one of us got what our fantasies really would have wanted from the situation. I know that both of us really wanted to fuck each other badly, and in the back of my mind, I would involuntarily be working out a way for that to potentially happen “one day”.
One day could not come soon enough though, because the second the woman talked to Candy, she started to kind of hit on her as if she was a guy. Candy is no stranger to that kind of attention, and she resisted any sexual response. That actually offended the woman, because she had not hit on a woman in over a decade, and now she was rejected.
It’s sad, that the one time that Candy got her hopes up to meet someone that could be a new friend since October of last year, and the woman starts acting like a guy that wants to “hit that”. Candy could forgive this, but because the woman allegedly felt so ashamed, she had to call off a meeting that would have been planned just days later. She deleted her email account and her personal ad, but within 24 hours I found her replacement, visited it, and she was already writing me back.
I was disappointed, because here I was, sobering up so that I could focus and concentrate hard enough to “make something happen” after almost a decade of self isolation. The first visit would have been set up with no expectations of any physical contact at all. We were all trying to act like responsible adults, and meet as friends, get to know each other, and see what happens over time. It would have been awesome for a first visit to be completely non sexual, for the sake of Candy getting to know a fraction about this woman that I already learned.
Part of the reason I was so fascinated with getting these two women together was because of their personalities, not because I wanted to see them awkwardly attempt some kind of super sized lesbian encounter. I really wanted to see the energy exchanged between two women who held the same power, and suffered from some of the exact same consequences, over some periods of time that are literally just a few years off in age from each other.
They had the same trauma, the same issues, and the same heightened sexuality as a result of being stimulated for the first time in a highly inappropriate situation at an age that would create conflicting feelings about an event that should never have happened to them. I called it “sexually advanced”, because even though it was a result of trauma and abuse, it still happened to them, maybe because they held this power of attraction their whole lives, and a few weak souls who were wrongly given opportunity took advantage of it in the worst way possible. They would also be conflicted about their abuse, because at times, thoughts of it would feel just as stimulating and erotic to them as it felt wrong and traumatic.
Because I spent so much brain power figuring this woman out, and predicting exactly what was going to happen, I was finally inspired in two ways. First, to break the cycle that I placed myself in with alcohol. I didn’t really want to see it as a loop, because when you are in one, it is very difficult to WANT to see you are in one. If an individual is escaping reality to begin with, time is unfortunately a part of that very reality. Second, because of her insight, I could see myself from Candy’s eyes, as I tried not to get drunk so I could type properly to her.
The loop is easily established because humans are creatures of habit. We want regularity, schedule, and self discipline. Alcohol can over-ride the impulse to create order, and the anxiety that is in place to keep us on our toes in a very brutal reality. While alcohol seems wonderful and magical in wiping out anxiety, it seems to work a little too well on people with my specific condition, so far undiagnosed professionally.
While alcohol is kicking ass on anxiety, it is also taking away ambition, drive, motivation, inspiration, dedication, devotion, discipline, control, and vision. It takes away the ability to see what it is doing to yourself. I am very skilled at abusing things, because I got to the point where I could drink the cheapest and nastiest beer I can find at room temp, to avoid making trips to the fridge that Candy could hear, each one bringing her deeper into a level of potential conflict.
Maybe I needed to “sneak around”, and because I devoted myself to Candy, beer was the last great frontier of taboo behavior. I don’t crave the substance itself, I crave the altered head space. I enjoy the personality that comes out in the early phases of alcohol intoxication, but that is already an alter ego, who will gladly break all limitations that sober me put on myself.
I kept trying to fool myself into thinking that I could get a 12 pack, and not wipe more than half of it out. I thought I could stop at 6, saving another 6 for another day, and not even the very next day. That got fucked up though. I started getting a 12 pack, almost finishing it, feeling like crap the next day. Then, I might not drink that day, or, I might finish off the 2 or 3 left, get a little buzz, and get way too tempted to get another 12 pack and start over. That was progression. I wanted to keep using it so badly that I was fooling myself into believing that I was trying to control intake, when the drug was controlling me.
All this started because I placed a few personal ads, not because I thought the grass was greener, but quite the opposite. I created the ads to return to a mind space where Candy was gone for those 8 months. I could probably feel her disappointment and resentment over my losing control of the beer, when she only came back because I agreed to give up vodka.
From the moment I created the first ad, I could see the exact same patterns in the women that would appear available in my age group. It appeared that the few I would be attracted to went to a great deal of trouble to explain how unavailable they were, which meant they had baggage, which meant they were self conflicted, which meant they could be highly sexual.
Yeah, I am way beyond the “fat chicks are easy” thing. I know better. Fat chicks are actually harder, unless you know how to pick them. 🙂
I spent so much time wondering if I was conflicted about my real agenda in creating the personal ads, because obviously I have a very active imagination, which is something else the alcohol was killing. It was also pulling my sex drive down just a little bit. Not too much though, because even though Candy doesn’t want to have sex with a drunk guy, the drunk guy has literally worn her pussy out.
I have to point out, that I was compelled almost involuntarily to write here, after months of no activity. That gap in time between now and the last blog post is probably the length of time that I was falling down the alcohol spiral of non motivation, and I just allowed it to continue.
Maybe it was actually painful for me to use my brain for a while. When I am sober, I can tell I will be one of those hyper thinking former alcoholic types, because the abuse of alcohol was partially attributed to racing thoughts and high mental energy.
The effort I invested in getting to know this woman on a deeper level than just a few random fucks behind someone else’s back was invaluable. The perspective is something I could not obtain from a shrink I could not afford. Even though she dumped me, technically, even as just “friends”, I could only be disappointed for a little while because she granted me with something that I never would have had if I had not virtually met her online.
So few women have such a sexy shape, and even fewer have the intuition to show it off in full length body photos instead of hiding it away out of frame in endless face photos.
She was naturally going to get an avalanche of response, because that’s what she needed to build her confidence, because of a non existent, failing movement known as “size acceptance”.
Right here in Las Vegas, where there is “bbw shit” going on every other week, there are literally tons of beautiful, sexy, intelligent, amazing fat women who will never even know about it, much less have a desire to expose themselves to the kind of social pecking order that must exist in those types of environments.
Candy isolated herself once she hit a certain size because she was smaller herself once, and she always felt sorry for women that look like she does now. She can’t go out, even with a group of allegedly like minded “fellow fatties”, because she will project the judgement and shame of her size on every person she meets, even if that was the last thing on their minds.
She is embarrassed and humiliated, to the point where she imagines that some repeated invitations to meet out at some bar with some group were just to ridicule how fat she had gotten. Yes, if you were not aware, fat women do ridicule other fat women because of their size differences. 🙁 THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS SIZE ACCEPTANCE. It costs the diet industry TOO MUCH FUCKING MONEY. It is much better to make fat people hate themselves, because you can make more money on drugs, surgery, and “treatment centers” that shoot people up with God knows what.
Because Candy hasn’t wanted to go out to bars to meet entire groups of strangers all at once, she has felt a sense of rejection that all attention directed to her seems to have something to do with enticing her into doing exactly what she doesn’t want to do. These strange people have no idea of how humiliating it is to her to be asked to go somewhere, and when she declines, that’s pretty much the end of interest in her. We have been in Las Vegas for almost 2 years, and no model has ever appeared with Candy Godiva in that time.
It’s no skin off my teeth, I am perfectly grateful and content just to work with her and only her for the rest of my life. I just thought it was very ironic that in a city that is allegedly buzzing with bbw activity, there is at least one SSBBW who did get left behind.
I guess I drifted just a little, which means I have to wrap this up, because I have shit to do, and now I have to re-read all of this! It is easy to see why alcohol has been so tempting for me. My mind really works like this. I think like this. It is sometimes difficult for me to stay on track with just one subject, because I see connections that always lead so very far away. I am still trying to figure out how to exploit this talent to my advantage, and it’s not even about money, because obviously I am not too concerned with that. What irony, I live in Vegas, where everybody is trying to screw everybody else over, and I don’t give a fuck about money anymore.
Wow, what an observation. I am not on alcohol either. I have often said on facebook that I think I get even weirder off of alcohol, because there is some part of me that I have pushed down for so very long that I have to get used to being that person all over again.
Part of the person I used to be, was a model recruiter. Even if I don’t give two shits if I find a single model in this awful, God forsaken place, I will at least try. It has helped me to overcome another compulsion that was hurting me and my relationship. The grass is not greener. Another good reason for creating personal ads was to see all of the trauma and human debris that has been discarded for decades, sometimes for very good reason.
I wanted to see the horror and disappointment I would be faced with, having such a specific preference, being so very old, and knowing that I am actually “picky” even though I am attracted to the type of women most guys claim they could never be attracted to, but jerk off to secretly, thanks to me, and my super morbidly obese porn.
Yeah, it is going to take some getting used to, this part of me that I was literally drowning in ice beer. It is only just coming to the surface, and I have placed personal ads at ok cupid, fet life, plenty of fish, saucydates, connectingsingles, myfreepersonals, and datehookup. I have openly admitted to being in a relationship (where they even allow), and my only ambition there is to make new friends.
I may have fantasies, and one day a few of them may actually come true. They don’t rule me though, and I am living with an ultimate fantasy that I never thought I would see again when she left the last time. I was driving her away again, because I wanted to escape my isolation into a secondary alcohol induced isolation.
I believe that I wanted to take control of my decision to isolate myself, as painful as it may have been, by sinking into a state where I had to isolate myself from Candy for the periods of time that I was drinking too heavily. That probably makes absolutely no sense.
By creating all of this attempt to be social (and no, facebook isn’t social, it’s fucking fake social), I was able to find just one person who actually read most of my ranting instead of ignoring it. Unfortunately, I did not mean to create feelings in her that would have caused her to need to reject the friendship, but I hope I was able to teach her that she can find a guy that is just as interested in what’s in her head as he is about her massive, ginormous cup size…
I had my own fantasies of course, and Candy had to know it, as I awkwardly attempted to lure the sexiest woman I found locally on ok cupid right into the apartment to meet with us as purely friends with no expectations.
If I was so fumbling and awkward this time, I have learned. Candy knows that I will not be isolated any longer, and she also knows that as I set a better example for her by not drinking at all, I expect more out of her in facing her fears too.
I won’t force her to do anything she doesn’t want to, but just for a few days, Candy wanted to meet this fucking woman. The one thing that kind of pisses me off is that this woman hurt Candy more than me, because Candy never even saw this shit coming. She is talking to a woman about meeting up on sunday just to talk at first. Then she is being told that she is too sexy and she will cause this woman to embarrass herself if she makes a move that she allegedly could not help herself from making, because she wanted to fuck both of us that bad, and she could not be patient… 🙁
I wasn’t even trying to fuck the woman from the first damn visit, but in my extreme self examination with her, she got pulled into something that was way too deep for her to handle. It would surprise you to know that she has a career in a field where she has to work with people.
I know it’s in the back of Candy’s mind, that some day, maybe… As long as I am not the horny, pushy, sleazy guy who is pushing hard or forcing her into it. No, I am making new friends… What happens from there is up to her. If i get a raging boner I do have 2 wonderful holes and a multitude of fat creases to use to relieve that condition, that happened to be owned by a woman I really never thought I would still be with, much less living in Las Vegas with, and defeating alcoholism with.
I did slip just the other day, when this woman broke up with “us” before ever meeting “us”. I was disappointed that I caused Candy disappointment, because I knew I was never going to be smooth enough to pull off what I probably was trying to pull off in the back of my mind.
I hate to say that there is an equal exchange thing going on, but Candy hated drunk me. She knows that drunk me is a manifestation of my issues with abandonment, anxiety, insecurity, and isolation. She knows I can’t isolate myself, which is why she actively participates in my attempts to make new friends, even if she has serious anxiety about it, because she knows what I am capable of when I am not drinking…
I know I will probably still drink occasionally, but I will see it as a “slip” and not a “habit”. By habituating the regular use of beer, I was making it a part of a loop that caused me to allow everything I care about to decay and atrophy. I know that Candy is aware that there is a great energy shift going on, because if I even raise my voice while talking to her at this point, she has to say “energy!”, to remind me that I am psychically impacting her.
Oh, that’s another thing. I had totally been downplaying the psychic thing because it’s something I like to think about, and fantasize about having, but I am endlessly frustrated by the way it always happens in a way that looks like coincidence instead of intuition. I like to imagine that I use calculation to determine the future from using data of the past and present. I have to imagine that occasionally, there is a calculation that is just too close to call, so maybe there is actually something to the small nudge that some kind of inner intuition can create.
Alcohol was also destroying intuition, because it interfered with an ability to calculate probability, and visualize consequence. Visualization was also highly distorted. All of this shit feels really awesome when you are “drunk”, but if I get drunk as often as every other day, the residual effects that alcohol has will still continue to influence me even when I appear to be sober. Damn my studies in neurology! I have to go!
It has been quite a while… Even now, I want to do something else, so maybe for once, I can keep it short and sweet…
I have been drifting off into never land with all my wild thoughts and potentially irrational assumptions for a long time. I have decided that I may have to return to this activity, even if a part of me wonders what it is all about after I have created hundreds of posts that are tens of thousands of words long, and then delete all of it and start over again…
A part of ‘this place’ is going to be about ‘me’, and another part of it is going to be some serious shit that I seem to come up with involuntarily and almost compulsively bombard Candy with to the point where she literally has a head ache… I need to put it here, and stop giving Candy migraines… And, stop bugging people on the face book… 🙂
I have had a ‘bug up my ass’ for a very long time about the ‘weight loss surgery’. I have read extensively, comprehended partially, and asserted my opinions rather randomly, for a long, long time now… None of it seemed to really make much sense probably, and I was too lazy to even go back and re read any of it myself. I am sure I would find some of it brilliant, some of it stupid, and some of it just drunk rambling nonsense… None of that matters now, because it is gone… All of it… Maybe a part of me thought it was such shit that I had to start over. I believe a prior post addressed the possibility that I created it all just to delete it years later and confuse the fuck out of anyone who even noticed any of it was going on at all…
I have googled the term “forced addiction transfer”, and I welcome you to do the same. It is ironic, at least to me, that as I google this term, I am ‘obesity biased’ because of my prior experience and rather confusing sexual fixation on super morbidly obese human females. It should have come as no surprise that as I attempt some feeble research on the seemingly random string of words, I find several references to weight loss surgery.
I thought for a second I might be re-inventing the wheel, and I would have found some result, somewhere in that very first page, where those words were strung together, and google would even provide a convenient bold type on those words and a short paragraph before and after them. As it turns out, that wasn’t the case. Maybe if I dug just a little deeper before bragging about my discovery on face book, I could have found other connections to this phenomenon that have been very well documented and carefully considered in some random ‘fat blog’ somewhere on the internets…
I saw ‘junk food science’ come up, of course, a professionally written, beautiful in all of it’s effort and eloquent in the writer’s style and thorough investigation. Of course that writer would dive into this topic, because they are such a logical match of psychological phenomenon. My own issues with self discipline, self control, addiction, and compulsive behavior would help me to understand more about what the words “addiction transfer” actually mean, from a very real perspective of experience and pain.
I may have written about and deleted previously issues that I developed when I became worried about the legal liability of using one drug and subsequently switched over to a more legally acceptable one. This would have pleased ‘society’, but unfortunately, the woman that I consciously or sub-consciously choose to love would not be able to handle this change on a deep emotional level. Her prior experience with users of this legally accepted alternative caused her great emotional distress, up to and maybe beyond what one would call “PTSD”. What was worse than her having this condition was her own lack of understanding of it. If she could not get to the bottom of what was making her such a bitch, all I could do was evolve, adapt, and attempt to compromise.
There could be no compromise between two people who both refused to give up their ‘drug of choice’ just because it was emotionally inconvenient for both of them… This caused much greater pain and tragedy for both parties, and I acted out in ways that I have not experienced for over a decade when I felt someone ripped me off and stole my money, my credit, and my very “artwork” for a year’s time. Of course, later I would realize that all of that mess was my own fault because of my bad decisions and young dumb judgement… I paid, I learned, I matured, I moved on.
One day while watching Dr. Phil of all people (it’s almost painful to even type it), I saw him say that you can’t break a bad habit, you can only replace it with a constructive activity. The way I interpreted that was, the ability to switch over from one bad compulsion to another bad compulsion is “addiction transfer”. Switching over from one negative compulsion to a “good” one is thought to be “breaking a bad habit”. It is painfully, blatantly obvious that in order to really solve all those issues entirely would be to figure out exactly what about the human mind causes some people to be more compulsive than others, and then, how do we specifically address compulsive behavior and “addiction” without being clouded by greed and a desire to mold the media’s message in a way that we create a “rehab society”. Rehab from sex addiction, rehab from drugs, rehab from behaving badly.
It troubles me to know, deep down, that this rehab society has turned to the “dark side” where obesity and the compulsion of over eating is involved. I realize that there is so much more money to be made so much faster by cutting someone open rather than digging into their mind. It is also painfully obvious to me that the total lack of interest in digging into the ‘obese mind’ is due to the fast cash to be made by desperate people who are willing to have perfectly healthy organs cut out and altered in order to control behavior.
In my personal experience, as I sit and type this, I am stopping myself from wasting time entirely by playing a long, complex, and involved video game. When I decide to sit in that game, I am stopping myself from bombarding some useless and pointless face book page with random thoughts. When I am particularly distressed, this behavior can even begin to creep onto others with emails and little posts on this or that “thread” of conversation that I am not really invited to join. In doing all of that, I would also inadvertently be avoiding the thought of drinking alcohol, because I seem to really enjoy getting intoxicated on alcohol just past the point where my partner is comfortable. The ‘compulsive’ aspect of my behavior is simply that I won’t restrict myself from it’s use entirely, but when I do allow myself to have it, I know there is a certain point within a certain level of intoxication where I will want to consume more than I set out to before I started drinking to begin with.
Candy would argue this makes me “alcoholic”, and I could agree that this is a problem. At this same time, I am not physically dependent on alcohol because of several reasons. It is not my “drug of choice” to begin with. It is a drug that I turned to in an effort to use “addiction transfer” in a positive way to reduce the legal liability of using my real drug of choice, which is a plant, which is a true tragedy in and of itself considering that it is not physically addictive. I do not have a “craving” for alcohol when I do not have it in my possession, but when I do get it, I tend to get enough so that I will have two “doses”. The internal test once I have it is if I can stop myself when under it’s influence from digging into that second day’s worth, eliminating the second day’s total potential effect, and therefore, taking the second potential day of it’s use away from myself in the process of violating a rule I made for myself while sober.
I realize that this is very similar to the way that Candy gets chinese take out. She would typically buy enough to have two day’s worth. The problem is, she would actually consider having two huge servings on the first day, and maybe just a little left over for a second day. Candy can’t get the same “rush” on a subsequent day because she will always consume more than half on the first day. While she makes the accusatory assumption that I am just “an alcoholic”, she is engaging in the very same behavior, and over time, this behavior would contribute to her potential immobility, and shortened mortality.
When considering “addiction transfer”, and my own ability to guide my compulsive behaviors into activities that could be more constructive, positive, and beneficial for my own future, I have to consider that my addiction transfer “technique” is voluntary. When I consider just how many things I have turned to in order to satisfy some compulsive behavior to do something “too much”, I realize that there is no one substance or activity that could “be enough” to ever really solve the appetite of the compulsive mind. The simple realization of this helps me to guide that energy towards areas of my life that need improvement, and obviously self discovery.
In a way, I realize that my recent use of the phrase “automatic addiction transfer” seemed to switch on a light, and give me ideas about how “rehab tech” has remained the same forever without having to evolve for the changing marketplace of “brand new addictions” coming along left and right. Abstinence is the only conclusion by a rehab society in a phase of our history where obesity is the new “moral panic” for whatever reason, and the media creates more and more obesity hysteria as they cash in on advertising products meant to “help”. All the while they ignore one inconvenient pathological factor to obesity, ad 36. The “fat virus” that you never hear about on the news as you hear people rant about obesity on a daily or weekly basis. That is another post entirely, but it kind of fits in, as I am already tempted to wrap this up, but realize it is way too in depth to cover “right now”.
I am lucky that I was able to fight any form of compulsive eating behavior from an early age. I was “chubby” when I was a kid, but I started working from the month that I turned old enough to work, and that amount of activity and a few small changes helped me to reach what would be considered an “average” weight. There were several motivating factors for this, the very first would be “girls”. Because I realized at an early age I was attracted to women who are “larger” to say the least, I felt that I should make myself as physically appealing as possible in order to increase my probability of successfully meeting and of course fucking some really big fat chicks in my life.
Until I reached a certain emotional plateau, I didn’t realize that my super fat sexual conquests were actually compulsive behavior as well. Even through three marriages, I never met someone that I could really place a deep emotional attachment on until I was in my 30’s. Once that emotional attachment took place, I could voluntarily become monogamous even though I had the option to remain in an “open relationship” like some old creepy “swingers”.
I just didn’t want it anymore. I didn’t enjoy searching for, flirting with, seducing, fucking, and filming other women anymore. Once there was a real emotional connection to someone I had never felt, everything changed. I would still be afflicted with other compulsive behaviors, but screwing any big giant fat woman who let me would no longer be one of them. I believe that was a form of “automatic addiction transfer”, because I went from one compulsion to fuck all kinds of fat women and film it all to put on my website, to a much darker, much more difficult, and much more emotionally tedious and impossible task of really pleasing just one woman.
When I came up with the idea of “Forced Addiction Transfer”, or FAT, it was out of frustration and the great sense of pain I feel when I realize that people who modify their otherwise healthy, working, cancer free internal organs in order to change just one compulsive behavior are being used as test subjects in order to embrace forced addiction transfer as a viable way of extracting money from obese people. Notice I did not say “as a viable way of curing obesity”, because the cure for all obesity is in the head, not in the gut. People who dig in our heads are very expensive though, and they take a long, long time. Bariatric surgery is so much cheaper in the long run, yet it obviously has greater profit potential up front. Surgery is to make money, not to cure obesity.
Surgery creates what I believe is an inhumane psychological condition of forced addition transfer, or FAT. This is why it is so well documented that many post surgicals become alcoholics, or drug users. Without addressing the underlying causes of compulsive behavior, it appears to me, an uneducated “sexual dimorphist”, that initiating forced addiction transfer through any surgery that restricts natural ability to “eat” is simply piling on. This creates an even more intense need to fulfill the compulsive behavior through another avenue. The choice will probably be made early, in the first few weeks of adapting to having a compulsive behavior that cannot be fulfilled without greater pain, misery, suffering, complications, and maybe even death.
This is why in my opinion, any surgery to address compulsive behavior is going to have horrible long term effects. These effects will not simply be felt by the ones who have had the surgery alone. The singular decision to have surgery will effect everyone connected to the individual, because all acquaintances will be forced to adapt along with the individual to this cruel experimental rehab technique. We live in a rehab society that survives through it’s consistent message of abstinence. By selling people surgery as a “cure”, we are telling them that they are beyond all hope of psychological help in addressing their underlying compulsive behaviors. Because they are both the perpetrator and the victim, they must be punished, even if it means executing the cruelest possible punishment on one’s self.
If the entire rehab model works on abstinence, it is particularly cruel from my perspective to encourage people to become “surgical anorexics”. While I watch media, I pay particular attention to those who attempt to discourage anorexia with a straight face. If we live in an abstinence based rehab model society, then we must encourage the super morbidly obese to become anorexic to “fix them”, even if it means forcing them to become anorexic through surgery. I don’t know about “most people”, but I think all of this is sick. I have to hope that my own obesity bias doesn’t contribute to a feeling that I was more right than I ever wanted to be when I saw this strategy as “shrink’em or kill’em”.
I have been typing the words “obesity conspiracy” a few times on face book here and there as well. While that is a topic that could not possibly be covered in just one post, I would like to associate this one issue with that larger “system”. While it is easy to dismiss anyone who hypothesizes the existence of any alleged conspiracy as a complete nut bag, there is so much data to suggest that “something is going on behind the scenes”, that it is almost impossible to ignore. It goes a lot deeper than medical device manufacturers that made a whole lot of quick cash and now want to sell the obesity division because the profits are down after this “low mortality rate” surgery started killing people one after another in Los Angeles a few years back. I’m sure they would not mind dumping the division before all the class action suits come in as well. After a few more years passes, they will.
Forced Addiction Transfer theory is very real, and it started from the minute some surgeon figured out that he could cut out some guts, make some cash, and the “patient” or “test subject” would lose weight. For as long as this type of human vivisection has existed, studies to figure out what happens up to five years after having surgery were only just recently released. The results were not quite as “cure” as the medical community wanted, and that is why you have seen the effort to sell surgery toned down considerably. It still exists, but now it is limited to those who can “pay up front” and those who are not paying at all. The ones who are not paying at all have much higher rates of complications and death, because this is just the excuse a doctor needs to eliminate one more social security recipient. Sad, crazy sounding, and hopefully for all of us, Not true at all…