Like there was any doubt…

It was bound to happen sooner or later… and finally, thank heavens… I’m at a place where I can hate him out loud.

You’re welcome…. pour yourself a drink first- some of this isn’t going to be easy to read.

Oh Thomas.

Perhaps you should buy the domain name… ya know… since you like to mimic other people.

I put my judgement aside for my heart, something I don’t regret because I know eventually it will result in my happily ever after. I bought new panties and flew across the globe with nothing but faith in my pockets. I lost a lot in this disaster, but I’ll never let you steal the hope you encouraged me to have. <eyeroll>

I let you know my flight was an hour late. You said you couldn’t wait to see me…. and I land… and ??? Bad form, dude… seriously. Even my 25 year old boy toy was always on time. Perhaps that’s a side effect of dating an older man? You need your beauty sleep? Clearly you’ve missed a lot of it.

I have dated disasters, rich boys, poor boys, hot boys, weirdos… hoarders and faithful gentleman. Nothing holds a candle to my four days with you, and that’s saying something. FYI… that’s not a compliment. Fucking you made me miss the Vagina Hoarder.

For all your criticisms and demands for perfection, you fall very short. You don’t qualify for a six foot anything, blonde or otherwise- and I’d love the number of one girl you’ve dated in her twenties. Oh and your wife’s number too so I can warn her you’re having unprotected sex.

The funniest detail that only a select few know? lol… I went to lunch with my girlfriends a month before I left to see you, and got tipsy on Cuervo Gold margaritas, and asked if you were married. It was a tipsy hunch, and they’re usually right. You FLIPPED out, and told me if I didn’t send you the headers from the email that told me you were, you’d never speak to me again. I was simply curious, looking for a little reassurance- and didn’t see your overreaction coming. I opened up my blog and sent you the headers from some “Penis Enlargement” spam comment that had come in… thinking that’d be the end of it. You emailed me and told me “SHE” was a fat brunette that lived near your ex. The mythical Cylie… if she even exists. It was the first very real, very red, flag. You brought her up while we were together and I changed the subject. I did my best to help you keep your red flags in your very full closet, but even I can’t hide THAT many women.

I should have known. I should have guessed… and it’s on me for being delusional. You wrote about me and exploited every single weakness I have in a few hundred words. You’re the original snake oil salesman, and you continue to manipulate me with my poor tattered heart. Fuck you. Fuck your bullshit words, fuck your lies and fuck your old ass attempts to be more than you are. You are as tragic as I am gullible.

I may be 20 pounds overweight, but Sugar you’re a con-artist and I can go on a diet.

I quit smoking for you, ya asshole. That was the longest four days of my life, especially given the stress level of babysitting an old man who acts like a spoiled frat boy with a few drinks. Honey, learn to handle your liquor or find yourself an AA meeting. ASAP.

Your racist bullshit views made me choke back the vomit they required. You wont waste another moment in my life, but you’ll serve as an example, forever.

Thou shalt not sell out for a ticket to paradise when you’re sick of the snow.

Thou shalt not date someone 15 years older than you’re used to, unless he rises to the occasion and is worth the sacrifice…. <cough>… keep talking about Anna Faris’s abs… it’s as close as you’ll ever get to them.

Your big daddy plan? To cut off your baby girl when she turns 18 because all she loves you for is the check you put in the mail? That’s just pathetic. You’re an idiot for not giving a shit and she’s a smart girl for knowing what you’re good for. PS… I have her Facebook page bookmarked- just in case you ever think twice about fucking with me. Tip of the iceberg, my dear… and you’re a fool for not paying attention to what happens to boys who shake the hive. There aren’t bees tattooed on me by accident, and you know what a nasty little insect I can be when inspired.

It’s sort of sad to have to tell a man what he falls so short in, but then I sort of appoint myself to do so when it’s necessary.

It’s incredibly bad form to walk in front of a woman. Seriously. I can hear my grandfather rolling over in his grave. Your whole fixation on Mormon girls is not going to ever play out because you are so not good enough for us. We’re raised to believe we’re women, ladies…and absolutely the greatest treasure, worth protecting and guarding. In all of Doucheville, you’re the first douche to walk with your back to me while other men smiled appreciatively. Oish.

Watching the people around us laugh at you and roll their eyes at me was the real moment that resonates. Watching you hit on a woman willing to buy her way out of your reach was priceless. I’m reminded <yet again> of my favorite quote.

Regardless of desire, life hands you who you are.

I don’t care how much money you make. I don’t care what you do for a living. I don’t care about you. I went with an open heart and the best of intentions and came home in a wheel chair. Suffice it to say, if you ever come to Idaho, you’d be really lucky to leave in the same condition.

Juggling bloggers, recycling words and capitalizing on the suffering of the women who are open enough to share it… aren’t you a prize. Does it make you feel better about your sad little life to create a fantasy for someone to fall prey to? I think so.

You made one fatal mistake. You ignored one detail that was staring you in the face the whole time you were calculating how to manipulate me.

I’m deadly when underestimated. There aren’t skeletons in my closet, there’s a case of body bags…. and when you fuck with me, you fuck with the whole trailer park. We may not be millionaires, but baby we’re real- and all the money in the world can’t buy you legitimacy. Notice who didn’t have to delete their blog…

Obsessive showers, cologne I didn’t like and watching people do a double take when they saw me sitting with you… yeah… no thanks. I don’t mind being a trophy… but only if I’m dating a thoroughbred.

The cost of shipping your shit back express mail? $60.

The drug test to determine whether you drugged me or left me vulnerable while you hit on other women on our LAST night together? $120

$300 for a weekend in Puerto Rico in February? Priceless.

I hope your wife wonders where you went and with whom. I hope she figures it out and I hope she kicks you out of the “compound” SHE owns. Google is a powerful creature, Liarpants2. Yeah… you get a pants name but yours is recycled, just like your words. You’re Nathan, part 2.

Realistically…It’ll be a cold day before I fuck Mr. Smithers for sunshine again…. and PS… I faked it.

xoxo J

32 thoughts on “Like there was any doubt…

  1. sweetcayenne

    He’s married…? Even I didn’t see that one coming. Honey, those bruises (both visible and not) might not have felt like it, but you still dodged one hell of a bullet.

    I am staring at the computer screen, mouth agape. Oh. My. He can break your heart, steal your memories, but never, never take your dignity.

    Proud of you… ๐Ÿ™‚

  2. sweetcayenne

    Oh, and warn people at the top that they might spit that drink out…no need to waste good alcohol! ๐Ÿ™‚

  3. Wow. Wow. Wow. That’s all I have to say. The writing was always on the wall. Sometimes you’re just blinded and it’s impossible to see. This post is well deserved. That’s all I have to say! Glad you’re doing better!!

    • I’m just mortified. I honestly thought he was a wonderful man. I trusted him, believed in him and loved him so so much… it really was magic when it was good. But meanwhile his wife was at home gardening in the garden he tempted me with? It’s just sick and wrong.

      If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll leave me the hell alone.

      • So the million dollar question is: have you contacted the wife to tell her? If it was me, I’d want to know…… I’d have a really hard time believing she didn’t know something was up, but it sure explains his shower compulsion.

      • More threats this morning… ugh. I don’t know what I’d say to her- and I’m sure he’s blocked my number by now- things are disappearing left and right that were all over the internet a little bit ago.

        And I quote:
        “Whatever Jenni, C’s mom is remarried idiot. Fuck off and leave me alone. You trash every man who dates you. I’m done with you. Continue and I’ll finish the charges in PR. Let me know if you want the number to the police report. Leave me alone. I’m taking everything you’re saying about me later today and producing it. Have your atty call me if you want the report.”

  4. I knew it! My “married” spidey sense was tingling as soon as he insisted that he wanted to meet away from his home, ostensibly so that his “entourage won’t bother us all weekend.” Seriously? When I worked in the music industry, I knew lots of famous and wealthy people and never once heard anyone acknowledge their own entourage! Lol. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Any word on the claim of having a law degree, E.T.? He never used that one on me (probably because I actually do have one), but I know he did on others…. I figure that has to be a fake too.

    But, to be honest, the “I’m building a chateau in France” line will always be my personal favorite. Too funny for words….

    I said to Jenni recently that I think his blog was an attempt to inhabit the lives of the wealthy men he buys and sells boats to…. Maybe he should just try regional theater…. Or — better yet! — I’m sure the local dinner theater could use an extra “actor.” ๐Ÿ˜€

    • Jenni

      Yeah I never heard about the chateau in France, I got the same entourage line, oh and “I don’t want to have to share a moment of my time with you” Oh and!!! My favorite line?

      “All of my friends hate you because you make me go home early. They miss Tommy and my loving you makes me want to hold that sacred”

      Trust me, I met Tommy- and Tommy is your garden variety jackass- someone that nobody would miss.

      He went “sailing” every weekend so I only heard from him during the week. I’d get sweet text messages on Sunday occasionally with a picture of the ocean from his “boat” saying “You should be here with me now, I love you”

      He wanted his privacy from his “stalker” and got mad at me when I blogged about how much I adored him. Nevermind I woke up and fell asleep to him EVERY day. Men who really value you, scream it from the roof tops. They mark their territory, and if he’s not? He’s not that into you. I know this, and I ignored it. Ugh.

      I win the idiot prize… I actually believed him…. enough to fly 4000 miles. Jeez.

  5. Ahhhh, Jenni…. When I read this post, I felt a smile stretch across my face and a weight lift from my heart. Not because I like to hear your pain converted to anger, but because that conversion means that you’re healing. ๐Ÿ™‚

    I am truly sorry you had to go through all of this with him. I am sorry that he wasn’t the prince he sold himself to be. I still wish that those of us who knew better could have spared you this. The irony is that, of course, he led me to you and we even argued briefly about you. In a very real sense, you saved me from him because it was that argument that knocked me back to reality. I only wish I could have done the same for you.

    But I am glad of a few things that came out of this. I am glad that you got to remember how glorious you are when you’re in love. The fact that he didn’t deserve that love doesn’t diminish how wonderful it felt to you or how amazing it will feel to the guy who does deserve it. I am glad that it all exploded in such a way that you are left without any “maybes” or “what ifs”… that could torture you endlessly and still lead to the same ultimate conclusion about him. I am glad that you are finally throwing the truth at him. He always admired your willingness to throw hammers without hesitation… I wonder how he feels now that those hammers are justifiably being pitched at his own head. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Oh, and I stand by my word: if he continues to threaten you, please let me know. I don’t relish undressing anyone publicly, but in this case, I believe he’s simply reaping what he’s sowed.

  6. E.T., I have insomnia and so have been poking around. Wow. His wife was gardening while Thomas was off romancing Jenni. Wow. (And seeing her call him “Mr. T” made me throw up a little bit in my mouth…)

    Seriously. Wow.

    The only upside of discovering all the nasty little details is the reassuring validation that my intuition was correct, and not the product of some gross mistrust of men or something.

    Oh, and Jenni, I’m pretty sure that Cylie was real and that they had a long-distance relationship for some period of time. Based on a closer read and broader interpretation of what he said to me in emails last spring, I think she found out he was married and called it all off. Which, of course, would appall him. The nerve of some women! ๐Ÿ˜‰

    • I’m angry. Really fucking angry at this point. Of all the pictures I’d love to send his wife, I have one that would land him in the hospital with a gun shot wound if he were my husband.

      He cried about my daughter not liking him. He asked to talk to her on the phone. He more than overstepped the boundaries of douchey Nathan. Only to follow up with “Sorry you made St. Thomas an unwelcome place for you and her”

      Excuse me while I go bathe in bleach.

    • Agreed, E.T.

      I think we have enough to contact the Puerto Rico PD, and I’m happy to handle the legalities of that. Jenni, we probably need to gather your evidence first.

      I think it’s pretty clear that he expected her to be docile and be his little sex slave for the night, but drugs affect everyone differently, and his luck ran out.

      My biggest fear is this: the hotel says he is a regular visitor and the behavior of the staff supports that. So, WHERE ARE THE OTHER WOMEN?? I am hoping that they are simply too embarrassed or ashamed to have gone to police or whatever. But what I’m afraid of is the missing persons list in Puerto Rico…. Honestly, it makes my blood run cold…. I think, at the very least, it it time to file a police report, Jenni, if you have the courage to keep pressing forward.

      • Not to be indelicate… but I was already his little sex slave- he didn’t need to drug me. That’s how I knew immediately that it had happened, because I only had a few drinks… I was looking forward to my last night with him- I didn’t want it to be a drunken shit show.

        His reaction is what makes it suspect- but it could have been the guy to my left- who tried to kiss me randomly, wtf??? If anything I think he saw it as an easy out to make me look bad, and he has been positively FURIOUS at me for the comments made on the posts I’ve written about him. I’d be so worried about him if the tables were turned, and any time I’ve said that he’s ignored it. He’s never explained why he wasn’t at the airport. He’s never explained what he remembers happening, because I don’t think he does. Neither of us had any recollection the next day. I’ve never done ecstasy, I’m a pretty innocent girl when it comes to all things drug related. I don’t even take Tylenol…. so I could see where having something chemical in my system, on top of a variety of different hard liquor, and after losing my dinner at the last bar we were at, could cause me to have a horrible experience.

        I wish I could say I think he drugged me, but I still really suspect the guy next to us.

    • He told me that they broke up just over a year ago- and that he saw her when he could and he made the effort to make it monthly but it wasn’t enough, and she gave him an ultimatum that he either marry her then and there or she was leaving him. He told her he wouldn’t marry her and he broke it off. He’s incredibly bitter about her, so I very much believe she exists. I think that makes me Cylie 2.0 … how humiliating, and how awful that I still miss those moments it was so good. He is really good at being the guy you always dreamed of.

      Until you add alcohol.

      I’ll always wonder what he thought was going to happen. It was perfect and as soon as I told him he was being a drunk asshole, he switched. I was my ever accommodating self, apologizing and smoothing things over. To think that he was lining me up to be his next long distance mistress is sickening. He told me he figured we’d see each other once a month after that weekend and he’d been applying for legal consulting jobs in Salt Lake so that he was only an hour flight away from me. He could come home on the weekends.

      I asked a lot. He said a lot. I checked it out but not to the extent I’ve learned to in the last week. I am so thankful I haven’t wasted a year of my life missing someone who was hiding a family. I can’t imagine the other girl’s regret over the whole thing because I feel horrible.

  7. Holy crap. And the hits just keep coming. I have I say I’m a bit surprised by the married thing. What a douche with a Capitol D preying on women when they’re vulnerable. He is something else. I tell you that. I was also invited to a weekend in PR.. Think God I’m too chicken shit to take a chance like that. I half ignored his emails because they just didn’t quite add up. I think he drugged you Jenni. I’ve thought that from the first post after you got back and instincts are usually right. He did it to get an easy way out. He could drug you and make you out to be some crazy whore (which you’re not!) and he could play the woe is me card and not lose all his precious vulnerable blog readers. Only his plan didn’t work out so he’s pissed. Ugh. The while situation is fucked up!! Sorry you had to go through that.

    • I wondered about you after I read the blog he wrote about you. I bristled at it and asked him WTF??? He said he just admired your hard work. I’d love to schedule a women’s trip for all of us, to stay at his “compound”. Imagine that moment, which is exactly what the douche bag deserves.

      What a bag of dicks.

  8. theswimmer

    As a Man, CAPITAL M, I found his blogging about mountaineering in New Zealand and comments about his sailboat laughable.
    I have been where he claimed to go climbing , a lot. I know all the guides and most of the locals. He claimed to be going climbing during winter when no one with a whit of common sense would go and I laughed as did my guide friends who said they never heard of the clown.
    As a world sailor since I sailed under the Golden Gate with my grandpa and father at age 9 his sailing observations were not worth commenting on…….
    I’ll be back at the lake this summer Jen with my Real sailboat and my Real wife and we would love to take you and the princess on a sail.

    Chin up Kid!

  9. Miss Fearless

    Grrrrrrr……………………………………. Enough said.. Well not really but I’ll keep it simple. I hope he reads this…
    Mr. Fucktard… You piece of shit, worthless drunk, douche bag of the century, cheater and women beater. If I ever get the chance I will make you pay. I hope your wife cuts off your penis. Maybe we should call it a magget. Yeah there we go. You are a piece of shit and if someone doesn’t cut it off I hope it rots off. Fuck you and stay out of her life or you will know the real reason I’m called Miss FEARLESS!! I will not hold back or hide. But you will, I promise. And unlike fucktard, douche bag mouth breathers like you I keep them. Tell Death Due you part, you might have lied and said that to your wife. Well I will part you in 18 pieces and they will never find you. I don’t care what your lying status is. I may be smaller and a female. But I’m bigger, Badder, and a shit ton scarier when it comes to the ones I love. Maybe you should do a little soul search and find out what love really means, and trust me it is not when you finish a bottle and decide you love everything because your to blind drunk to see straight. I will fuck you up NORTH IDAHO STYLE. And Bears, honey and nails are cheap as hell for thats all you are “cheap”.. Your a dime a dozen and we are dollars. FUCK around FUCK around, your train is late.I will eat you alive in front of your children and make you wish they were never born.. Now do my temper and my girl a favor and eat a bag of dicks, yes the whole bag and fuck off……………..

    • See? The WHOLE trailer park… and this one? This one wont hesitate to cut his balls off to fertilize the tomatoes he got so hot over me planting.

      Fucktard… yes ma’am- that describes him perfectly.

  10. Miss. Fearless

    LMAO.. Like I stated I have no issue introducing him to the back side of my bumper.. I would gladly but sadly break the news to his wife. I hate men like Mr. Fucktard. I eat them alive for fun and preserve my girls dignity. I have a no douche bag policy when it comes to my friends.. I love you Jenni and everything about you. Don’t sell yourself or your life short…

    • Bears, nails & honey… seriously the funniest thing I’ve read in a while. The reality of being someone targeted by a cheating, lying douche bag- sucks… and if I’ve learned anything from this miserable experience it’s that I have an incredible bunch of friends who wouldn’t hesitate to turn Mr. T into fertilizer if he came anywhere near me ever again, and that love is a lot safer when you look for it in your own backyard.

      Because my backyard is guarded by the finest bunch of people you’ll ever meet.

  11. Pingback: Ego – Another beautiful day in chaos

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