okay, folks

There's really nothing much to report at the moment, I'll post a link to the newspaper article when it's published.

For now, why don't you read up a bit on Munchausen's by Internet?

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Article 4

A skeleton walks into a bar...

...says, "gimme a beer and a mop."

busy day

This is it for me, at least until I come up with more proof that I feel like sharing with the world. Readers should check out Janna St. James's blog [ed. note - I removed the link, I won't be party to that, all she wants is attention attention attention], she's still pretending she's the victim. She may be feeling victimized, but for all the crap she's pulled, she's got a long way before she gets to have victim status awarded to her. If ever.

For those Fogelberg fans who were victims of Janna's perfidy, I feel for every single one of you. I don't know how long she strung you along, she hooked me for close to two years. She's good at what she does as long as she's got believers, not so good at covering her tracks when she doesn't. One might say that, like the Ted Bundy she never interviewed, she left little clues because she wanted to get caught. I'm getting lots of questions answered now, but I'm still planning on hitting Aspen (and points south, it appears) to find out more. Time to take a road trip.

Till then, read Janna's blog, if she dares post any further. And she appears to have opened up her comments again, so why not tell her what you think? I did. And just in case she deletes it, here ya go, my response to her "poor victimized me" whining:

Hmmm, are you saying you're not a lying sack of shit?

Still?

Always playing the victim, eh, Janna? God forbid your life ever becomes a vibrant color, because in your life, even beige is evil. Imagine what could happen if you introduce some red.

Why are you frightened? Because people you fucked over are angry with you? Because your lies are all being turned over, inspected, and revealed, one by one? Because your previous fuck-over-ees are coming out of the woodwork and helping me fit pieces of your screwed-up puzzle?

Maybe you should've thought about that before you started your destructive charade.

No kidding you love to write. You wrote thousands of emails in the year you were "Jesse" and all his satellites. When I talked to the fella at the Denver AP office, I told him that although you'd never been employed by them, they might want to think about hiring you, if they need any fiction writing.

And for the record, I don't give a rat's ass if you're alive. I don't want to see you dead, you ridiculous drama queen. I just don't want you fucking up anyone else's life again, ever, and if that means taking an ad out in the Batavia Sun so that your community knows what you are, I can do that.

I'd still prefer an admission of guilt from you, along with proof that you're getting professional help. Failing that, I can promise you I have people working toward making sure that everyone you know, knows who and what you are.

Please note, I'm not anonymous. I don't need to hide behind fake identities to tell you what I think.

a couple more faux-tos

"Jesse" sent me all these photos way back in July 2005. Anyone help me out some?

Here's a photo of the alleged AP office, although what Jesse's llama was doing in Denver, I don't know. The women are, from left to right, Jesse's alleged ex-girlfriend Jennifer, his alleged sister Alice Aloha Toklas James Jameson Kuippfer, and the alleged wife of his doctor friend Bean. I believe the llama's name is Lightfoot. Allegedly.

This is Jesse's alleged ex-wife Krista Andersson James Jameson Blaine.

Now for some photos of Jesse's alleged house.

The alleged desk Jesse wrote all his alleged AP articles at. He liked using a typewriter.

Jesse's alleged music room. Apparently he was standing on top of the piano when he took this photo. The vinyl allegedly belonged to his brother Starshine Saffron James Jameson.

This is Jesse's alleged living room. It's got a greenhouse with a waterfall also. Allegedly.

Here's the llamas in the alleged barn.

Here's the alleged view from Jesse's alleged bed.

Here's Jesse's alleged kitchen.

Here's the view up to Jesse's alleged bedroom and the alleged library.

Cute, isn't it?

Awwwwww, Janna, I'm just funnin' with ya. I know it's Dan Fogelberg's house. Or do you think I somehow managed to retroactively collude with Christie's Great Estates to dress up his house to look like Jesse's? Not Jesse's house, because there never was a Jesse. All you. All your photos, because hello, what would Jesse be doing with photos of Dan Fogelberg's house down in Pagosa Springs, which, strangely enough, is where you lived for a time. What's your issue with Dan Fogelberg, Janna? Did you get to go home with him once back in the 70s, and you brought your little Kodak instamatic to document the event? Did he fuck you and forget you? Or did he reject your advances entirely? You always said mean things about him to me, so I'm inclined to think that you were spurned somehow. Maybe he found out you were lying about him to others, since that seems to be your MO.

You really are a cunt, Janna St. James.

photos

...or should I say "faux-tos?"

Jesse's sister's alleged house and llama. Uh huh.

Jesse's alleged rapist Julia, with same alleged llama as above (but what do I know, all llamas llook allike to me). Uh huh.

Jesse's alleged friend Cakey. Uh huh.

Jesse, carrying his alleged son Rhys, going on a hike with his alleged friends and alleged grandfather Desmond in the middle. Uh huh.

Jesse Jubilee James, allegedly taken in May 2006 by Janna's daughter Jessica's friend Sarah, when they all took a Memorial Day trip to Beaver Island, MI, with Annie Martel (who, as you know, stated to me that she doesn't know a Janna St. James). Uh huh.

Confusing enough for you yet?

Hey, Janna, who's wearing all those pairs of movie merchandise panties I gave you, since Jesse and Amy are fictional and Annie doesn't know who you are? Or did you cut them up and sew them back together to make a pair that would fit you? Is your hubby wearing "Cakey's" jacket?

it's not just the feet that are clay...

I was thinking today, while I was driving, which is when I do my best thinking. I decided the reason Janna St. James is so vindictive, and so angry at my friends (and by extension, me) is because she was exposed, sure, but more because they suddenly made this beautiful story she concocted into an ugly one.

I'd use a best-case/worst-case analogy, but I'm hard-pressed to decide which one is best or worst in this case, since they all suck, at least for Janna St. James, and for me too, while I was on a bipolarcoaster with a complex man and subsequently grieving over his death. So let's just lay it out.

On the one hand, we have Jesse Jubilee James, or the guy I thought was called Jesse Jubilee James. Playing let's pretend again (after all, this is the land of fakey, so pretend is always comfortable here), if Jesse was real, he's been exposed as a lying shitheel who told not one ounce of truth to me or anyone else, so the George Washington-esque, noble, yogic, journalist-fireman-cowboy was nothing he claimed to be. And all his friends that talked to me were all in on the huge deception also. A conspiracy that fuckin' rivals the assassination of JFK. It ain't just the feet, this idol is clay from stem to stern. Soooooo, if that's the truth, it logically follows that Janna is a liar too, because she perpetuated the lies of a liar.

On the other hand, we have Janna St. James making all this crap up, which still makes her a lying sack of shit.

Funny how that works.

Either way, she's fer shure a lying sack of shit who watches too many soap operas (and Oprahs), and leads a life that leaves her unfulfilled, hence her fictions about Aspen and her life as a crack journalist/editor for the Associated Press, or wait, maybe not them. There was some smarmy snipe in her blog some time back about how AP wasn't the only news service out there, as though I inferred something that was not implied. But with Janna, obviously everything she and her Jannafestations spew forth are metaphors, just because she says she interviewed Ted Bundy for Associated Press and opened their Aspen office, what she really meant is that she interviewed Ed Gein for Reuters and opened their Fargo office. And when Jesse Jubilee James says his name is Jesse Jubilee James and his sister's name is Alice Aloha Toklas James Jameson Kuippfer, and his brother's name was, presumably, Starshine Saffron James Jameson, really they were Bob, Mae, and Jim Smith. Silly me for taking things at face value.

Still, because I know better, in this case, Occam's Razor is the way to go. There's no big conspiracy. A tiny one, all in Janna St. James's head, and as I've said before, quite badly written, but she didn't really have much time to hone it, not like the nearly-two years she had to string me along with hard-luck story after hard-luck story.

A sad but beautiful story of a starcrossed love was turned into a tawdry pulp fiction, but either way, it was one hunnert percent bullshit.

Fogelberg people? I have some photos I'd like to show you, just in case they ring any bells.

And by the way, Janna, Reuters don't have an Aspen office either.

Janna St. James = lying sack of shit.

dang

So it turns out that Dan Fogelberg is still battling his cancer. I can't bring myself to throw Janna the emotional cancer at him too, so looks like she's off the hook, Fogelberg-wise, for now. I don't abuse my contacts.

I'd be curious, though, if there are any people out there in Fogelberg-land who've stumbled upon this site, I'd like to hear your stories, compare notes, as it were. I of course understand anyone's reluctance to dredge up old shit, who knows how I'll feel about this several years hence. My contact info is in my profile, or feel free to leave a comment here, if you'd rather go about it that way.

Janna St. James has worn out her welcome with me. I've jettisoned any possible sympathy I might have had for her due to her persistence in continuing the charade of Jesse Jubilee James and his fake friends and family. Had it up to here.

checking in

Just in case anyone's still keeping track, there's been no response from anyone in the "Jesse" camp about furnishing evidence to my suggested impartial third party that there ever was a "Jesse."

And that's the thing that made me suspicious of her, that made me want to do my own research. The fact that a normal person wouldn't react the way Janna has -- if, say, her friends confronted me and asked me for proof that someone I knew existed, even if I couldn't answer their specific questions, I would protest, or offer an alternative avenue of proof, most likely by calling someone else known to be associated with them. I would have behaved reasonably. Unless, of course, I'd been lying about the person her friends confronted me about. Then, I guess I would have barraged her with the same kind of virulence I've gotten from her since she was confronted by my friends.

Of course, it was the real Annie Martel who sealed the deal for me, telephoning me in response to a letter I overnighted her asking her a few simple questions (I don't trust the internet no more). Nope, she knows no Janna St. James. Nope, has never heard of me, certainly never communicated with me via email. Information that she's not bound by doctor/patient privilege to keep from me. Of course, this privilege, even if it were all true, would have been moot at this point anyway, because she'd already discussed "Jesse" and his friends and family at length with me in a series of emails after his "death." But, no conversations with me, at least not from the real Annie Martel, who now knows that Janna or possibly an accomplice has been impersonating her on the internet. And while the laws may be on the fuzzy side for impersonating people who don't exist, it's pretty goddamned clear on impersonating people who do exist. It's fucking illegal.

So, once again, I have to stress to those out there who believe otherwise, through Janna's prevarications, to do their own research. I do think the next time my friend Val goes to Boulder to visit her (journalist) sister, I'll meet up with her there so we can take a little drive down to the lovely town of Aspen and its environs, see what kind of responses we get from the old-timers to the packet of photos we'll bring with us. Possibly no response at all, since I don't really know where Janna lived with her first husband, and maybe she was serious about getting the rest of the pictures off of Google Images.

Hey, I wonder what Dan Fogelberg would have to say about all of this? Hmmmm. Sometimes having a couple of contacts in the music business really does come in handy.

amazing...

...how the influx of vicious comments full of nonsensical allegations have ceased entirely since I've disabled the "anonymous" comment feature.

It's hard out there for an internet freak, eh, Janna Saint James?

and another thing

So I've figured out that Janna St. James was motivated in part by greed, I mean, who doesn't like getting gifts, right? Especially when the gifts are hundred-dollar notebooks with skulls on them, or shiny pink barbecues, or Coach bags, or pretty glowy LED purses purchased at considerable expense from Italy. And also when the gifts are things like attention, pretty easy when you're upward of a dozen personas.

I think she spent a long time staking out the Deadwood message board before she made her presence known. I think she saw I was a soft touch after I got ripped off by a boardie, and homed in on me, hoping she too could get her mitts on some material goods from me.

I think part of her was also motivated by some sort of sick lust also. She's spent so much bandwith denying her lesbian tendencies, when not one person brought that up, that I have to assume that she's a little oversensitive about this. As a wise grownup said to me when I was a mere child, a fox smells its own hole.

And about that I say, once again, eeeeeeeeeeew.

Yeah, so I said I was done with this blog, but obviously going through all the documentation and writing an outline of the whole sordid escapade has clarified some things for me. Not to mention packing up the many hundreds of dollars of stuff purchased for "Rhys" that I'd been holding on to for almost a year, which is now going to be dropped off at Goodwill this week, along with the special medical sliding shower bench I bought specially for Janna's visit in February, so she could get in and out of the tub.

The dollars keep adding up, as do the affronts. Janna is a grotesque, not because of the size of her ass (another thing she claims she has no problems with but clearly does), but because of how fugly she is on the inside.