welcome to my weird world

I just finished watching The Night Listener. Sigh. I'd say that this movie, in a mashup with Notes On A Scandal, as directed by Hal Ashby, pretty much sums up my life these past couple of years. I was ripped off big-time by Janna St. James, perhaps for a shorter period of time than her Fogelberg quarry, but fucked more emotionally, since I had to deal with the death of "Jesse." At least with Dan Fogelberg she was somewhat tethered to reality, which is probably why she just made up the next dreamboat for big sucker me. She also got far more tangible goods out of me than the last lot. She's obviously honed her skills. She'll probably get a fuckin' car out of the next victim.

Blah. Vomit.

ani always writes what I think

life in the circus ain't easy
but the folks on the outside don't know
the tent goes up and the tent comes down
and all that they see is the show
and the ladies on the horses look so pretty
and the lions are lookin real mad
and some of the clowns are happy
and some of the clowns are sad

but underneath
there's another expression
that the makeup isn't making
life under the big top
it's about freedom
it's about faking
there's an art to the laughter
there's a science
and there's a lot of love and compliance

welcome to the freakshow
here we go...

we live to hear the slack-jawed gasping
we live under a halo of held breath
and when the children raise up a giant shield
of laughter, it's like they're fending off death
and we can make something bigger
than any one of us alone
and then the clowns will take off their makeup
and the people will go home

but life on the ouside ain't easy
no sequins, no elephants
no parading around
oh the circus comes
and the circus goes
and they're stuck in this fucking town

you need a lot of love and compliance

welcome to the freakshow
here we go

watch this space

Just thought I'd poke my head in here, say howdy to all those folks that are still sticking with this blog. The newspaper article about Janna St. James and her factitious disorder is forthcoming, I'd say within the next couple of weeks. Research and fact-checking is a bitch, or so I'm told.

If it's available online, I'll post a link. Otherwise, I'll figure out another way to distribute it to those who desire to read it, and to those who deserve to know.

Oh, and I'm doing well, by the way. Feel free to send me an e if you have any questions. I'll do my best to answer you.

the hits just keep on coming

Funny how someone who comments on my blog gets miffed when I then check theirs out, find something mean and just plain wrong about me vis-a-vis this situation, and comment on it. So miffed, in fact, that she won't allow me to comment at all anymore. So I guess I'll just respond here.

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Cari -

You "invited" me to your blog when you felt yourself entitled to comment on my own blog (which I don't recall inviting you to) nigh on two months ago.

I requested proof of "Jesse's" existence, as you know, when it was proven otherwise to me by research my friends and private investigators undertook. I also offered to have a neutral party deposed to say they'd seen "Jesse's" death certificate without revealing to me what "his" real name was, so your bullshit about me trying to weasel into this alleged family is just that - bullshit.

I can't figure out if you're Janna St. James, in collusion with Janna, or have just bought so deep into the fiction that you can't see the forest for the trees. I suspect the latter (but. don't. KNOW. for. sure.), and further, can't figure your motivation - is it that you're so painfully gullible or simply so egotistical that you can't believe you're wrong? Either way, you're clearly miffed that I didn't respond to your email platitudes, and you feel like lashing out at me for it. Whatevs. You wrote me an email that didn't prove jacksquat about who you are, more just gave you a forum to rattle on about your opinion, which I was already aware of. It didn't seem to warrant a reply.

Like I've said, it's been proven that Janna has told massive lies about herself, and whether or not she was "Jesse," the fact remains that nothing I was told by "Jesse," or any "friends" or "family" of "Jesse" was true in the least. So spare me your sympathy for the hurt of alleged people who made it their life's work to fuck with my head for nearly two years. And please limit your psychoanalysis to those poor souls deluded enough to pay you for their services because they think you're qualified to help them.


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Now, back to our previously scheduled programming.