New York City

How a Crazy Cat Lady Took On The Proud Boys

Date: March 23, 2020

Author: julietjeske

Categories: Far Right, Freedom of Speech, LGTB Community, New York City, Politics, RESIST, Uncategorized

Update 8-10-20

Disclaimer – An individual who shall remain unnamed is claiming this article is about some sort of plot against him. He is not hinted at or inferred anywhere in this document. I do not use an alias for him. My story is my story. Everything in this account can be backed up with paperwork and multiple corroborating witnesses most of whom are named. There is no implied or hidden story.

For the past three and half years I’ve secretly worked as a researcher of the far right. The story I’m about to tell is bonkers. It involves an aging hipster, a hate group, an ambush by the NY Daily News, a phone call to the FBI, a surprise visit by the NYPD anti-terrorist task force, a bomb threat, homemade raw cat food and burlesque performers.

Before I get into it, I feel I need to introduce myself to any readers who might not already know me. I’m a 47-year-old divorcee in Brooklyn who lives with three cats. I’ve worked as a face and body painter for the past 19 years. I won’t waste too much time with my personal history except to say that up until 2013 I used to work as an emcee/producer in the burlesque scene in New York City. You can probably still find photos of me online in various costumes screaming or singing at strangers. I only mention my past with burlesque because it directly lead me into becoming a researcher of a far right hate group.

I’m not exactly sure when this whole endeavor started but sometime before the last presidential election in 2016 a few friends asked for a favor. They were still actively working as burlesque/nightlife performers in various clubs in New York City. They sometimes worked with a woman who was making them extremely uncomfortable. For legal reasons I’m going to call this woman Portia. She’s not the focus of this story but because she’s made several false accusations about me in the press and on social media I’m going to avoid using her legal or stage name. This story is long and involved so I’m going to use a bit of a timeline throughout to help frame the events.

Fall 2016

My friends sought my help because they knew I worked with video. At this point Portia had made a few appearances on the The Gavin McInnes Show (TGMS). TGMS was one of many shows on the subscription based streaming platform, Compound Media, founded by disgraced shock jock Anthony Cumia. The burlesque performers wanted me to capture every time Portia appeared on TGMS and give them the footage. One of them was already paying for a subscription but she had no experience working with video. They wanted to show producers proof that Portia was espousing what they thought were anti-LGBTQ and racist views. They didn’t feel safe performing with her. They were also concerned that a fan of TGMS might show up and cause trouble for a number of LGBTQ performers who worked with them. McInnes did not hide his contempt for trans women, even going so far as to call them “mentally ill gays” and even wrote an article claiming that transphobia was perfectly natural.

I’d never really captured video off of a computer screen before and I didn’t want to spend any money on expensive software. I used my old camcorder and a laptop to capture episodes of TGMS featuring Portia. I would just line up the camera and crop the screen as best as I could. The trickiest part was keeping my cats from meowing too much or walking through the shot. This was more difficult than you can imagine some days.

Almost immediately I switched my focus from Portia to McInnes. Portia gave me exactly what my friends wanted. She would insult them, trash the nightclub and burlesque scene while occasionally saying something embarrassing, hateful or racist. The other performers were happy with what I was giving them but Portia didn’t really interest me. I had stopped working in burlesque around 2013 and had no personal history with her.

I admit I’d never heard of McInnes before I watched the first episode of his show on Compound Media. McInnes was a founder of Vice Media who severed his ties with the company in 2008 due to creative differences. His departure included a large multi-million dollar settlement. His rhetoric was the same old tired aggrieved white male schtick mixed with racism, misogyny, xenophobia, and general bigotry. McInnes wasn’t unique in his vitriol. I could easily find a few dozen angry white men on various platforms spewing the same kind of hate. What set McInnes apart were two things — a fraternal group of men he’d founded called The Proud Boys, and McInnes’s repeated statements glorifying and encouraging the use of violence for political means.

The Proud Boys were supposed to be about celebrating masculinity and Western civilization. Members could be any ethnicity or sexual orientation although most of them featured on TGMS were straight and white. Proud Boys were initiated into the group via a mild hazing and prohibited from masturbating. Soon after he founded the group, McInnes claimed to have at least 10,000 members with chapters worldwide. His appearance on The Joe Rogan Experience helped promote the group.

I contacted a local antifa group in New York City since they had already run a story about Portia along with other local far right figures. I let them know what I was doing and asked if they wanted any specific footage. They told me immediately they wanted whatever I could find of McInnes inciting violence. I sent them my first clip, one of McInnes saying.

Episode 006 – McInnes – “Five men in this room have violated some stupid fucking law, and we can get thrown in jail tomorrow. So instead of hiding and hoping we don’t get caught we have to go, these laws are insane, get a fucking gun.”

They thanked me but didn’t really do much with it. I knew I could find more quotes so I kept hunting. When I started this project McInnes had already made a couple hundred episodes and was making about four new episodes a week. I realized I would never be able to catch up and capture/edit all of them. I figured the best way to get what I needed was to create a spreadsheet and edit episodes with high profile guests such as Richard Spencer, David Duke and Milo Yiannopoulos. I spent a day going through the entire catalog of existing episodes on the Compound site and wrote down as much as I could find. Then I went to work. I’d capture the episodes on my camera, then download and edit them on my desktop. To speed things up a bit I would watch and edit most episodes at 125% speed.

Within a couple of months I’d completely given up on working with antifa. We weren’t exactly a good fit. They didn’t seem to know what to do with the footage I gave them and they sometimes completely blew off my emails. I wasn’t about to sit through dozens of hours of toxic rants by McInnes for nothing.

I decided to seek out a reporter who might be interested. At this point I had about 10 minutes worth of clips of McInnes inciting violence. I created a transcript so I could easily cut and past quotes to show reporters exactly what I had. McInnes had mentioned a woman named Amanda Marcotte on multiple episodes. He claimed he was suing her over an article she’d written about him on Salon.com. I figured if anyone would want to see this footage it would be Marcotte. I discovered we were already friends on Facebook as I had added her a couple years prior after sending her some fan mail over an article she’d written. When Marcotte and I met she was floored by the sheer amount of clips I had gotten at that point. I had folders for every topic: black, Latino, Asian, Women, Muslims, LGBTQ and of course violence. Marcotte said she would talk to her editor and she what she could do.

McInnes has said repeatedly that the Proud Boys are not violent and did not promote white supremacy. The amount of times McInnes used the n-word and other racial slurs was staggering. He often went on long rants about how different ethnicities evolved over time. Here are a few clips that indicate the true nature of McInnes’s beliefs.

Episode 130 – McInnes – “I used to box at a gym called Church Street Boxing Gym here in New York. That had a huge motto, and it was on their t-shirts too. “Fighting solves everything”. We need more violence from the Trump people, Trump supporters, choke a motherfucker, choke a bitch, choke a tranny, get your fingers around the windpipe if they spit on you. That’s assault. Don’t fucking let anyone spit in your fucking face.”

Episode 322 – McInnes – “I was on Malsberg on Newsmax yesterday and he goes and I go it’s fun to punch these kids because they’ve never been punched before. So they fall on their ass and they look like Indiana Jones, I was watching Indiana Jones last night remember that bald dude when he’s trying to get into the Nazi plane and he keeps punching him, Indiana Jones, and the guy’s so huge Indiana Jones is like “bonk” on his ass after every punch and that’s what it’s like with them and Malsberg was like “You’re not advocating violence are you?” and I was like “I absolutely am. In fact I’m mad at you for not advocating it in the past. It’s a wonderful effective thing.”

Episode 104 – McInnes “I think there’s uh something that a lot of people are too scared to bring up when you talk about Western culture is white culture. And I keep it cultural and I’ve got plenty of black friends and I’m not gonna, but when I think of other cultures and other races in America the ones that thrive are the ones that tend to go white . . . so I think the west is made up of white people and people who recognize that the white system seems to be a pretty good system. It’s a very contentious subject but I think the sorta the sub-angle with this is that Western culture is on the demise and if we could unify it we might have a chance of it going like this (gestures down) to this (gestures up). Because you know whatever replaces the West is going to be worse.

Episode 267 – McInnes – “God started the microchip 3.5 billion years ago and he just sort of rolled it and he said if you’re a Dodo bird and you’re delicious you’re going to get eaten and you’re not going to last long. The other guys who experience winter they’re going to become really tough they are going to become Vikings they are going to take over the world and they are going to be my best people, (laughs) they are the chosen ones.”

Episode 145 – McInnes – “My favorite monkey has to be Barack Obama, he’s my favorite n*gger.”

Episode 059 – McInnes – “(Black people) They spent more times climbing trees or I don’t know what it is but genetically something is built up. (mimes climbing with his arms).”

Episode 230 – McInnes “If you’re with Leslie Jones and you see you’re guys the next day, and you’re like (said in Jamaican accent) why you going on with that big gorilla from SNL.”

After a month or so Marcotte let me know her editor didn’t want to go with the story for a number of different reasons but she referred me to other reporters who worked the same beat.

March 2017

At the same time around March of 2017 I anonymously sent a flash drive of what I had with a one page document to the FBI headquarters in New York City. From what I’ve read in the press the FBI was already investigating McInnes and the group at that point.

The Fourth Degree

I’m not sure exactly when I stumbled on the fourth degree as I was jumping around the catalog of episodes. On 11/28/16 Episode 253 McInnes announced a new level in the Proud Boys organization. A Proud Boy named Shawn Fitchner was declared the first “fourth degree” Proud Boy after he’d gotten arrested and then briefly jailed over a fight. The 1st, 2nd and 3rd degrees of Proud Boy membership were as follows:

1st degree – Stating the Proud Boys creed

2nd degree – Saying five breakfast cereals while being punched by other Proud Boys

3rd degree – Getting a tattoo of the words Proud Boys somewhere on their body.

4th degree – Get in a fight, get arrested for the cause (Exact wording changed over time)

Episode 253 – McInnes – “It’s being physically assaulted for the cause. Getting arrested, getting in a fight. Now the fight has to be an organized fight, not just getting in a fight. So it has to be some conflict that’s officiated. Now if you get arrested for something, that’s been officiated by the police so that counts. I’ll just make it two things, one an organized fight in a ring. Boom fourth degree. Two you got arrested for fucking around and it was Proud Boys related. That’s fourth degree, one of those two things”

As I progressed through the series I noticed McInnes ramping up his calls for violence. I was collecting quotes from nearly every episode. Then something happened that dramatically changed his tone.

Unite the Right Rally – The Death of Heather Heyer

On August 12th, 2017 in Charlottesville Virginia, James Alex Fields Jr. intentionally drove his car into a crowd of people injuring 28 and killing Heather Heyer. Fields previous espoused white supremacist and Neo Nazi beliefs. Although there is no evidence that Fields was connected in any way with the Proud Boys or their organization, a former Proud Boy, Jason Kessler was one of the organizers of the event. McInnes did not attend the event himself but some members of the Proud Boys did attend.

To quote the Southern Poverty Law Center

Their disavowals of bigotry are belied by their actions: rank-and-file Proud Boys and leaders regularly spout white nationalist memes and maintain affiliations with known extremists. They are known for anti-Muslim and misogynistic rhetoric. Proud Boys have appeared alongside other hate groups at extremist gatherings like the “Unite the Right” rally in Charlottesville. Indeed, former Proud Boys member Jason Kesslerhelped to organize the event, which brought together Klansmen, antisemites, Southern racists, and militias. Kessler was only “expelled” from the group after the violence and near-universal condemnation of the Charlottesville rally-goers.

After Unite the Right McInnes immediately pulled back on most of his violent rhetoric and disavowed Jason Kessler claiming he was never a Proud Boy to begin with. McInnes soon left Compound Media for a new job at CRTV, a network owned by Mark Levin a conservative lawyer, author and radio personality. The move appeared to be an attempt to rebrand. CRTV had more of a traditional conservative base including Christians who wouldn’t go for McInnes’s typical antics. I watched a couple of episodes of his new show Get Off My Lawn on CRTV and immediately lost interest as I could tell McInnes was essentially muzzled. I knew I wouldn’t get useful content so I didn’t bother capturing any of it.

Quotes from the footage I’d captured from TGMS were making their way into various articles. The real game changer came when Michael Edison Hayden, now of the Southern Poverty Law Center, introduced me to the satirists Vic Berger IV and Nathan Bernard.

At the time Berger worked for a Super Deluxe, a division of Turner Broadcasting. Berger was known for making trippy, surreal, satirical videos using found footage of various politicians and celebrities. Berger had already targeted McInnes for ridicule before I contacted him. His first short videos of McInnes made with my clips were meant to embarrass and mock McInnes more than anything else. McInnes made this job somewhat easy as he tended to do incredibly outrageous things on camera such as: inserting a butt plug up his own anus, whipping his penis out and humping green screens with porn stars projected on them.

May 2018

In May of 2018, after a couple of somewhat successful parody videos of McInnes, a member of the Proud Boys showed up at Vic Berger’s house as a means of intimidating him. Berger chased the man down and filed a police report. Berger’s response was to double down and make even more videos critical of McInnes using the footage I gave him.

Around this same time my name appeared in an article on the now defunct blog/website of Milo Yiannopoulos. In a long and rambling mess written by fellow Proud Boy, Pawl Bazile, I was accused of all sorts of nonsense regarding Portia. The article used the plural pronoun “they” throughout so I wasn’t really sure what I was being accused of by Portia or Bazile. The blog post didn’t show up in a news search for my name so I decided to ignore it completely. I got exactly three hostile comments on my social media from it.

About a week later I got a voicemail from a state trooper in Rhinebeck, NY telling me he was contacting me on behalf of Portia. This was utterly bizarre as I had never even been in Rhienbeck, NY and had no idea why he was even contacting me. I knew that Portia was from that area of NY state and a friend told me she thought Portia had a relative who was a retired state trooper. After two and half months of phone tag, the officer did not have voicemail, the entire ordeal was resolved in a phone call. The officer let me know the compliant was not a criminal matter. The accusation against me was that I had given private information about Portia to a local antifa group. The only information I’ve ever had regarding Portia was her media appearances on TGMS and elsewhere. The local antifa based group had already published an article featuring Portia before I’d even contacted them. Portia then went on various right wing media outlets where she made claims about suing me and having me arrested. Although she never called me out by name, it was obvious to me who she was talking about. I wasn’t following her at all at this point. The other burlesque performers sent me links to everything.

McInnes gets kicked off of Twitter

In August of 2018 about a week before the second Unite the Right rally in Washington DC, Twitter suspended the account of McInnes and all accounts associated with the Proud Boys. I suspect part of the reason for his suspension might have been the incident involving a Proud Boy showing up at Berger’s home. Twitter never gave an exact reason.

Things calmed down a bit until the night of October 12, 2018. McInnes was invited to speak at the Metropolitan Republican Club in the posh Upper East Side neighborhood in Manhattan. The club had been hit with vandalism and threats allegedly by antifa groups before the meeting. That night several different groups showed up to protest the event which ended with McInnes brandishing a plastic sword before he entered a car and drove away. Soon after a fight broke out and a group of protesters were beaten by members of the Proud Boys.

As soon as news broke about the fight I was flooded with requests for my footage. At this point I had currated and edited about an hour’s worth of clips about violence. I created a file sharing account and then contacted journalists who I was already working with such as Andy Campbell, Michael Edison Hayden, Christopher Mathias, Jared Holt, Amanda Marcotte and a slew of other reporters.

Within a couple of days Berger, using my clips, made a video that got roughly 2 million views on Twitter. Berger’s video was devastating. He captured what I had been seeing for years in a perfect 2 minute 20 second video. The Proud Boys and Gavin were summarily kicked off of Facebook and Instagram soon after. Within a week or so of the video dropping McInnes was fired from his show on the newly formed Blaze TV.

That week I decided to call the FBI and tell them what I had. Although I didn’t give the agent my name I did give her my phone number which would have lead them to me instantly. She told me to go ahead and drop my letter and the flash drive off at the FBI office in New York City. After working on cleaning up all of my files for hours I rushed to get to their headquarters where I was told that I couldn’t drop anything off in person. Due to security reasons they would only accept my submission via the USPS. I asked them what was the best way to hide my identity and the clerk told me to use their address as my return address.

I went home and mailed the padded envelope the next day along with one for the State’s Attorney. I included Jared Holt of Right Wing Watch as a potential contact if they needed any additional information. I then made a list of everyone else I thought should see this footage. I started with a brief list of government officials the Southern Poverty Law Center provided on their website. The governor and mayor were both begging the public for information. With the help of some of the burlesque performers I purchased flash drives in bulk from Amazon. I made a six minute montage of the worst clips for government officials and filled larger drives with everything I had for media outlets.

Over the course of a few days I sent out about 20 padded envelopes all addressed as the FBI had instructed. Each envelope was completely flat, weighed exactly 2 ounces and contained nothing but a flash drive and a piece of paper. I decided to send the video this way since I ran into so many problems when I tried to contact people via email or a website form. I was ignored by any number of reporters. I figured if I just sent them the flash drive, they could watch it if they wanted, and if they weren’t interested they could throw it away. I used the sender’s address as my return address. I mailed about half of them from my local post office using my debit card, and the other half from the main post office across from Madison Square Garden. I purposefully used a clerk instead of stamps or a self-service machine to avoid suspicion.

On the morning of October 24, 2018 I got an email from Amanda Marcotte. She knew I was sending things out to various officials and thought she spotted my envelope. She attached an image. My heart sank. There it was – a photo of the envelope I’d sent to the governor on some type of scale in a mail room. I had the unfortunate luck to send my packages out on the same day that a crazy Trump supporter sent out pipe bombs to various Democrat politicians and media outlets. The fact that my envelope contained a small piece of metal and had no return address was enough for authorities to panic and flag it. I immediately called the governor’s office. As soon as I could get an operator I said the following,

“I’m the person who sent that package that you think is a bomb. It’s harmless. Do you know that yet?”

The operator replied, “You need to speak with a police officer. Can you hold please?”

About ten minutes later I spoke to a State Trooper in charge of the case. At this point they’d opened the envelope and realized it was in fact harmless. After speaking with the officer for at least 20-30 minutes I thought my ordeal was over. Here’s what my package looked like.

This is what the pipe bombs looked like.

Notice the many differences. Mine included a label from an actual clerk in a Brooklyn post office. The information on the label would most likely trace back to my debit card if law enforcement really wanted to know where it came from. The pipe bombs were sent from Florida. I also hand wrote the address and my package was completely flat and weighed two ounces. I even wrote “Proud Boys” with an asterisk on the bottom of the envelope in the hope that someone might figure out it was a crime tip. I’m not sure why they thought anything that weighed only two ounces could be a bomb but apparently my innocent crime tip set off a reaction that lead to about 400 police officers storming the mail room and Manhattan offices of Governor Cuomo.

Meanwhile on Twitter people had traced my package back to the post office from where I sent it. My mind raced as I thought back to the ridiculous article on Milo’s website that had been published in May. I’m sure the author, Pawl Bazile, knew where I lived. They might actually figure out who sent the package. I contacted the reporters who posted the image but they couldn’t care less that they had documented a crime tip as a potential bomb.

That night it was time to make a fresh batch of cat food, an activity I do about once a month. To make the cat food I have to move everything off my counter onto my table, which makes a huge mess. I then have to take frozen chopped up chicken thighs, bones and all, and shove them through a grinder which makes a lot of noise and tends to splatter bone marrow in various directions. The whole process is arduous and disgusting.

At 9:00 PM that night after making the first batch of food I got a knock on my door. Again my heart sank. Maybe it was one of the Proud Boys who figured out that I was a source of information showing up to my home like they did to Vic Berger. I said,

“Could you idenitfy yourself please?”

“NYPD and State Police we just want to ask you a few questions.”

“Oh thank God it’s you.” I said as I quickly peeked open the door.

“I’ve got blood all over my hands. I was making cat food. Give me a second.”

I put the remaining frozen chicken back into the freezer, put my meat cleaver down, ripped off my gloves and let the cops in. My apartment looked about as bad as it ever looks so I apologized for the mess. I could also smell the distinctive stench of dead chicken throughout the entire place.

The cops walked in, realized it was a studio apartment and settled in. I was sitting while they stood. It was two state troopers and two NYPD officers all in plain clothes while an unknown number of plain clothed officers also waited outside in the hallway.

Then the questions started.

Have you dated any member of the Proud Boys? No
Are you a member of antifa? No
Why would you do this? Because I was seriously worried they were going to hurt someone.
What are you trying to get out of this? Nothing. I was just trying to help.
Why would you send this on the same day as a pipe bomb? Well if I had a crystal ball I would go back in time and send it on another day.

The state troopers were kind and openly made fun of Gavin. The NYPD members acted like I was insane. The main NYPD detective starred at various objects in my office area, an old mermaid parade costume of the statue of liberty with the words “RESIST” across the crown was of great interest.

The female state trooper seemed genuinely interested in the raw diet I fed my cats. My guess is she was there to keep me calm. After about 30-40 minutes I gave the officers a list of everywhere I’d sent an envelope and proved to them that I had absolutely nothing to hide. I got my first laugh line when I told them.

“I’m not a radical. I voted for Hillary Clinton. Do you want to see one of my campaign t-shirts?”

I thought it would be obvious when they saw three cats running around and two giant overstuffed bookshelves what kind of person I was — a nerd.

The next day – Thursday, October 25, 2018

I was coming home from a kid’s party I’d just worked for a regular client in the Upper West Side. I had on a blue velvet jacket trimmed in metallic brocade and a felt top hat, along with my shopping trolly covered in kid friendly patches. I saw an older white man in my lobby who was just sitting there with a notepad. I assumed it was another cop. I went to my mailbox got my mail and tried to avoid him.

“Ms Jesk” he mispronounced my last name. It’s a common mistake. People assume the e is silent. My last name is pronounced closer to Jes-key.

When I turned I saw his press badge (NY Daily News) around his neck and then I really panicked. Somehow having four cops in my apartment didn’t freak me out but being exposed as a source on this story sent me into an aboslute terror.

“How do you know my name? I sent you something anonymously. I do not want to be named. I don’t want to be the story. Why would you do this to a source? Please leave me alone. Give me your phone I want to talk to your boss.”

The reporter seemed stunned and obliged. I proceeded to chew out his boss. I was then hit up with the same series of questions all of which I answered as I had in the past with the cops. The one that really pissed me off was “Have you ever dated any of these men?” I understand why that might seem like an obvious question but it annoyed me off that they would think a woman couldn’t do something like this without some type of revenge motive.

Then he asked “Did you give this to the NY Post?”

I responded “No, why would I waste the postage on them?”

“Good.”

The reporter’s boss told me that they received my information through a source at the NYPD. My panic only got worse. I found out weeks later that they most likely got my information through a police scanner. They were making an educated guess based on the fact that both the NYPD anti-terrorism task force and state police showed up at my apartment the night before.

After going back and forth with the reporter on the phone and the one in my lobby I had a complete breakdown. I quoted to them from video I’d seen and captured the night before that Pawl Brazile had made on a Facebook Proud Boys group. (The entire group was kicked off of Facebook only a few days after this incident)

“We will find whomever sent this fake bomb to the governor and hang them from the highest tree, metaphorically of course.”

With that quote and my complete emotional break down the reporter decided to back off. I then said something to the effect of having Grandparents of German descent who couldn’t even speak of World War II without sobbing. I had always asked myself what would I do if I saw the rise of something so horrible in my lifetime. I was just trying to help. I didn’t want publicity. I didn’t make any money off of this entire ordeal, I’d spent money on it.

I’m not even sure what I said as I was a complete and utter mess. As I got off the phone I saw the reporter, a man probably in his late 50s. He was also crying. He said,

“I’m so sorry. We didn’t know. Thanks so much for trying to do the right thing. We need more Americans like you.”

I wiped my tears and got into the elevator and called a family member who assured me they couldn’t run a story like that without my consent. I guess I should have known something like this could have happened but I never would have thought in a million years that my tiny flash drive would get mistaken for a bomb or that a reporter would want to do a story about me. I found out later that the NYPD had gone around to all of the locations I’d sent envelopes and picked them up. The only two media companies who refused to give them up were the NY Daily News and Buzzfeed.

Saturday, October 29th 2018

I woke up late having been drained by the week’s events. I picked up my phone and continued to have another meltdown. My phone filled up with updates about a mass shooting. It was a synagogue in Pittsburgh. Eleven people were dead simply for being Jewish. The man was driven by deep hatred that had been stoked by others on the far right.

I couldn’t move and could barely breathe. Through studying McInnes I’d learned far more about any number of far right personalities and the toxic hate they promoted. McInnes had made a number of problematic statements about Jewish people including terrible jokes about the holocaust. McInnes tread a fine line he was usually not overtly anti-Semitic yet he’d had guests on his show like David Duke who had built a career on his hatred of Jews. Was this the start? Would there be more shootings?

November 21, 2018

McInnes posts a video on YouTube where he formally quits the Proud Boys. He claimed he was quitting the group on the basis that it might help the men who were charged in the fight outside the Metropolitan Republican Club. I wasn’t really sure how that would work as he’d have to go back in time and never form the group in the first place to really help these men. It seemed more like McInnes was trying to save himself more than anything.

August 1st, 2019

The trial for two of the men arrested and charged in the fight outside the Metropolitan Republican Club begins. A couple of weeks earlier I contacted the Assistant District Attorney handling the case, Joshua Steinglass. I was suprirsed that the operator gave me him directly and not a paralegal. At first he also thought I was a random nutjob until I described exactly what I’d sent the states attorney. For the next few weeks I agreed to capture and edit any comments McInnes or any of his guests made about the case and send them to Steinglass via his paralegal. I would find myself coming home after long catering gigs or special events and then watching McInnes on his new network. McInnes talked about the case constantly.

I also discovered that some of the clips that I gave to the States Attorney were used as evidence in the case or at least submitted as evidence. The quote about Gavin comparing Barack Obama to a monkey was quoted in The New York Times.

October 22, 2019

About a year after the brawl outside the Metropolitian Republican Club two members of the Proud Boys were sentenced to four years in prison for the actions the night of the fight. I found out via text by Jared Holt while in the middle of a catering gig. I had mixed feelings. I actually felt somewhat sorry for the two men. One of them did kick another man in the head but I agreed with the judge on the case Mark Dwyer who said,

“It’s a shame when some people jump up and down on a platform and their followers, their soldiers, get into trouble.”

McInnes was reckless in his promotion of violence. He somehow thought using violence as a means of political change was something he came up with. He didn’t bother to notice the overwhelming evidence that violence just begets more violence and that any group who tries to beat their opponents into submission is rarely viewed positively.

November 19, 2019

A group calling themselves Latinos for Trump held a rally in support of the convicted Proud Boys outside of a Trump Tower in Midtown Manhattan. About two dozen Proud Boys supporters were met by approx. 300 counter protesters across the street. The protest was rather tame as the NYPD made sure the two groups were nowhere near each other. The night before I made a two-sided sign. I rarely go to protests of any kind but I decided I should go to this one. I put on my Vic Berger IV t-shirt and layered up as it was bitterly cold that day.

The front of my sign said.

This was meant as an inside joke for Vic Berger and the many reporters I’d worked with. The flip side of my sign said. “Proud Boys Go Back to Your Mommies” the following image is from a story about the march in the NY Post.

That’s yours truly on screen while McInnes discusses my sign. I nearly fell over when I realized they were referencing me. I realized at that moment why antifa protesters often cover their faces.

Soon after this I stopped watching or editing McInnes’s show. He spent most episodes complaining about his plight more than anything else. He once had a 50 minute segment called “The People in your Neighborhood” where he ranted about the various different types of people who accosted him in public. I’m sure his viewers could relate.

This whole experience changed me in ways I can’t begin to describe in words. In the days after the Pittsburgh shooting I decided I was going to change course completely and go back to school to pursue researching and writing about the far right full-time. McInnes was his own worst enemy. In his attempts to silence or intimidate his critics like Marcotte, he lead me directly to the best resource to expose him. I met other reporters this way. McInnes would insult them in a segment. I’d capture the footage and then send it to a reporter. It’s how I met Colin Moynihan of the NY Times.

I’m sure now I will be trolled for days or even longer. McInnes will call me a spinster with dried up ovaries who has become a colostomy bag for men’s cum. He will say I can’t write and that I’m a loser, even though as an entrepreneur technically the Proud Boys are supposed to celebrate me. I will take the hits as they come. The first amendment applies to everyone, including people McInnes doesn’t agree with. If he or anyone says anything into a camera they should expect someone who is critical of them is watching. Of course he or anyone can say whatever they want on any platform but those words do not come without consequence.

In the most surprising twist of this story I discovered that Alex Jones was kicked off of Facebook due to his association with McInnes. I sent an email to a number of the reporters I’ve worked with the subject title “We are the Masters of the Universe.” I was joking of course but I never would have imagined when I set off on this project that I would ever have any influence towards getting someone like Jones kicked off a platform like Facebook. I was just a nerdy crazy cat lady after all. I still make raw cat food, although now I have a much better meat grinder it doesn’t make nearly as big of a mess.

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9/11 – Mourning our Dead shouldn’t be a Partisan issue.

Date: September 11, 2019

Photo By: julietjeske

Photo Comments: 2 Replies

september-9-11-gettyimages-134352247

Exactly 18 years ago today the United States experienced the worst terrorist attack on US soil. Nineteen men hijacked four fuel loaded U.S. commercial airplanes bound for west coast cities. The planes were intentionally flown into both the North and South tower of the World Trade Center and the Pentagon in Washington DC. A fourth plane was diverted by courageous passengers and crash landed in a field outside of Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

The death toll was as follows.

Pennsylvania – 40 passengers and crew members
Washington DC – 184 Pentagon employees
New York City – 2753 workers including 343 FDNY fire fighters, 23 NYPD officers and 37 Port Authority officers.

Since the attack over 241 NYPD officers and an additional 202 FDNY firefighters have died from respiratory illnesses related to the toxic plume of dust at ground zero.

I lived in New York at the time of the disaster. I had only lived here for five months when this city was stabbed in the heart. Although my apartment was over three miles away from the World Trade Center, my neighborhood of Kensington Brooklyn was covered in a fine dust of pulverized glass, concrete, steel and human remains that covered victims at ground zero. The ash fell so subtly and faintly that I didn’t notice it until the next morning when every car was suddenly covered in a light gray powder. I felt the same gritty ash between my fingers as it collected on the only window sill that was downwind of the attack.

After 9/11 I naively thought that this day would be remembered with reverence by all Americans. Sadly the event has turned into a political football of sorts, tossed around and exploited to serve any number of purposes. The right wing used the disaster as a rallying call to war. The US dropped bombs on Afghanistan a month after the attack then invaded Iraq under completely dubious claims that Iraq was somehow connected to the event.

The fringes of the left wing have gone in a completely different direction. Many have cynically decided that the attack on 9/11 was well deserved for the many abuses and atrocities the US government has committed in the Middle East and elsewhere. On August 23rd, 2019 a left wing pundit affiliated with the online news network The Young Turks, Hasan Piker flippantly joked on his own twitch account.

America deserved 9/11

I’m not sure where the humor was in his statement but Piker later apologized, although he was less than contrite. When 9/11 happened Piker was a 4th grader living in Turkey. Perhaps his youth and inexperience might play a role here. However Piker is not alone, I have seen similar sentiments promoted by others on the far left.

In some ways I get why Piker might actually believe what he said, why it was easy to let those words come flying out of his mouth. If I tried to list all of the fiascos the US government has facilitated or exacerbated in foreign countries this article would be several volumes long. From South and Central America to the Middle East, Asia and beyond the U.S. government has purposefully and indirectly caused great destruction and massive loss of life. In the case of Iran our government destroyed a democracy while propping up corrupt dictators all in the name of cheap oil. Even when we are trying to stop violence our policies have often had unintended deadly consequences. Our attempts to curb drug trafficking and limit the power of drug cartels led to wide spread human rights abuses in places like Columbia. Most of our attempts to stymie various Socialist regimes have been fruitless. The U.S. government is hardly an innocent bystander in world affairs.

I don’t necessarily disagree with Piker’s point of view, however I don’t think the nearly 3000 people who perished on 9/11 deserved to die. It also seems incongruous that so called anti-war progressives would be comparing body counts. A new stack of bodies does not undo a prior injustice. No one surveyed all 2977 victims and asked them detailed questions about America’s role in the many problems plaguing the Middle East.

The victims of 9/11 died because they were American. The terrorists would have just as easily killed any of the smug, self-important, armchair foreign policy experts who dismiss the attack. The average American knows little about our legacy of foreign intervention. Most citizens of any country are not experts on the misdeeds of their government. We can vote and protest but if our elected officials decide to manipulate or decimate a sovereign nation there’s little a single voter can do about it.

Timothy McVeigh used the exact same reason to justify the bombing of the Oklahoma federal building. In that domestic terrorist attack, 168 civilians including 19 children lost their lives because McVeigh thought his fertilizer bomb would start a revolution of sorts against the U.S. government. McVeigh saw himself as a righteous revolutionary avenging the many sins of this country. McVeigh believed earnestly that the U.S. government had acted tyrannously against its own people, so in his mind the deaths he caused were justified. This eye for an eye, tit for tat mentality just fuels the same exact rhetoric that causes incidents like 9/11 and the bombing of Afghanistan. War at its simplest form is vengeance for a past injustice. Does the far left really want to promote this ideology?

Does Russia now get to invade Germany and kill 24-26 million people? Does China get to slaughter 20 million Japanese? Do the Japanese get to pick two strategic US cities and nuke them into oblivion? Do Native Americans now have the moral high ground to seize every acre of land stolen from them and commit genocide on roughly 330 million people? Of course I could keep going the list would be endless. Every major world power would be invaded and decimated if vengeance was exacted for their many sins. Why not open the floodgates?

There’s also a lot of distance in between being highly critical of the US government and being a cheerleader for our enemy. Why does it have to be all or nothing? Can’t a person be both against the policies of their government and still mourn their dead? Why do some folks on both extremes of the political divide live as if we are in a sporting match to the death and must reject anything and everything that the opposing side promotes? Mourning our dead should be not be a partisan issue.

To anyone who thinks America deserved 9/11, I’d like to point out that New York City still paid the heaviest price. People living in Iowa didn’t have to see the plume of smoke rising from lower Manhattan every day for months after the attack. Folks in Northern California didn’t have to listen to fighter jets flying overhead amid the silence of a city completely shutdown. Texans didn’t have to reach down to help a stranger on the street as they collapsed from grief. Fourth graders in Turkey didn’t feel the sharp grit of pulverized glass, cement and human remains between their finger tips. New York City had been a target before 9/11 and h as been a target since the attac k. While some cavalier pundit like Piker is out walking his dog we will be digging up dead bodies and cleaning blood off our streets.

Ironically when that same US government decided to use the 9/11 attacks as an excuse to fight a war in Iraq for bogus reasons New Yorkers came out in record numbers to protest against it. Those of us closest to the dead and dying didn’t want any more bloodshed in our name. We didn’t want to be used as an excuse for bombs being dropped on civilians or some kind of personal vendetta for our then president. Most of us accept that we will probably face another attack. Every time we get on the subway we know that a suicide bomber could annihilate us in an instant. It’s simply become the price of living here.

The other unintended consequence of a statement like “America deserved 9/11” is that it only fuels a right wing propaganda machine that promotes the idea that all liberals are cruel, self-centered, elitists who hate this country. Someone like Piker might need to be reminded that 4 out of 10 American voters identify as moderates or independents. Most voters in the middle might find a statement like “America deserved 9/11′ as repugnant.

As time moves forward 9/11 will become a distant act with long dead victims who become more faceless and inconsequential with every passing year. Both sides will continue to exploit the attack for whatever agenda they think they can use it for. For me it will always remain a beautiful fall day when suddenly a city full of 8.4 million people was stabbed in the heart. I will never forget. The lives of Americans do not mean less than the lives of Afghanis or Iraqis. If we are really going to promote pacifism then it must be done across the board. It’s not enlightened or progressive to mock the death of your own citizens as a means of political discourse, it’s just hateful.

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Top 10 Rules for Dating in New York City – If you’re completely over it and don’t give a shit anymore.

Date: February 6, 2019

Author: julietjeske

Categories: Dating - NYC, Dating After 35, Dating After Divorce, Dating Online, New York City, Relationships, Single Life, Social Media, Uncategorized

Comments: 1 Reply

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

After a three-year stint of completely avoiding the dating scene in New York City I dared to venture back into the fray. I’m probably going to opt out again any day now as it’s just as screwed up as it’s ever been. Here are my handy tips if you’ve hit the wall and nearly given up hope.

1. If your date actually shows up you are halfway there – It’s next to impossible to get a man to actually agree to a date. Expect nothing. When I say nothing I mean exactly that. Will your date show up? Maybe! He might look completely different from the person in his photos. You might get a cancellation as late as several minutes into your planned encounter. He might meet you briefly and then drag you into a social situation full of strangers. Once on a second date I was introduced to an entire dinner party full of friends along with my date’s teenage daughter. The two of us clicked right away because neither one of us wanted to be there. Her first words to me were about how her mother had been arrested in an European airport for throwing a temper tantrum. Needless to say that I didn’t end up dating her father.

Pro-tip – If your date doesn’t show up order a dirty martini and just start talking to random strangers. You’ll probably end up with a new gay male best friend. That’s what’s happens to me anyway.

2. Cyberstalk the shit out of the person – Not only do I advise doing this, I think you’d be reckless to not google them. I’ve found articles and images my dates didn’t know existed. I’ve made the mistake of telling complete strangers what I’ve found on them. Men tend to misread this one. I’m just making sure they’re not married, a serial killer or using an alias.

Pro-tip – Do NOT scroll through the comments section. The comments section on any social media account will reveal too much. I’ve figured out who is an ex-girlfriend, who might want to be the next girlfriend and even exact dates of breakups. If you want to leave some mystery feel free to scroll through the images, just avoid the commentary. If a person wants privacy they wouldn’t be putting these images online. I don’t know how many people I’ve had to point this out to before. If you put it on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook or any other social media app we can all see it. If you want privacy then change the privacy settings for those accounts.

3. Avoid initiating all correspondence after a date – New Yorkers like their partners silent and hassle free. If you contact them at all for any purpose whatsoever you risk being branded a “Crazy clingy psycho” even if you only text them a handful of times. Don’t call them on the actual phone, I you do that you’ll freak them out so much they’ll probably notify the police. If you are unconventional like myself and contact someone via email or on social media they might move to another state to avoid your stalker ways. I’m strange in that I tend to interact with most of my friends on social media. I’ve found when I do this to men I barely know or have never met they completely misread it.

Pro-tip – As soon as you walk away from the date immediately delete his number. I wish I was actually capable of this but I’d still strongly suggest you try it.

4. Become a semi-professional pornographer – Like dick pics? Well it’s your lucky day, you’ll get plenty! Worried about having nude or semi-nude photos of yourself floating around the internet for all of eternity? What are you some kind of uptight prude? Buy some lighting, get a good camera and Photoshop out any tattoos that might reveal your identity. Fall in love with close-ups of your genitalia because people you’ve hung out with for less than two hours will come asking for them. You’ll sometimes get these requests before your first date.

Pro-tip – You never know where those photos are going to end up. Send them a photo of a cat or Dick Cheney. Fuck with their head. Give them nothing.

5. Learn to love spontaneity – Like planning more than a day in advance? Have an unusual schedule that can be difficult to plan around? Well then you’re never dating anyone. If you won’t jump up at a moment’s notice and meet some guy you barely know in a dive bar in the Lower East Side, you’re never getting laid again. Get used to meeting up with men when they’re already half drunk. You might be the second or third woman they’ve texted that night. Once I showed up to a bar only to meet another woman who was also beckoned. He’d made a mistake and didn’t realize we might both show up. He didn’t get laid but I’m still friends with the woman to this day.

Pro tip – Find someone with the same batshit crazy schedule as yourself. It might seem impossible which why I also suggest learning to love YouTube clips from “Mad Men” watching images of Jon Hamm might just be enough, it usually is for me anyway.

6. You’ll be judged harshly for all of your life choices up until this point – Did you go to state college? Did you major in the arts? Do you live with five roommates? Are you divorced? Have you ever lived with anyone? How many stupid jobs have you had? Bernie Bro or HRC? If you call yourself a moderate you basically are admitting you’re a Neo Nazi. You will be judged, cataloged and written off for the slightest offense or sign of eccentricity.

Pro-tip – Judge back. Go deep. If he gives you grief for having three cats shame him for not opening his life and apartment up to one of the millions of unwanted animals languishing in shelters. How dare he live his life WITHOUT a cat. So what if he’s allergic there are LIVES TO BE SAVED HERE!

7. Expect lazy dates – Would you feel comfortable going over to a stranger’s apartment for a glass of wine for a first date? Why not? Maybe you don’t like being dismembered, date raped or being trapped in an apartment with a drunken fool. I’ve been asked out for that exact scenario more than once. I know I’m such an uptight bitch for insisting on a public location full of potential witnesses but I’m old fashioned that way.

Pro-tip – Always insist on a public place for a first date and when in doubt make up an annoying texting friend so you can leave whenever you want.

8. Find the right slut balance – The Madonna/Whore complex runs deep in the urban male. Men will expect and hope that you will have sex with them minutes after you meet them. If you decide to take the plunge too early you’ll be branded a worthless slut and discarded accordingly. If you try to hold out for a second or third date you might be considered a sexless puritanical old maid. If you’ve survived date one without putting out then you enter the dangerous territory of the space between date one and two. Will you have to whip out your own personal Penthouse level quality snapshots? Or will you be expected to sext, flirt or engage in XXX Instant Messaging. Have a web cam? All the better just don’t go full porn star or you’re not likely to hear from him again. The only exception of course is if you’re in the polyamorous group. Then there are no rules. The slut balance is your balance.

Pro-tip – I’ve got nothing. Use condoms. You’re still going to get at least three strains of HPV with condoms anyway but you’ll hopefully avoid The Clap or maybe some new antibiotic resistant strain of Gonorrhea doctors won’t be able to treat yet.

9. Dates will ask for full disclosure – Where do you live? That’s probably priority #1 because no one wants to put any effort forth. If they live in Bushwick and you live in Bay Ridge the chances of a second date are slim to none. If you meet someone who lives in another borough it had better be a 15-20 minute commute or it’s never going to happen. You can live more than 30 minutes away but it had better be on the same train line and not require a transfer. How much do you make? Who did you vote for in 1992? Were you old enough to vote in 1992? What do you do for a living? How many kids do you want to have? Do you have kids? What is your drug history? What drugs do you do on a regular basis? Don’t be surprised if your date asks you about specific sexual preferences or peccadilloes.

Pro-tip – Tell them everything. Declare things they never even asked about. Reveal your last boyfriend’s dick size and shape. Why not? They’ll probably find it out while cyberstalking you anyway.

10. Practice Self-Care – Find a beautiful spot in nature such as a park, beach or flower garden. Pick up a mason jar, hold it closely in your hands. As you hold meditate and manifest all the things you’d love to find in a good partner. Visualize everything down to specific details. Feel their touch of their hands, hear the sound of their voice, and smell their scent. Then open the jar, put it close to your mouth and let out a long and passionate gutteral scream. Seal the jar and bury it. That’s the last time you’ll be able to express any real emotion. Emotion is for suckers. If you want to successfully date in New York City you need ice water in your veins.

Pro-tip – Expect to have breakdowns. If you’re going to try to date in this town you’re going to have breakdowns. When in doubt get a cat. I have three. I still have breakdowns.

Dating After Divorce in a City of Sluts (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: Mr. My Bitch Ex-wife (julietjeskeblog.com)
On Being a Straight Spouse: Broken Memories (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating Online: The Coward (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: An Open Letter for Married Men Looking to Cheat (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: Why is it So Difficult in your Late Thirties (julietjeskeblog.com)
Life After Divorce: Please Don’t Blame Me for Being Single (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce on Rebounds and Supernovas (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating in New York: Sexless in the City (julietjeskeblog.com)
Top 10 Rules for Dating in New York City (julietjeskeblog.com)

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NYC Dating – Men of NYC – I’m just not that into you.

Date: January 31, 2019

Author: julietjeske

Categories: Dating, Dating - NYC, Dating After 35, Dating After Divorce, Dating Online, New York City, Relationships, Single Life, Uncategorized

Comments: 5 Replies

Photo by Kai Pilger on Pexels.com

One of the main reasons I hate online dating is that it throws off the traditional straight male and female dynamic. I don’t care what study or survey claims to the contrary – straight men HATE it when women are aggressive. There are exceptions to this rule of course but they are few and far between.

As a woman with a somewhat dominant personality I know this all too well. I speak plainly. I say exactly what I’m thinking. There is very little subtext in anything I do or utter. I don’t even know how to operate in a manipulative way. The whole idea of saying one thing while meaning something else completely baffles me. I realize this trait of mine is unusual. It tends to get me in trouble when it comes to dating.

Most straight men want to pursue a woman. They want to woo her and win her over as if she is some sort of rare albino gazelle on the grasslands of Africa. The pursuit feeds their ego, it makes them feel like the woman is some sort of rare gem, and it makes them feel like they’re in control. Any woman who makes it known too early that she is also actively pursuing a man is seen as less desirable, desperate or pathetic.

Here’s the thing gentlemen of the city that never sleeps. Despite being 45 years old and being far from perfect I can still get just about any man. If all I’m looking for is no strings attached sex it’s not a problem. If I only want to have sex with the man once and never see him again it’s even easier. I’m not including married men and men in committed relationships when I say that, although I get plenty of offers from men who aren’t exactly single. I’m not bragging. I’m not unique or exceptional. Nearly any woman within a reasonable age range can bed just about any single and available man. Men pay for the privilege of getting sex. They spend hours in strip clubs in a sexually charged environment. Some will waste most of their leisure time watching porn. Sex for men can be difficult to come by but for most women sex is easy. It’s almost too easy. There’s no challenge in it. There’s no game. Simply be willing and able and give no signs that you expect anything but sex and most women can bed whomever they please.

This is where online dating comes in. The dynamic of men pursuing women gets completely thrown off because half the apps make it next to impossible for men to start the ball rolling. I understand why this is as most women get inundated with sexually explicit requests when there are no safeguards. What happens instead is now the woman have to make the first move. It might seem great in theory but it tends to make men think we are far more interested than we actually are. I honestly have incredibly low expectations for any man I meet online. I don’t expect much because I’ve been on so many bad dates. The whole thing is a crapshoot. Most times it’s just two strangers awkwardly trying to figure out a way to bolt and go home. It’s no one’s fault, it’s just how dating random people tends to work out.

I never want to get married again. I don’t want to move in with someone. I’ve given up on having children. So rest assured I’m not planning our wedding. I’m certainly not wondering how I’ll re-arrange my life when we move in together and I’m not naming our future children. What I do want is to physically go out with someone and see them on a semi-regular basis. My bar is low. I don’t think any man is perfection personified. I’ve been married and divorced. There’s no way I would ever fall for anyone instantly. If you are a decent human being, treat me well and we have even scant chemistry I’ll probably want to go out with you again. That’s it. That’s as deep as this ocean gets when I barely know someone.

Since I’ve been single I’ve had more requests for virtual sex than the real thing. I’ve been asked to drop everything on a moment’s notice to hookup with some guy in the middle of the night. I get solicitations for nude photos before I’ve even been intimate with a man. I guess that’s just expected now since we all have mirrors and we all have phones.

I AM BEYOND SICK OF THIS NONSENSE.

Your offers of no strings attached casual sex are about as common and inviting as the blackened pieces of chewing gum pounded into any subway platform. I love sex but I also like knowing the person a little before I have sex with them. I want to go see movies, have a meal or maybe go for a hike. I want to share my day with them and ask them how their day went. That’s it. I’m not asking for much here.

When I’ve tried to just park it and let men take the lead on those dating sites basically nothing happens. No one asks me out. I get no email. I just wonder why this got so difficult. I don’t know what happened to dating. I don’t understand how I’m supposed to interact in a world full of confusing text messages, sexting and booty calls.

I just want and crave actual human interaction more than I could possibly express here. So sorry men of New York City I’m not really into you. I don’t care how much money you make or where you work. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you have some sort of award or if you’re famous. The fact that you are published or work for a hedge fund does not impress me. I’d rather watch clips of Adam Driver or Jon Hamm and let my imagination wander than put up with this dehumanizing endeavor. Why is this so hard? I’ve given up trying to figure it out. I’m just screaming into the void at this point. Dating as we know it is dead and for some reason I just keep going to funerals expecting the corpse to jump up and start dancing.

Top 10 Worst Things to Say to a Newly Divorced Person (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce in a City of Sluts (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: Why is it So Difficult in your Late Thirties (julietjeskeblog.com)
Life After Divorce: Please Don’t Blame Me for Being Single (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce on Rebounds and Supernovas (julietjeskeblog.com)
Sexless in the City (julietjeskeblog.com)
Divorce.us.org Shares Their New Website and the Symptoms of Divorce in the Technological Age (prweb.com)
UK News: Divorce rate after 10 years static (walesonline.co.uk)
Post-divorce rebound: A requisite heart pummeling (wealthysinglemommy.com)
Wading Out to the Deep End (offgothepanties.com)

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Dating After Divorce: On Turning Feral…

Date: June 12, 2018

Author: julietjeske

Categories: Dating, Dating - NYC, Dating After 35, Dating After Divorce, Dating Online, New York City, Uncategorized

Comments: 5 Replies

A couple of years ago while watching a documentary I discovered a house cat can revert to its natural state under the right circumstances. I imagined my obese ginger male going from his prescription canned cat food to hunting and feasting on rodents and birds. His once silky coat now matted with dirt and leaves. His fat haunches transformed into lean muscle. Instead of dramatically crying for his supper twice a day, he’d hide in alleys and beneath parked cars avoiding contact with humans while ruling the night. As I stroked Otto’s fur I decided I’d was no longer single, I’d turned feral instead.

When I went through a difficult divorce nine years ago I suspected my dating life would be difficult. I had no idea it would become a soul-crushing, near impossible endeavor. Right out of the gate, I had two fairly tragic rebound relationships that imploded almost as soon as they’d started. Online dating felt more like an exercise in attrition and increasingly lowered expectations. I’d get the obligatory emails from men involved with BDSM – twice as many submissives than dominants. Couples would email me hoping I want to join in some three-way play. My inbox would overflow with email from men in other countries and far away states. Traveling business men would contact me late at night, expecting me to drop everything to run to their hotel room and be their unpaid prostitute. Dates rarely materialized and if they did they were often two awkward people sitting across from each other with nothing in common but judgmental stares. Men openly criticized me for my profession, the circumstances around my divorce, and pretty much every lifestyle choice I had made up until the point of meeting them. When I met men offline it seemed like the only interested parties were either married or so young they could easily be mistaken for my son. I’d also met guys who expected me to go home with them five minutes after meeting them. If I showed any hesitation at all I was quickly forgotten for the next random woman who would say yes.

When I showed interest in anyone I was usually treated like a completely crazy person. I realize I’m not every man’s dream woman. I have a big personality. I talk a lot. I’m so nerdy that I can blather for hours about the rise of fascism or the madness of Kaiser Wilhelm II. I won’t know anything about the latest movie that came out but I could tell you more than you’d ever want to know about the life of Nikola Tesla or how mutations take hold in a genome. I’m opinionated and stubborn. I will disagree and challenge men often and openly. For amusement I get onstage and yell at total strangers in darkened basements that are masquerading as makeshift comedy clubs. I’m a sledgehammer of truth. Some folks find my qualities charming while others, find them incredibly annoying. My natural nemesis seems to be the classic khaki wearing, boat shoed finance bro alpha male. On multiple occasions I’ve found myself in screaming matches with a half drunk, angry day trader minutes after meeting them.

I’m also not all that interested in finding my dream man. I have massive trust issues and pretty much assume every man is lying to me from the moment they open their mouth. Because my ex-husband was a closeted gay man I pretty much assume all men are gay until proven otherwise. Any nurturing qualities left in me were stamped out by my dysfunctional and broken marriage. I don’t want to fix a man, pay his rent, make him forget his last girlfriend or guide him through rehab. If he’s not ready to wear I’ll just toss him back on the pile. I have zero interest in being an unpaid and untrained psychotherapist. There’s no part of me that longs to hang out with people I can’t stand because they’re friends with my partner. I don’t want to sit through plates of hot wings and beer when I’d rather have vegetarian Chinese takeout. If he’s wounded and broken, I’ll leave him for someone who can handle wounded and broken. I’ve got a freight train worth of emotional baggage and a hair-trigger that will cause me to bolt the second I sense danger. If a man blanks me on a text, I will delete them from my phone.
I’ll leave my apartment with glasses, messy hair, ball caps and dirty jeans. No fucks are given. I watch my weight like a hawk because I have to for my industry but I honestly don’t care if someone finds me “pretty.”

I’ve got no online dating profiles. I waste no glances as men walk by. I pose no questions about a man’s dating status.

I live in an apartment the size of an average single car garage. My 450 square foot space is so small that no man would look at it and see an inch for his belongings. There’s no spare drawer or extra closet space. If I was actually trying to date I’d issue parking rules on my front door. – Four hour minimum or mandatory tow.

I look forward to my future as I grow increasingly strange and eccentric. I’ll become the 60-year-old with blue hair who still wears Doc Martens and has birthday parties for my cats. The lack of companionship has caused entire sections of my personality to atrophy and die. I encourage others now to eschew the label of single and embrace the feral mindset. We are no longer waiting for our Mr. or Mrs. Right, we are hunting proverbial birds and mice in the night and loving every second of it.

Dating After Divorce in a City of Sluts (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: Mr. My Bitch Ex-wife (julietjeskeblog.com)
On Being a Straight Spouse: Broken Memories (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating Online: The Coward (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: An Open Letter for Married Men Looking to Cheat (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: Why is it So Difficult in your Late Thirties (julietjeskeblog.com)
Life After Divorce: Please Don’t Blame Me for Being Single (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce on Rebounds and Supernovas (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating in New York: Sexless in the City (julietjeskeblog.com)
Top 10 Rules for Dating in New York City (julietjeskeblog.com)

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Top 10 reasons why Being Single on Valentine’s Day is the Greatest!

Date: February 14, 2016

Author: julietjeske

Categories: New York City, Single Life, Uncategorized

Comments: 3 Replies

1. CHEAP CANDY DAY – I actually think this needs to become a real holiday that happens twice a year. Once on February 15th and then again on November 1st. I know the candy makers will figure this out and find a way to screw us, but for now they are both splendid days indeed!

2. No gifts to buy! – What does a woman buy a man for Valentine’s Day? Most just want sex, and well that’s usually going to happen anyway….anything else just seems silly, yet the expectation is there. For men the whole gift/night to remember situation is not only daunting but expensive. In New York City a couple could blow $1,000 on an ice cream sundae, and that doesn’t include the Broadway show tickets!

3. No pressure to act like you’re having a great time when you’re not – We’ve all been there. Our partner’s plan out some elaborate event and absolutely everything is dreadful. The restaurant is too crowded, the waiter is mean, the food is lousy, the concert is terrible, the moonlight carriage ride is smelly and the driver is rude. Meanwhile you have to pretend like it’s the greatest night of your life, because you don’t want to her anyone’s feelings.

4. No poorly timed monthly visitors – There’s nothing worse than planning a big romantic evening only to have Ms. Flow show up early. Sure you can work around it but she really does ruin the mood, especially if she brings along her friend – Ms. Cramps.

5. No annoying flower battles at work – I don’t have a traditional job, but I remember when I did how the never-ending bouquets would come pouring in the office all day long. It seemed like the bigger the flower arrangement the more precarious the relationship. Sure the married women with 20 years under their belt would get a sizable display but the couples that kept breaking up only to get back together again always included several mylar heart-shaped balloons. Then there was always some sad sack in the office who had a boyfriend but who didn’t get anything. She’d tell everyone it was waiting for her at home, but we knew that her boyfriend would break her spirit as much as her soul-crushing job did every day.

6. No expectations of some life-changing event – No one is going to propose to me! I’ll never have a joint bank account again!!! I won’t have to worry about checks bouncing because my husband just blew several hundred dollars on something stupid! I’m sure plenty of divorced men can relate to this one. Blowing money on stupid purchases is a universal human trait!

7. No awkward sexual experiences – Sometimes couples like to push the envelope on the big day and take things too far, only to find themselves in compromising or embarrassing situations. The porn actors make it look so easy, but they’ve got multiple takes, a crew to help them with angles and lighting. Ask anyone who works in film or television production, it’s all about good lighting.

8. No drunken crying spirals of despair – With expectations so high, also comes disappointment. Anything could happen. What if you happen to find out that he’s cheating on you? Or that you’re NOT getting engaged even though he’s been hinting at it for months? Or what if in the middle of the salad course, you just look into his eyes are realize you can’t stand him, he can’t stand you anymore and you’d both be better off on your own. These things happen. Then you end up slamming a few back, and wind up calling your best friend at 3 AM to tell her that everything you believed in was a lie and that the universe is collapsing in on you.

9. No forced emotion – There’s nothing worse than hitting Valentine’s Day with a guy you’ve just started dating. Should he send flowers or will it make him look overeager? Should you make big plans, even though you haven’t even been to his apartment yet? Should you buy him something or will it make you look like a stage 5 clinger? If you’ve only been on three dates or less, just act like February 14th is a day like any other and skip right over it.

10. FREEDOM – You can REALLY just watch Netflix and chill. Throw on a onesize, order some Chinese takeout and watch a marathon of Breaking Bad, The Making of a Murder, or maybe season 2 of Orange is The New Black again. Everyone knows season 2 is the best season. You don’t have to get dressed up, impress anyone, fake an orgasm, or act like you care about some dumb ass chef’s special that you know is overpriced and overrated. You can dance around in footie pajamas and stuff your face with General Tso’s Chicken if you want. (I eat the vegetarian version) It’s your day! LOVE IT!

Dating After Divorce in a City of Sluts (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: I Like You but You’re not HER (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: Mr. My Bitch Ex-wife (julietjeskeblog.com)
On Being a Straight Spouse: Broken Memories (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating Online: The Coward (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: An Open Letter for Married Men Looking to Cheat (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: Why is it So Difficult in your Late Thirties (julietjeskeblog.com)
Life After Divorce: Please Don’t Blame Me for Being Single (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce on Rebounds and Supernovas (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating in New York: Sexless in the City (julietjeskeblog.com)
Top 10 Rules for Dating in New York City (julietjeskeblog.com)

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Dating in New York City: The Rat Race Redefined.

Date: October 14, 2015

Author: julietjeske

Categories: Dating - NYC, Dating After Divorce, Depression, Divorce, New York City, Relationships, Straight Spouse, Uncategorized

Comments: 1 Reply

Months before I moved to New York City I made the mistake of watching a documentary about rats in the city. I learned rats could chew right through cement and squeeze their entire bodies through holes no bigger than the size of their skulls. Rats must constantly gnaw on anything in order to keep their always-growing teeth a manageable size. Their jaw muscles exert a shocking 12 tons of pressure per square inch. Rats spread disease, fleas and cause fires from chewing through electrical wiring. In moments of extreme stress they attack each other and will even resort to cannibalism. After that film, the mere sight of a battle-scarred super-sized rodent with a flesh tail would cause my heartbeat to quicken and stomach to churn. I found myself in fits of panic if they got more than a few feet from me.

When my ex and I moved from Brooklyn to Washington Heights we discovered a fairly developed rat nest in the roots of a tree in the sidewalk. In the rats would scurry from their nest across the sidewalk and into the alley of a building two doors down from our own. We’d hear screams of people who had made the mistake of walking on our side of the street night after night. My ex-husband counted as many as 20 rats at a time in the courtyard of our neighboring building. We’d watch in despair as they would chew perfect tunnels through solid concrete the city poured over their nest.. Animal control repeatedly set poison traps, and laid wife mesh over the concrete and nothing seemed to stop them.

Then one night, out of nowhere my reaction towards the monstrous creatures changed. I was coming home late at night after a comedy gig and saw one, all by himself sniffing around the subway platform searching for food. He had half of a tail and large patches of baldness along with matted fur. This rat wasn’t doing so well, and for the first time I saw desperation in his movements. He just didn’t run around like every other rat I’d ever seen before, he seemed panicked and fearful.

I couldn’t help but see a part of myself in this poor dying creature. When I first moved here, I was one half of a couple. I had dreams and ambitions that always included the man I thought was the love of my life. Fourteen years later after the terrorist attack on 9-11, a city-wide blackout, Hurricane Sandy, a devastating divorce, the premature death of too many friends, suicidal thoughts and crippling depression I found myself alone. I’m not as young as I once was, my reproductive capacity shrinks by the minute and I’m deeply damaged. In order to pay my bills I work constantly. Some weeks I might get one day off, or work nonstop without a break for days on end.

There are those who criticize me for choices I’ve made, things I’ve written or said, and my “bad” attitude. Of course they have no idea what goes on in my head, or how difficult it might be to come back after such a devastating loss. Things haven’t completely healed and in the past six years I’ve rarely felt strong emotion towards a man for any extended period of time. I don’t know if I’ll live the rest of my days alone. In many ways surviving after the breakup has been harder than the split itself. One day turns into another and nothing changes.

I get harassed on a daily basis with men leering at me, shouting out filth, blocking my path or even grabbing me on the street. Most of the guys who express interest in me only want sex, and will literally not even touch me after the fact. It’s as if I’ve left the room and might as well leave, which is usually what I do anyway. I’ve numbed myself enough to stand it, and swallowed pride and emotions with the increasing dexterity. If that’s what I need to do to survive then so be it., I survive, but only barely.

So when I looked at that rat, desperately hunting for food, doing nothing more but trying to make it to the next day I felt empathy for his plight. I didn’t want to go near the poor animal, and I’m not kidding myself about wild urban rats. They’re a dangerous scourge, the city is right to try to eradicate them and control their numbers. Regardless he was still a little life who never did anything but try to make it to the next day. For reasons beyond his control he was born into a crowded metropolis and will probably die of starvation, poison, or at the teeth of another rat soon enough. For the first time in my life, I had compassion for something I had once reviled. Chances are he never ate another rat, or attacked a human, he was probably just an average rat living off a garbage and dodging subway cars. I sat down on a bench a safe distance away from him and watched his darting and scheming until the next train came.

As much as I’ve been through, and as hard as things get, my struggles and pain have been a gift. Had I stayed married and enjoyed the success of my ex-husband’s thriving career I might have never found empathy and compassion for that sad little animal. I would take what I had for granted, and failed to see that every new day is truly a blessing. I had to lose everything to become more human. My life might not get easier for many years to come, or it could change in an instant. I’m just happy I’m still here and I don’t fear the rats anymore.

Dating After Divorce in a City of Sluts (julietjeskeblog.com)
On Being a Straight Spouse: Broken Memories (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: Why is it So Difficult in your Late Thirties (julietjeskeblog.com)
Life After Divorce: Please Don’t Blame Me for Being Single (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce on Rebounds and Supernovas (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating in New York: Sexless in the City (julietjeskeblog.com)
Top 10 Rules for Dating in New York City (julietjeskeblog.com)

Follow me on Twitter https://twitter.com/JulietJeske

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Dating Online: Advice for Men – Photos Revisited

Date: November 25, 2014

Author: julietjeske

Categories: Dating - NYC, Dating After 35, Dating After Divorce, Dating Online, New York City, Relationships, Uncategorized

Comments: Leave a reply

I written about this topic before, but after a long hiatus from online dating, I’ve decided to revisit it. It seems like men’s photos are getting worse, not better. As I’ve said on the blog multiple times, If I was going to give men any advice on how to create a successful online dating profile it would be this.

Have a trusted female friend look over your profile before you publish it.

I could type that 100 times for emphasis, but I’ll restrain myself. Don’t use your mom, or your sister, use a trusted female friend. You want to use a woman who doesn’t see you as a a nonsexual being, so your relatives are out of the question.

Here are my top 10 tips for picking the right photo for your online dating profile.

1. Don’t look like a serial killer – What does a serial killer look like? It’s hard to say really. It could be the outdated serial killer glasses, or the slicked down side part. We just know it when we see it. Show your friends, and simply ask – Do I look like a serial killer in any of these shots? If the answer is yes, then don’t post them.

2. Don’t look like a pretentious douche bag – What does that mean? It depends on the person. Are you standing in front of your flashy Porsche or McMansion in your photos? Are contemplating the universe with the caption to match? Are you holding a pipe while wearing a bow tie made out of pipe cleaners? Looking like a prick is relative to the woman who is viewing your visage. If you use terms like “visage” in your photo captions, you might look like a pretentious douche bag.

3. Don’t use several group photos – Some guys have nothing but group shots. Don’t make a woman search through several photos playing – Where’s Waldo?

4. Don’t cut your head off – I’m going to assume you’re married or hideous. Don’t give me bullshit about having an important job. I once had a date inside the United Nations, it wasn’t the greatest match but his job wasn’t exactly mundane.

5. Don’t use professionally shot modeling or acting photos – They look a bit forced. You can use one or two but don’t have a slew of them.

6. Don’t limit yourself to one photo – Use at least three. The more you show the more likely someone will respond. If your only photo is of yourself from a far distance, no potential date is going to have any idea what you look like. Use a body shot, a crop of your face and one that’s from the waist up. If you have more than three that’s great but three should be a good start.

7. Don’t use a landscape photo as your main profile picture – Again, I will assume you’re hiding something or married. SHOW YOUR FACE!

8. Please don’t post a dick pic – I said please. I’m begging you not to do it, unless of course it’s a hook-up site or a woman asks specifically to see your junk. An unsolicited dick pic is bad enough, a dick pic as your profile photo is the absolute worst.

9. Don’t post a photo of yourself with an ex – Or really even a sister, a friend or any woman other than maybe your mom. It’s confusing, and distracting. I’m going to be trying to figure out who the woman is, rather than just focusing on you. And for the love of all that’s holy, don’t use a photo of yourself next to your ex, with her face blacked out.

10. Limit or eliminate bathroom selfies – You’ve got a smoking hot bod. You want to show it off. Well come up with a more creative way than a self-portrait taken with your cell phone in the bathroom. You could snap one of you working out, or on the beach. I’ve probably seen 10,000 bathroom selfies at this point. Just don’t do it.

BE HONEST – One of my favorite all time profiles was of a beautiful black man in his late thirties. Half of his photos were in typical attire of oxfords, ties, jeans and slacks. Every other photo was of the same man in full women’s drag complete with wig, makeup, lashes, and padding. He openly admitted he was a cross dresser but was straight and interested in women. I APPLAUD this man for making such a bold move. Sure it might turn off a lot of women, but the perfect woman for him wouldn’t mind at all. There were no secrets and I admired his courage for putting it all out there.

If you follow this basic advice I promise you’ll get more emails on your profile!!! And again, when in doubt have a female friend give it the once over before you publish it! You’d be surprised how much having a woman’s perspective could help you out.

Related Articles:

Dating After Divorce in a City of Sluts – (huffingtonpost.com)
Dating in New York – Top Ten Rules (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: Why is it so Difficult in your Late Thirties (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating Online: Why you get Ignored (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating Online: The Coward (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: Bad Boys and Psycho Bitches (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating Online: Why a Young Cub is not Always that Attractive to a Cougar (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating Online: Confessions of an Accidental Cougar (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: Mr. or Ms. Angry (julietjeskeblog.com)

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Dating in New York City – The Death of Dating & Emotional Zombies

Date: November 20, 2014

Author: julietjeske

Categories: Dating - NYC, Dating After 35, Dating After Divorce, Dating Online, New York City, Single Life, Uncategorized

Comments: 3 Replies

I sometimes think being single in New York City turns a person into an emotional zombie. I don’t say that to insult single New Yorkers as I am single myself. I have noticed though in the past few years that my personality has drastically changed when it comes to dating. I used to get really worked about it, and now I’m a step away from comatose. All emotion has basically been beaten out of me. No one has physically attacked me of course, but any rough edges are now weathered down by a sea of apathy. It’s as if the harshness of the dating scene washes over us like a thousand pieces of sand paper an smooths us down to smooth dullness.

After the first few dates, I blamed myself for being overly emotional or too screwed up from my recent divorce. I was a complete emotional wreck and probably should have taken time off before dating, but it wasn’t just my emotional turmoil that was causing the problem. It was an entire city devoid of authentic emotion. Not everyone, but most men acted like the walking dead, ruled by their genitalia and nothing else. I was far more judgmental of this quality when I started out, then I realized it wasn’t so much a choice as a method of survival. Like a nasty pandemic it spread throughout the whole city, neither gender spared. I heard story after story from my male friends of women who acted the same way. We were all reduced to little more than our zip code, our sexual preferences and lifestyles. I was no longer a woman in my late thirties/early forties but Flatbush, straight, non-smoker with cats. Everything else about me didn’t seem to matter anymore.

What caused this? What turned an entire metropolis into the land of the emotionally dead? Technology hasn’t helped. Even though now we can connect in so many ways, I can honestly say without irony that I’ve had more solicitations for cyber sex than actual physical contact. When once a man might call me on the phone to chat, they now text. Communication reduced to broken phrases and emoticons. Even typing in a complete sentence is too much effort for some. Misunderstandings are common as tone is next to impossible to convey and sarcasm deadly. Dating websites have evolved into hook-up apps that promise little more than one awkward or thrilling evening to cut the boredom.

Eventually I’ve succumbed and became numb myself. It must have been all the bad dates, the dick pics, the requests for immediate sex, the constant same day cancellations, and the judgmental pricks who think taking a train to Brooklyn is just too much to ask. I officially gave up a while ago. I’ve shut down all of my online dating profiles, I can’t even fathom joining tinder. When I do date, which isn’t often, I find myself trying to smother any spark of emotions that are left. I tell myself, don’t react, don’t care, show no weakness and maybe you’ll get through it. Maybe if I’m dead enough, I’ll finally win at this game.

But in some ways my zombie infection is a good thing. I used to put up with so much bad treatment. When I would once make excuses for a man who didn’t text back, I now delete them from my phone. I cut them off and don’t look back. When a man is rude or snobbish about my type of employment he becomes invisible to me. When a guy shrugs his shoulders at taking the Q train out to central Brooklyn, I erase him from my brain. I have in many ways become the person I feared. It’s not that I don’t have empathy for others, it’s just survival. In a city where anyone can walk away and return to instant anonymity negative behavior thrives.

I’m less judgmental of people just snapping and hooking up with the next person who offers. I understand the need for human touch that lies within us all no matter how hard we try to bury it. We try to control it completely but all the pornography and our sexually heightened culture can’t control the need to just be next to someone if for a moment. I’ll shuffle back to my own corner of Gotham and try to smother the beast inside who cries out for more. I let the sea of apathy wash over me again and the numbness is comforting.

Top 10 Worst Things to Say to a Newly Divorced Person (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce in a City of Sluts (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce: Why is it So Difficult in your Late Thirties (julietjeskeblog.com)
Life After Divorce: Please Don’t Blame Me for Being Single (julietjeskeblog.com)
Dating After Divorce on Rebounds and Supernovas (julietjeskeblog.com)
Sexless in the City (julietjeskeblog.com)
Divorce.us.org Shares Their New Website and the Symptoms of Divorce in the Technological Age (prweb.com)
UK News: Divorce rate after 10 years static (walesonline.co.uk)
Post-divorce rebound: A requisite heart pummeling (wealthysinglemommy.com)
Wading Out to the Deep End (offgothepanties.com)

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Dating Online – If it Looks too Good to be True…

Date: September 2, 2014

Author: julietjeske

Categories: Dating, Dating After Divorce, Dating Online, New York City, Relationships, Social Media, Uncategorized

Comments: Leave a reply

I’ve heard stories of women getting scammed from online dating sites, and I never thought I would be a target. Most of the stories involved men starting up long-distance, virtual romances with women. Eventually, the romeos would ask for money, either to come meet their true love in person or to help with a personal tragedy – a dying mother, a sick child, or a cancer diagnosis.

I always thought I was immune to this sort of scam because most of the stories I’ve heard involved older women and I refuse to engage in correspondence with anyone who doesn’t live in my immediate area. I trust no one. Then one day I got a message from a profile that looked like a Jaguar in a parking lot full of Hondas. For the purposes of this article, I’ll call him Mr. Beautiful. He simply wrote,

“Hey.”

It was the classic non-committal male introduction. I probably get 20 messages like that a week, from “Hey” to “Hello” to “What’s up?” Most of them go unanswered but this one peaked my interest because the sender was a full-on pretty boy, light brown hair, striking bone structure and a chiseled hairless torso. Now anyone who knows me well, knows I have a “type.” If you lined up all of my ex-boyfriends and trysts, most of them look like they need a sandwich, or two. I like a lanky man. A massive chest and chiseled abs have never been my thing.

I’m also overly cautious around men who are drop dead gorgeous. As I’ve said before on this blog,

He who gets the pussy easily, does not treat the pussy well.

Of course there are exceptions to that rule, but most of us know exceptionally good-looking men who go through women like a rottweiler goes through chew toys. Mr. Beautiful was so attractive, I wouldn’t put him in the top 10% or even 1% of the men I’ve seen. I would put him in the top one tenth of one percent of absolutely, crazy, perfect men I’ve ever encountered. It just didn’t make sense to me that he would be on a free dating site. He had his occupation listed as “model” which made sense, but models come in contact with plenty of attractive women all day long. A typical beautiful person for hire will meet other models, makeup artists, photographers, art directors, interns, agents, managers, stylists, and even celebrities.

Suspecting fraud, I started analyzing his profile further. All of his photos were candid. He didn’t post professional modeling shots. Whomever created his profile tried to make it look casual and believable. They used well lit snapshots that appeared right out of his daily life. I still thought though that someone could have downloaded the images from a social media account and the entire thing was a ruse.

As an experiment, I decided to send him a brief email back. He responded by asking a few questions about what I did for a living. I thought this was odd, as most men ask where I live, they don’t ask what I do. Questions about my occupation still wasn’t enough to figure out if this man was the real deal or not. I told him a few superficial things about myself, but didn’t give him my name.

I then read his profile more closely and discovered he was using his actual name on his account, which is extremely unusual for anyone on a dating site. A quick google search later and I found out the name and images he was the former face of Calvin Klein fragrance. The information on his profile and Wikipedia page were almost completely identical. It wasn’t an exact cut and paste, but there was absolutely no additional information about him on either source. It seemed a bit too perfect, but I still wanted a greater smoking gun. I didn’t want to go out with this man, I just couldn’t help but try to find the evidence I needed to crack the facade.

I kept digging and found two Instagram accounts. One had 32,000 followers, and the other had only 300. The smaller account was made up of a bunch of the same photos at the dating profile. The smaller Instagram account also had some of the exact same information as the dating profile such as his dog’s name, and more bits of personal information. Both Instragram accounts were public. It didn’t appear that one was personal and the other used for publicity. If that were the case, then why not make the smaller profile private? It seemed like someone created a phony Instagram account to further legitimize the fake dating profile.

I got a second email from Mr. Beautiful.

“You know I hate this site. Why don’t we just chat on this other app.”

My suspicions were completely verified when I realized he wanted me to follow him to some sort of third-party site. OKCupid has a chat feature so there was no reason we had to go outside of it to talk in real time. I googled the app and found that it was rife with porn offers and other adult solicitations.

I responded,

“I don’t think your profile is legitimate. I think this is some type of scam. I’m out.”

I tagged his profile as phony but waited before I blocked any future messages. I wanted to see if he responded. I located the real model on Facebook and left him a simple message on his fan page that someone was impersonating him on OKCupid.

I got absolutely no response from the Mr. Beautiful profile or the model he was impersonating. I doubt the real model even noticed my comment. He probably had someone manage his Facebook page for him. It was surprising though that whomever created the phony Mr. Beautiful account didn’t even try to plead innocence. I honestly expected an email like,

“Hey, I’m real. What are you talking about?”

My bet is when I called the scammer out on their deception they just deleted me and moved on. I’m sure they probably emailed dozens of women hoping some of them would take the bait.

When I started talking about this on my Facebook account, most of the comments I got were from men along the lines of

“So this happens to women too?”

My guy friends all had stories to tell of women from other countries seeking green cards, ladies asking for money and prostitutes posing as every day gals just looking for a date.

Of course an International male model could be on a dating site, even a free one, but the two Instagram accounts, the perfect match to his Wikipedia page and the insistence on using an outside application to communicate just screamed FRAUD.

I couldn’t help but think of the classic line regarding New York real estate

If it looks to good to be true, it probably is.

Meeting the face of Calvin Klein fragrance on a free dating website is about as likely as finding a one-bedroom in the Upper East Side with a balcony, an eat in kitchen, and jacuzzi tub for $500 a month. I’m sure it could happen in some alternate universe but it’s highly unlikely.

Part of me wonders if Mr. Beautiful really did have a legitimate profile. Maybe I was just being too suspicious and we would have rode off into the sunset to have our painfully awkward first and only date. I think instead I dodged a bullet of requests for nude photos, an avalanche of dick picks, pornographic spam, unauthorized charges on my credit card, computer viruses, malware, identity theft or requests for money. I guess I’ll never know. HA! Whomever created the fake account wasn’t an idiot, but one of the many gifts I got from my difficult divorce was – NEVER TRUST ANYONE. Sure it causes me problems from time to time, but I’m much less likely to fall for a scam artist in an International model’s clothing. I still prefer a thinner guy with messy hair rather than a pretty boy with rock hard abs anyway. If someone wanted to dupe me, they would need to use a much more average looking guy who desperately needed to fill out his clothing. If he had a pair of specs on his face….it could be my undoing.

Related Articles

Dating After Divorce in a City of Sluts – (huffingtonpost.com)
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Follow me on Twitter https://twitter.com/JulietJeske

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March 2017

The Fourth Degree

Unite the Right Rally – The Death of Heather Heyer

May 2018

McInnes gets kicked off of Twitter

The next day – Thursday, October 25, 2018

Saturday, October 29th 2018

November 21, 2018

August 1st, 2019

October 22, 2019

November 19, 2019

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