Anthony ‘Dream’ Johnson is charging women $999 for the tedium of listening to him drone on and on during his upcoming much-hyped 22 Convention : Make Women Great Again.
Anthony ‘Dream’ Johnson is far from anybody’s dream though, just take a look at him, he’s a terrified Incel troll and a little boy, so what’s the happs girls? Why would any woman pay to listen to him?
Both Johnson and his hilarious 22 Convention are troll-baiting 101, ripped straight from the Trump coloring-in playbook (don’t worry Incels, there’s no difficult to read words included, just pics of women being grabbed…
B ack in the early 1990s, I worked for (what was then) the largest porn publishers in Europe and it taught me a whole lot about the sex industry, pushing boundaries, fetishes, interior decor, and well, people in general.
I stumbled across my new career pretty much by accident, after seeing an advertisement to work on a “radical” new magazine a company called Northern & Shell was launching . It was a porn mag for women, titled, imaginatively, “For Women”, which was purchased primarily — and not all that surprisingly — by gay men.
My cousin Karen found an old newspaper article about my gran and granddad’s golden wedding anniversary back in the 1970s, and she posted it online.
Karen’s kind and caring, she’s a total empath, she genuinely cares about people (blood-related or not) and right now she’s doing what she can to help and support others.
One of her numerous “rallying” techniques was to create a special family photo album on Facebook to help us feel more “together and loved” more connected in some way— even though we’re all living thousands of miles apart, and never know when, or if, we will…
My beautiful friend Bradley did two tours of Fallujah after predatory recruiters fed him a bunch of false promises and hope. His pre-existing emotional issues, stemming from a traumatic and difficult childhood, would have discluded him from serving usually, but the US Army was desperate for boots on the ground back then.
Bradley watched his best friend get blown-up by a roadside IED, he shot dead an innocent civilian during a chaotic and confusing house raid, then he was dishonorably discharged by the Army, following a fight with his sister’s boyfriend while he was on home leave. …
Harvey Weinstein’s guilty conviction was hailed as a “victory” for the #MeToo and #TimesUp movement, but was it really?
Am I the only woman who thinks it means shit, that he’ll likely squirm his way out of it, or into some cushy pretend prison pad scenario, and that nothing will actually goddamn change?
Weinstein hobbled his way into the courtroom on Monday 24th February 2020 for his day of reckoning.
I subjected myself to watching the Oscars last night — one, because I’m a passively suicidal masochist, and two, because I’m a word ho for hire.
Thankfully it was for my awesome and amazing friend Evan’s blog, (go show her some love and “like” her “Daily Candid News” Facebook page peeps — she rocks) and so she let me write my genuine thoughts, and in my own voice no less — so refreshing after the past few months of laboring in “content” writer for hire hell.
I’m rather proud of it actually…. I know nobody bothers to even read past…
They prey on people who are down on their luck, or easily exploitable for whatever reason. They steal and they pollute the atmosphere by producing utter junk purely for their own personal financial gain. They’re effectively throwing their plastic content into the media ocean and polluting minds.
Fuck them, and the horse they (probably stole) to ride in on.
This is the “resignation” letter that I sent earlier today to one of the many offending companies—a super shady and unethical Israeli company called “Wazimo”.
A bad company’s greatest asset is its silent staff (and freelancers). …
Any of my friends who know me (on Medium it’s usually just my one and only reader, Mandini Popstar — love you babes!) will be aware of how much I’ve struggled over the past year.
Truth is, in reality, I’ve actually struggled way, way more than anybody really knows. So it was a monumentally huge thing for me to post an invite on the “Foreigners in Oaxaca” FB group and invite anybody who had nowhere to go into my home for Christmas Day.
My trust and faith and hope had been pretty much destroyed — and that had literally been…
I woke up today to the news that one of my best friends died last night.
Gregory Feazell was found dead in a cheap hotel room in Acapulco after overdosing on heroin.
He was 38-years old.
I first met Greg on a Facebook group, when we got into a very “spirited” debate about Acapulco, where I was about to move to and he had lived in, on and off, since relocating there from Texas with his mom at the age of 12.
The debate ended with us agreeing to meet in person when I arrived, and Greg, along with his…
I hate being bi-polar….it’s awesome! Not really. UGH
At the beginning of this year, I had a nervous breakdown.
It occurred for a variety of reasons, including amongst a host of others, a violent end to a 2-year-long toxic relationship, a hideous sexual assault by a “fake” taxi driver, the death of one of my dogs, the loss of my remote working job and all income, and the death of a child I had become very close to while working as a residential social worker in an English “care” home for girls many years ago.
Maxine Page is a Brit-born ex-tabloid editor who spent 16-yrs selling her soul to Hollywood. Now she lives in Oaxaca—travels, writes, paints & makes weird shit