So here's the thing: David reached out to me last week, supposedly expressing interest in squashing our long standing beef.
Now, I know what you're thinking. But for some reason I thought to myself, hey, give the guy a chance to explain himself, and an opportunity to tell his side of the story.
Little did I know he would go on to tell me every graphic detail of his sexual encounters with Space Meow Maid. He avoided the subject so many times, stalling, building up to their time together-- and truthfully, some of it made me laugh. He's definitely got the gift of the gab, and quite a sense of humour. No. I'm not laughing at a rape victim. Nice try! What I refer to is the awkwardness of their supposed first meeting, in real life. Super fucking awkward.
But the strangest part about my whole interaction with him was how quickly he opened up and was ready to spill the beans. I'm not gonna lie and say he didn't have me going there for a while, because he framed it all in such a way that it seemed honest.
That doesn't mean I believed him fully, nor that I automatically considered him a friend. Not at all. This guy was so damn quick to jump to a myriad of conclusions, and what began to concern me was what I was possibly attaching myself to. Even though I gave him no indication that I was interested in doing so. I was solely open to having a dialogue. That's it.
Let me get this straight. I did ask him to come on to an Azzcast, so we could go over the details, iron out any creases in his version of the truth, and I was almost prepared to accept the consequences of associating with him on some level.
The thing is, our time zones are pretty different, and I just wasn't prepared to stay up all night in South Africa to accomadate this clown. So I said, hey, man, lets do something of a rain check.
This was obviously the first in a series of perceived slights, and my reluctance toward becoming his little underling and sidekick was probably the nail in the coffin.
Pretty soon I realised that this guy doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about, admitted that he wasn't a real broadcaster, and essentially was nothing but a clout chasing boomer who continues to ride Art Bell's coattails.
I am not scared of any of the threats that will inevitably arise from me being truthful about this whole fiasco, as I've dealt with it in spades all the way up until this point for 2 years plus.
He's gonna go back to calling me gay, a midget, a transvestite, a this, a that-- but he also said he knew I wasn't any of those things to me on the phone, expounding that his allegations of me being a paedophile were merely attempts at "giving me a taste of my own medicine." i.e. My belief in the past, that he did indeed rape Space Meow Maid.
I didn't record our calls-- maybe he did, but I also wasn't desperate to keep anything I spoke about with him on the phone private. In short, anything I went on record saying, I have a clear conscience about, and will stand by and explain or contextualise down the line.
I'm not getting involved in the rape allegations again. That event, and whatever happened between he and Space Meow Maid simply isn't my business. It was a huge mistake of me to even insert myself into the whole thing in the first place. But I did it from what I believed was a good place at the time.
I am an open book. And I'm not scared of whatever's coming down the pike from here on out. But I just thought I'd go on record and say, that somebody who switches between hatred and lovebombing as quick as David does is probably deeply disturbed, mentally.
I felt, the few times we spoke-- or, rather, he galloped a thousand miles a minute, while I sat there with the phone to my ear, that this fellow obviously doesn't know how to slow down, and rationally, calmly approach any subject, without making it an all-or-nothing, black and white issue.
I like to think of myself as a peacemaker the more I age. I don't invite grudges and drama into my real life. What you hear on my podcast is a performance. Half the things I'm rattling off are for the sole purpose of entertaining my fan base. One which is small, but diehard.
And I'll tell you something else. This individual does so much talking and complicates the process of creative expression to such a severe degree that he neuters any real opportunity to create anything of lasting value.
He's been talking about what he's gonna do for years. This isn't me betraying his trust, either, by the way. He was incapable of keeping the peace for more than 48 hours total. He winds up here posting the same old garbage hashtags and flooding the board with YouTube videos like an asshat. The bottom line is he's got no content. I, on the other hand am the king of all content. I'm digital. I've got my finger in all aspects of the arts: visual art, podcasting, written media and even video slash animation. I'm a multimedia powerhouse who built a forum from scratch and grew my members list slowly and steadily. There's nothing I can't do. And I'm at the 325th episode mark of my self-produced show. While he's done nothing.
Anyway, here's an interesting occurance. I had this terrible bout of exhaustion over the weekend. I thought it was a wave of my regular, cyclical episodic clinical depression. But, you know what? The days I got so ill I wasn't able to do anything else other than sleep, guess who I was on the phone with? Yeah. David. Quite the psychic vampire, no?
You shoulda heard how upset and emotionally distraught he was at what people on this site and the other BellGab spinoffs thought, wrote and said about him. Fuck me. 50 years old and crying about this bullshit? How desperate for approval have you gotta be?
I have dirt on you, doggy. And I know why you bought that new phone. Because you were planning to pull the switcheroo and knife me in the back all along. I'm not in the least bit intimidated or concerned about what you have in store for me, either. I've said it a couple times now.
Because I have nothing to hide, see? I'm out there. I'm public with it. And you're the one who allowed your paranoia and distrust to get the better of you. Imagine being this insecure! You did me dirty, David. You turned the tables and made it get ugly again. Now you can face the consequences you brought on yourself.
All these pieces of shit claiming to be believers; followers of Christ. What a crock! Oh. And, all your theories about which user of this site (and others) is pretending to be that user etcetera. An utter waste of time. How would I fucking know if X is Y and A is B? Sure, I'm admin here, but I have no interest whatsoever in prying into people's IP addresses or whatever else. I RESPECT the privacy of those who have given me the benefit of the doubt and courtest of joining my little community. And, I wouldn't want to jeopardise that.
You, on the other hand, David...You are consumed by so much inconsequential nonsense that SAD is the only way to put it. I had a 'no ban' policy here for a while, but I refuse point blank to give the keys of my condo to such a bitter little bastard such as yourself.
So do me a favour and FUCK OFF back to your half-arsed, heavily insulated spite site with hundreds of fake accounts. The time you must've poured into spoofing all those people-- trying to bloat the numbers...an outright counterfeit operation all for optics. So gay!
Master Trollda is right as rain. You're boring. For the short few hours I was a RubiniGabber, I saw with my own 2 peepers that EACH AND EVERY "account" listed in the "last online" bar was a FRAUD. Didn't exist!
You're up shit creek without a paddle if you want to step in the ring with me this go round, dude. I WILL FUCKING END YOU. I know you got the popo on speed dial, too. Fall back! Undercover Fed, since day #1.
OUTY.
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