Anyone here who ISN’T a scammer?

Try Mar a Largo.

Piss off.

Due Process.

Approaching Christmas is always very difficult for me, choosing presents, particularly.

I never know whether to buy the latest celebrity ghost-written autobiography, or that Perfume made from David Beckham’s anal glands…

Like a three year old, you mean?

Is there actually anyone here that isn’t from 7th Avenue?

No thanks.

Why I write:

“I have never been so affected, so touched as I have just been reading this poem. The words are so beautiful, I could cry. It's made my heart pound with emotion. Just as I was thinking there's no point…” - Zoe

Not a clue.

I don’t know what that means, but ok.

I love women.
Everything about them.
Their independence, their astonishing creativity, their flair, their intelligence, their beauty, their incredible work, and yes because I also fall in love…

And hopefully will forever remain so.
Sorry, I have to deal with about 50 women with their tits out trying to hookup or scam me.
Catch up tomorrow?

When you learn how to spell, do get back to me.

That’s probably because I don’t have a Zangi number, where illegal activities such as prostitution can’t be reported. Sorry…

Sorry not to ask you for nudes and I’m sorry that you found that so disgusting, but some of us aren’t interested…

No thanks.

No thanks.

Who’s Bridget?

No, why?

Sorry to disappoint you - you’re not my type…

Let’s just pray they find oil there.
Then the powers will descend…

Just wondering if there’s anyone on BlueSky who isn’t a scammer, hooker, or both.
Been here a year now as a social experiment, and have had nothing but…

Don’t like implants

I’m not working at the moment, but continue to recieve emails from companies wanting me to help them out.

Instead of saying “maybe you should have paid me properly and on time”, now I just say “Not my circus. Not my monkeys…”

They don’t like that.
But I do…

I’m not sure what to say here sometimes, but I do know that we’re heading into a new fascist era, unless we stop it now.
Because tomorrow will be too late…

If I could only hold and keep thee in my mind’s eye,
As my feet trudge weary through another endless day,
All before me would be softly moonlit paths,
The owl’s cry, and the scent of harvest hay…

Interesting to be contacted by so many people, to whom if I don’t reply within an hour, block me.
A sure red flag…

“Somewhere in North America, a young Hispanic girl is hiding in an attic and writing a diary…”

He always tries his best!