Human Garbage of GFY!!!

We are bad at business. We move out to a new city without any contract and sit on our thumbs waiting for our only potential client to call and give us business. When he did, we had a death in the family and expected every business to cease all their plans and wait till we were ready to start producing content again. When this company didn't care about our personal problems and only cared about their own families, employees, affiliates, etc and dropped us, we were left with nothing. Now we are crying on GFY and making up stories about cable TV shows to boost what little self esteem we have left.

MCP - for the record, based on my own personal experiences, I just want to let you know I believe you

Since Thursday, Belinda has been in Los Angeles at an adult industry convention known as Webmaster Access West. Industry conventions are great places to network and acquire new business, but the highlights of these conventions and the reason so many people attend are the elaborate parties that continue until 4am each day. This particular event culminates in the mother of all parties: a night at the Playboy Mansion for those lucky enough to receive an invitation.

It saddens me that Belinda's there, surrounded by people who pretend to be her friend while speaking face to face or while intoxicated, yet don't really give a crap about her at any other time. The two of us have attended numerous conventions all over the country. That after-party letdown still exists while together, but it's dulled by being there with someone who loves you.

This time she's there alone, with nobody to truly care about her when the party subsides. She's called a few times and admitted to feeling depressed anytime there's "nothing going on".

I emailed her a few days ago:

All of those "fun" things are temporary fulfillments of permanent problems. I know you have a hard time understanding why I'd give everything up to follow something I ridiculed for so long. What you don't know is that Jesus fills that void for me. Once I surrendered myself to him he became so real. Up until the point of surrender it's impossible to realize how nice it is to just accept him. It's really a warm feeling inside. Even on bad days, it feels good to be free of the business.

She's been attending "after parties" in the suite of one of Playboy's Vice Presidents. I went on to write:

It's so "great" to hang out with the bigwigs from Playboy but none of those people truly care about you, and you'll hardly cross their mind until you meet them again at the next show or send them a content package. Think about this for a minute: a bit of attention from them, a handshake and a few hours of hanging out drinking buys them your devotion for the rest of the year.

They don't have to recruit the models and feel the guilt when daddies no longer want to speak with their daughters, because we do that for them. They're insulated from the human toll it takes for them to make a living. They buy that insulation from you and I with a few thousand dollars per model and a handshake at a show.

I doubt they'd have the back bone to take a phone call from a crying girl.