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                   LATEST CELEB/NEWS MEDIA BLOG MAG UPDATE (3.20.15













she couldn’t wait to get back home (to her secret). 


Two days later, I guess she felt it was time to remove her mask-she and all involved. Sunday, August 22nd, I was lurking in the room but watching television in my own virtual world. All of a sudden the nickname “Bravo19” came in.

Bravo had asked me about a week before this particular day, if (he/she) could personally introduce (him/her self) to me each time (he/she) came into the room and I simply responded: “Yeah, sure, I don’t mind,” but didn’t think anything of it. I guess they wanted me to merely remark and bookmark the nickname in my head [for this day].

After “Bravo19” came in, crazy “Brie” I.M’ed me, telling me that she was making one of her famous parfaits while she talked about school and Emeril Lagasse and such. (Of course Janet revealed herself from behind “Brie” ions ago which too, was the last time we talked under her “Brie” nickname) so I was trying to figure out what was going on-because I knew something was about to happen-some kind of new reveal, because she hadn’t used “Brie” in like forever.

The next nicknames (one after the other) came in-like roll call:

Welcome New User {LittleBit}: authorized

I said aloud to myself: “Ok, that’s Shawn. I already know that.” Next to come down:

Welcome New User {Drama}: authorized

I said aloud to myself again: “Ok that’s Shawn’s other nickname, too. I already know that. And?”

Meanwhile, in I.M off to the side with me, “Brie” logged out without saying goodbye, then “Dunk” (Janet’s real/public nickname) traded places with “Brie” and came down in the room:

Welcome New User {Dunk}: authorized

…Ok, so there’s Janet-I knew for sure something was about to go down now. Next to come down:

Welcome New User {Rix}: authorized

I said aloud to myself: “Ok, that’s Rix-Janet’s digerati king. I already know that, now what?”Next to come down:

Welcome New User {LV}: authorized

I said aloud to myself, again: “Ok, that’s Louisa-Janet’s digerati queen. I already know that, and?” Next to come down:

Welcome New User {Lissa}: authorized

(If they could have, they would have dropped her “Poet”) nickname down but of course, it was currently in use-and we needed that...after they get done with whatever it was they were trying to do here…

I said aloud to myself, again: “Ok, that’s LissFOSD (a.k.a Miss: “ ‘FOSD’ Not to be Confused with Falling Off Slippery Dicks I Manage To Stay on Those”). I knew it! I knew she was in on this with Janet’s Team. But still...what the fucks going on?” I wondered.

For me, it only confirmed-for sure-that Lissa was a part of this setup just like I always thought because on that January 21st day that I left Janet’s room (right after she, Shawn, and Louisa dissed me); from the very moment I peeped back in to the room that first again on that early March day, Lissa hopped right on me like she was on a mission.

Mission accomplished the day she sent that email to me (with the virus attached) on that March 8th day.

Mission accomplished the day she hopped on I.M with me that March 10th day and set up Janet’s digerati’s “Packet-Sniff Her Computer Files So I Can Find Out Everything I Need to Know About Her Before I Hook Up with Her” poison).

Mission discovered July 21-the day after Janet’s digerati retrieved the first 13 pages of the chronology and Lissa (along with the rest of them) circled around me and came at me to (indirectly) let me know what they “found me doing.”

Mission discovered (again) on the day they sent her undercover to “clarify” something I said [within the contents of our I.M conversation] that because of; I ended up kirking out on Lissa (via email) for keeping drama up between Janet and I and she called my phone to leave a message-bitching me out-stating that no one “unnecessary” knew what was going on [between Janet and me].

Lissa was on my radar too because there had also been comments about her wearing Janet’s “Pleasure Principle” hairstyle (like Janet’s hairstyle in the video). Talk was about how she was Janet’s niece or some relative of hers and how much she looked like her and all. I had also gathered she was an Aries born on or around April 17. I had my eye on her while she was sent on “Special Mission [Me-Angie].”

At any rate, I sat there and watched them all line up on the screen in cyber world looking as if they were 6 of the 12 constellations in alignment.

I started to post: “Clappppp!!! Ooook now I get it! ‘Bravo19’, is this why (a week ago) you asked if you could speak to me the next time you came in? Ok, bravo! Clap Clap-now what? Some kind of reveal is going on-but why. What’s up this time?”

I only thought to post that in my head because everybody just sat there quiet-still in alignment. Not one single word was posted behind their authorized nicknames. It was fucking weird. I was wondering if Rix was about to mess with my computer again. I was about to get mad at first, because I just didn’t know what to make of all of them coming down (in their official/real/public nicknames) from behind their countless other nicknames (that we would talk under).

I broke the ice and posted: “Oh my gosh, let me hold on to my computer!” 

All of a sudden, the nickname: “DigiTEK” came down.

(I remembered that name floating around the room since my meeting “Bravo19” a short while back.)

DigiTEK responded: “So funny how one could admit that they got played…”

I just sat there, knowing DigiTEK’s comment couldn’t have been because they thought all this time I didn’t know that all six of those “authorized” people were the ones behind the many nicknames on any given day I was in the room with Janet. We all knew that, so I didn’t respond, I just let “DigiTEK” have that one. I kept quiet because I thought back to the night when I was in the room with them for a second (when Janet was gone to the awards show that night), “DigiTEK” had made his entrance claiming to be a hacker, sending down language that looked something like this:

£ëä;êbð°zëDv,J:ì^µ8‰ÃDisÒ9iߦ€¥~Õ6ÃDcÔ ¯©ÅÊ?¨´‘’GMíÝ $Íìº/>6÷T?0Pû6­FÆÇ’Ô?‡ig¨‰EÀ¼ß


That day, I knew now for sure that “DigiTEK” was a part of her hired help but was only there playing around trying to be funny (for whatever reason-I did not know). I just sat there with my brows up wondering what the hell was going on and what they were going to do next.

We sat there trying to outstare one another. They won, because I just logged out and went to bed. I wasn’t taking any chances. I was all too used to Rix remotely doing magic on my computer for Janet and this time, I wasn’t having it.


The next evening I came in. She wasted no time.

“SAVVY” came down and stared, licking her lips slowly and seductively. I knew this was the seductress herself: that damned Janet. I shook my head and laughed to myself. She loved to get sexy and play-and it had been a while since we did. We fought so damned much, and so badly that I thought we were pretty much beyond repair and rapport.

She took a seat and placed her elbows on top of her legs-resting her head in the palm of her hands. A conversation was going on about the Internet and computers so I dropped down a quote for old-times sake: “If you embrace technology but do it blindly, you may find less freedom, not more…”

            The SAVVY one got up and walked over to me and spoke:

            “Cinamon. Hello Cinamon. How are you?”

            “Fine,” I said.

            “I know,” she responded.

            “LOL” I giggled. She didn’t laugh out loud, giggle, nor crack              a smile.

            I knew then that she was *W and ready.

            “I love how you so eloquently posted that quote,” she said.

            “Gee thanks, it is so very true,” I returned.

(She didn’t respond. She posted something for me in French that ended with something like “je suis amour avec toi.” I laughed and posted): 


            “Alls I know is that “avec toi”means: ‘with you!’ meaning: “Me!” with me?”


            (She still didn’t laugh, giggle, nor crack a smile). She replied:


“Cinamon. You are soooo very clever. You’ve played the game so well.” 

“Clever eh?” I replied. 

“Yes…very…I mean it…I love it…I’ve never in my life been sooo…sooo….romantic in here…” she said.

“Oh, in here? LoL” I responded, feeling like I had been the “lucky” (victim?).

She still wouldn’t laugh out loud, giggle, nor crack a smile.

“I.M me,” she said.

(I didn’t respond, because I assumed she wanted me to take my pick on which I.M nickname to use. But she was reaching in her bag o’tricks and pulled one out for me)  *drum roll*…ta daaaaaaa!!!!:

FEMMEHOUND…” she posted in caps and in bold letters.

My eyes stretched like a kid on Christmas morning:

“Dayyyyuuuum,” I said (to myself).  

“Do it NOW…” she demanded.

I could tell she wasn’t going to let me get away this time.

We went off to the side to whisper to each other in I.M.

“I want you Cinamon. I want all of you,” she said, immediately.

“When?” I asked.

She paused then responded: “Let’s see, right after Labor Day, because I’ll be totally free after then.”

“When is Labor Day?” I asked.

“September 6…any time after then, because I have to fly to Hawaii,” she said.

I just shook my head at this maniac and said:

“Oh okay that’s cool, because after the 29th of August I’m real free until almost the end of September, but you know anytime is time for you…LoL”

She still didn’t laugh, giggle nor crack a smile.

“I want you,” she reiterated and posted in bold.

“You can have me…do whatever-I’m yours. I won’t fight this anymore,” I submitted.

“*Sticking my tongue ring out.” she said.

“Where do you live?” she asked.

“Ok, I’m about to go!” I responded, because she was trying to f lip the game (she knew I hated that). “No, no…okay…I understand. LoL” she said.

I didn’t laugh (or crack a smile)…

“Ok I understand,” she reiterated.

“I’m telling you now…” I warned her-so as to let her know that I was going to log off if she couldn’t trust me and if the game playing shit would begin.

“I know,” she said…with her shoulders up, trying hard not to piss me off again.

We had been through this time and time again despite the fact we all knew Janet and me were both on some “Mr.-and-Mrs.-Smith-We-Love-One-Another-But-We’re-On Assignment-and-On-Guard-to-Kill-One-Another-at-Any-Moment” type shit. Me: With the chronology of which they were in possession of the first 13 pages while watching me complete. She and her digerati: Ready to detonate upon infiltration and come out leaving no traces of footsteps or stains.   

She continued: “You wanna know what I look like?” she asked.

I didn’t respond because I knew she only threw that out there to prepare to “un-describe” herself for this I.M conversation’s record. It was crazy how she wanted to keep talking and get us together, but still playing  everything like playing with fire. If you’re in you’re in, if you’re out you’re out. These were the kinds of things that kept me away from her and treating her badly. “If I’m transparent totally on record, you have to, too. I’m just as important as you bitch,” was my thinking (and expressing). I refused to leap to her on whispers, clues, footprints in the sand and connect-the-dot-to get to that cock. Shid. I was not budging. Whatever she wanted from me-on record, if she didn’t do that same (for this printable record), she was not going to be hounding this femme.

She dropped the description:

“I got long ass hair, about 3/4th’s Caucasian, but I look more black. I have light eyes and I’m very fit,” she said.

I replied by throwing this out there: “Oh. Like Janet in the “Everytime” video huh?

(I dared her ass to reject that and switch up on me).

She didn’t, but she was in no mood to play around either.

She and I was like a sweet poison to one another-like some strange concoction developed in a lab by some mad scientist who hadn’t completed the potion and because of, every time it was mixed, it would combust-that was us. It was crazy. We needed to get this fuck off our chest or we were going to explode-the both of us. I never experienced anything like this-this sexual angst, she hadn’t either. Me: Making her take her time unlike (because of who she is) she wasn’t used to being forced to do. Her: Going through the fire, to the limits through the wall, for the chance to be with me, would gladly risk it all.

It was very scary for the both of us, but we needed to get this thing up, and on.

She was ready to get this showdown locked in before yet another fight would start. It seemed inevitable, and we tried hard to avoid our fights because we really wanted one another badly. But it was like this strong  shaking magnetic force bringing us together yet, this other force would keep wiggling us apart: My intimidation versus her paranoia. I could always handle her in our normal conversations-even when we were romantic and nonsexual. She seemed to be intimated by me when we would talk about life and regular subjects-regular conversation. She was always afraid that she sounded stupid, and I would have to peel her apart gently-to relax.

We could meet in the middle when we would talk romantic and nonsexual, or when we would be silly together. But she had a way about her when she would get into another kind of sexual “her”—it was like a whole other person, she could be verrrryyyyy intimidating…like in this next conversation-this was one of those times. It was like reverse, where, she would have to peel me apart to get me to relax.

She continued:

*Looking at U. So shall I fly down? Do you live in a house or apartment?” asked the Femmehound.

“*Deep sigh. Looking at u…” I replied, with my brow up-knowing that she already knew everything: where I lived, my dwelling, and all that. I was ready to start the fight and she knew my brow was raised. 

“LOL!” she said.                                                                                                                   

“I’m just kidding. I’ll fly you out here. I have a big house in the hills of California…” she said-truthfully.

I responded: “I need complete privacy in order to work my special brand of magic…”

“I’m definitely going to give you that…” she promised. 

“No one can see me?” I asked.

“No, not even the raccoons,” she assured me.

“ No one can hear me?” I asked, coyly.

“No one, I promise,” she assured me. I knew she was getting aroused. She was such a sexual maniac.

“No one can smell…while you follow the trail…to wet tail…Femmehound?” I asked seductively with my one brow up.

“Oh Cinamon, you turn me on so…” she gasped seductively, yearning as if she had stomped her foot like a spoiled child.

“LoL” I giggled and smiled.

“I want your everything,” she demanded.

“I want to have you on the beach, in the park, in the car. I want strawberries, honey, whipped cream. I want it outside, anywhere anytime…anyplace...I want spontaneity. I want intimacy from you. I want everything,” she demanded, with her brow up-SERIOUSLY.  

“Greedy is an understatement,” I thought to myself about this self-confessed greedy, lusty, and selfish woman. If she were a line out of a song it would be: I’ve been hurting for a long time. And you’ve been playing for a long time. You know it’s true. I’ve been holding for a long time. And you’ve been running for a long time. It’s time to do. Oh what we have to do / She says her love is much too deep for what her lover hasn’t heard. But what she doesn’t realize is that I’ve listened to every word. That’s why I’m gonna tell her that I love her. And I want her. And my mind and soul and body needs her. Tell her that I’d love to. And I want to. And I need to do all that I have to, to be in her love,” because I thought about the contents of Denise’s and my conversation on the phone that Friday August 20th night again. We were talking about intimacy and oral-sex and I told her that kissing was more intimate to me than oral sex  (something she never knew I felt). I told her that I could count on my hands how many people I had kissed in my life-kissing was special to me, especially passionate, deep, open-mouth kissing-that is for real love.

She (Janet-“overhearing”) had also been briefed on how I feel about spontaneity, and how it had to be earned with me. She felt like she had already earned it and wanted it all.

Janet knew just what to say in this cybersexion as if she pre-planned it with a checklist. I imagined her stating her list of things she was going to take from me while she looked at me as if I had better not buck (which is what I knew she meant when this lustful, selfish, and greedy woman said: “I want you. I want everything”). 

I already knew that she is the type who would see to it that I not hold back on nothing that she had hunted and gathered, or read [or heard me say was off limits]; she knew she would be the exception to all my rules: mentally, emotionally and sexually. This moment had been too long a time coming, and she was double-checking, twice, her long list of all things she knew about me that made me naughty and nice. She’s methodical and premeditated like that-in every way. She does not play. Janet is a mechanical human being about everything. She paid attention to everything. I thought about the time in the room we were talking sexual (in third person), and I said: “Me and my woman are gonna fuck so hard that the world is gonna feel it.” I knew at this moment she was ready for me to put my body where my mouth was. So this maniac femmehound was going to see to it that I backed up everything I had ever said (in addition to everything she “overheard”).

“I’m aggressive in the bedroom and I want passion, I want all your passion…” she gripped.

I then replied with lyrics from one of my favorite classics: “Back and forth, raging scenes of lust I want you madly can’t you tell? Can’t you tell?  Can’t you tell? Oh, take me in your arms oh baby. Ifthe crime was death I’d rather die, here in your, screams of passion…”

“I know that you are hard to please, but I’m gon’ work you…” she said confidently and slowly. I know she folded and bit her lips when she said that-I know her well.

“No, it’s just a front. Trust me. I’m easy to please. I’m relaxed and easily stimulated. You already know how to get me started…LoL.” I replied.

“Oh my gosh, I’m getting so wet now thinking about it. I know you are wet right now aren’t you?” she asked.

 “Oh Yes,” I replied.

“Touch it for me” she instructed.

“*Touching it…smelling it. It smells so good.” I responded.

“I know it does, ooh you turn me on so,” she said-yearning.

“Oooh you turn me onnn. You do everything that brings out the fire in me, like I fantasize about,” I confessed.

“I’d taste it for you, in the heat of a moment as we kiss,” I said.

“And then I’m gonna put my tongue down your throat” she said (knowing-from “overhearing” mine and Denise’s conversation where I told Denise how I feel about kissing being more intimate than oral sex). This maniac wanted to make sure she had permission to take everything I felt was sacred. She did not want to be left out.

“In the moment-you can,” I returned-to assure her. 

“I’m gonna put my tongue down your throat and you’re gonna sit on my face right?”she asked.

“Yes, in the heat of the moment,” I gulped, she caught me by surprise.

“I got nine and a half inches of strap for you…” she bragged (again). 

“You gon’ work it?” I asked, softly and seductively.

“Hell yeah…we’re gonna marothon fuck,” she said-confidently.

“You know what that is?” she asked.

“Marathon fuck?” I responded.

She got intimidated:

“Thanks for correcting my spelling,” she said, as if I was about to spoil the mood.

“No, no, no, no, I wasn’t trying to be funny. What is it though, is what I’m asking?” I replied-feeling way too aroused to have the mood spoiled.

“It’s non-stop fucking. It’s better than the best work out you could ever have,” she said.

“I think I can work with that. *opening my legs to let you watch insertion. Moaning slowly-every inch in. Do you want me to stretch my legs wide open or wrap them around you to grip you tight?” I asked.

“Ah grip me tight, grip me tight,” she breathed hard and said.

“I want you to see it and hear it talk to you…If you hit my spot…oooh…I bet you I wet you,” I whispered shyly.

“Oh I’m gonna find it,” she challenged-confidently.

Her sexual confidence was unmatched, I must say. It had been a quite a few weeks since we had a cybersexsion and I was noticing she had been brushing up on her already potent sexual skills so I was feeling a little intimidated at this point but I was hanging in there and ready for her aggressive ass:

“You like manual stimulation?” she asked.

“Yes, you gonna be doing it while you’re inside of me? It’s gon’ be slipping and sliding. You gon’ try to hold on to my clit while you play with it?” I asked.

“I’m gonna find your spot. I know I can…” she said with extra confidence.

She already knew my vaginal anatomy-every curve and cavity. So she was preparing her mission in her head-most probably remembering all too well; those nudies and close up vaginal shots she got from me by merely asking for them. I loved her. So I did it. And it made her so happy-and us closer. I could see the picture in her mind-I know her. She could see getting to my spot like x-ray vision through the phone, but until she got a hold of me, the pictures would have to do. In the middle of our moment, I didn’t tell her, but only one person could make that happen to me-and I thought he was magic for it too. I didn’t want her to feel too challenged in a “slim to none” kind of way. I wanted her just like she was: challenged in a “ready to go” kind of way. So I kept that secret. It added to my excitement, my anticipation-those butterflies in my stomach traveling down to my cooter knob making it throb had me going. I couldn’t wait. I loved her sexual arrogance. I knew if she was going to be any good at finding my spot; that would make her a motherfucking magician. And we were already magic. So make my rabbit purrr dammit! 

“Okay, when you do, you’ll know. It’ll skeet right out on you…” I replied.

“You promise?” she asked-seductively.

“I promise.” I responded. 

“While you’re fucking me, I want to you hold me down by my waist and stomach so I can’t move, then I want you to fuck me harder and harder like you just don’t care. You know I like it hard, but grind it like you mean business.” Just hurt me ‘til it feels good,” I asked.

“Ooooh. I’m gonna do it too. I’m strong. Real strong and fit. Very fit…LoL,” she said (bragging).

“Oooh I’m loving you,” I confessed and stressed in bold-something I hadn’t told her in a long time.

“You had better not try to move cause I’m gonna get the cuffs out on you,” she said sadistically-planning and preparing me for some S&M.

“Promise?” I asked softly.

“PROMISE” she confirmed (in caps-meaning that shit). Now down to business.

She demanded to know some concrete answers no...she needed a (one) concrete answer: WHEN:

“Alright then, when?” she said, quickly-stressing “when” in bold letters.

She wasn’t having no games this time.

I replied:

“Well, with you…we will have to cross that bridge when we get to it around the 6th.” ...I said, knowing how crazy we could be fighting in like hours or a day after getting me comfortable. It was insane how that would happen, and mostly because of her buddies arousing too much unnecessary suspicion. If Mrs. Smith sat her gun down, I dropped mine. When she picked hers up-well, so did I. It was the name of the game. We could fight viciously like it was the end and we both could care less. Then the next day we could be on again and stuck like glue. Even at this particular moment in time, she knew that I had started the chronology and she was in possession of the first 13 pages, but still-she wanted this thing we had to happen. That made me happy, because then I wouldn’t have to be bothered with the nuisance of completing it, and more importantly, she and I could be together-happily (like we both wanted)-that was the plan from the start.

She continued:

“LoL… I’m serious. Real serious,” she stressed in bold.

“I need to know if you are you ready for this relationship?” she questioned-sealing the deal to end all bullshit (mine and hers).

“Yes, yes, I am-real ready,” I assured her-seriously. I was so happy.

“Ok” she confirmed with ellipsis and her brows up as if to say: “don’t play with me.”

“I’m soooo embarrassed. I aint never coming back to the room,” I said to her; thinking about how everybody was probably reading on, too.

“No, don’t do that-why silly?” she asked.

We just laughed…then she stopped laughing, took a deep breath, and paused as if to look me in the eyes (seriously) once again. She wanted to double-check:

“I don’t want my heart splattered all over the floor…” she warned-vulnerably.

I responded (seriously):




            She then disconnected from me.


I went over to the room and sat for a few minutes. I didn’t say anything to anybody. Nobody said anything to me either.

It was very quiet and still-screen just rolling.

I waited on her to come into the room or back in I.M.

No sign of her, so I told her team (whoever was watching) that I was going to go to bed because I was very drowsy.

I then I left. 

The next day (August 24th) I didn’t come in until almost four in the afternoon. What the hell did I wait that long to talk to her for? My goodness that was a federal crime, especially after last night.

I had lots to do that next day, but I was both nervous to talk to her and rushing to start my day-running late. We seemed to be at a different level after last night. I was happy as hell, but nervous too. This was it. We were finally about to do it right and I just didn’t know how to handle it. I wanted to get my important day out the way and come back home to process her (and this new level) all over again. I knew if I talked to her first (especially after last night) even if I logged onto I.M for five minutes, she would take over my mind for the whole day. I needed a clear head for what I had to do. And there was no guarantee I could log on for five minutes and that five minutes not turn into one hour, then two hours or three-and I end up missing what I had to do (that had happened many times before, too).

Back in the room later this afternoon, “SAVVY” got her chime telling her I was there.

She came in right behind me.

I spoke to her and though she spoke back, she gave me a weird feeling.

“What happened to you last night girl?” she stressed and italicized-like a bully.

“Why did you leave? I had gotten disconnected, but I came back in looking for you. Where did you go?” she demanded to know. I could feel her tyranny coming on-I could just feel it.

“Well actually I thought that was your sign...(that you had to leave). I went over to the chat room to see if you were there. I made mention that I was sleepy and was going to go right to bed. I was sooooo sleepy. It was almost 11:30, you know I don’t mind talking dirty but I was soooo sleepy…LoL.” I sang my rendition of Ginuine’s “So Anxious.” She knew I loved that song and had been playing it a lot (on my computer’s CD Rom). But she did not give a damn right now though, she was pissed. She didn’t laugh with me, nor was she in any mood for *Wickedness at least not that kind: “Yeah, LoL. Um Cin did I meet you in here Thursday or Friday of last week?” asked this savvy one-back to playing games again (knowing I would be getting pissed off in: 1-2-3...).

I knew some kind of shit was about to start. She only came down (in the room) as “SAVVY” to remind me of the previous day when she first came down as “SAVVY” (but then sent me to meet her over in I.M under her: “FEMMEHOUND” name-and we solidified everything). But instead, she was ready to fight under SAVVY (to hell with “FEMMEHOUND” today. I could feel her anger.

I knew yesterday, her goal was for us to seal the deal on this thing we had and needed to make sure I was for real this time. She knew all this time I really was ready and serious-but I could tell now, this time for different for her than all the times before. In all these months for most of all the seven days, yes, we talked at the start of every day-no matter what I had to do. She was always available (because she was mobile-I wasn’t). There have been a few times-just a literal few-when I left the house in the mornings and carried on with my day, then got back with her in the afternoon and it wasn’t a problem. But this time—noooo she wasn’t having it.

When she had gotten disconnected last night (especially considering the very timely moment-after we sealed the deal and were coming to a close) I really did think she was told to purposely disconnect from me. She wasn’t trying to hear that though. We were back to the drawing board yet again…ugh. She was wayyyy too paranoid. It was crazy-too much over caution where (understandably) our communication had to be on her turf where they could control things, versus mobile (on my end); but my life sometimes did not permit me to tend to that (and a very few sometimes I might add). I typically cooperated and made time for her-always, and her under her terms and time zones-from wherever she would be in or out of the state or country, always. None of that mattered this day. Again, today was a different. She treated it like I pulled a complete disappearing act on purpose-like totally rejecting her + running off to show the world our Certificate of Relationship.

Next, the nickname “DAPEACOCK” came down and posted a hug to me: “((bigmoufgirl)).” I knew it was Lissa because she always made up names like “alotavagina”-and stuff like that to post right after Janet and I would cyberfuck. This time, “Dapeacock” was a silly name for a description of the way I spoke about opening my legs to accommodate SAVVY the FEMMEHOUND when we cyberfucked the previous night. I also looked at what she posted within the hug:  “((bigmoufgirl)).” That’s when I knew they thought I called the paparazzi and flew out the door with my Certificate of Relationship. I tried explaining to her how I simply went to sleep, I went straight to sleep-that’s it. I then listed what I did throughout that next day to explain why I hadn’t come back until four in the afternoon knowing that for her, the time between 11:30 p.m. (when we got disconnected) and 4 p.m. the next day (when I returned) was far too long for any good explanation I could give her. It just did not fly with her, so she continued on-trying to find a way out of her “SAVVY” “costume.” This femme hound gave two shits about hounding the femme in me at this point. Mrs. Smith picked her gun back up:

“So are you going to tell me when was the very first time I said anything to you?

Was it last Thursday or Friday?” she asked-needing to get this conversation on record (for some reason of theirs). I knew that regardless whatever day I picked, she was going say something stupid-for fear that I had been doing something sneaky like they obviously thought. When I mentioned Thursday, she said: “Oh yeah, well I had the wrong person. The person I met named Cinamon was on Friday and you aint her…”

I shook my head some more and sarcastically said:

“Yeah well it was me then, because we did chat on Friday too Hun.”

“Well, I have the wrong person, bye…” she said. She rushed out.

I think when she got disconnected from me in I.M the previous night, it must have frozen everything on their end-even in the room. I guess “what had happened was”: Rix was probably trying to do his thing and I was probably supposed to get kick out and disconnected too, but instead-my computer stayed on, Janet and all theirs got kicked out though. Call it that good omen miracle, or a strategic mole on her team having done it on purpose (to help me?), but I definitely wasn’t supposed to get a hold of that I.M conversation we had last night. This particular time was one of the “Ghost”-like moments where like throughout this situation, things like that would occur and make me feel like I scored…like I gained some ground in this-happenings, and things placed right in front of my eyes-all orchestrated by that higher power nudging me to let me know that there would be an end and a light through this lonnggg dark tunnel, no matter how long it takes. Because I already knew we were about to go to war-all over again, like last night never happened. I knew that she was unstrapping that 9 1/2 inches from out that harness, and I had better be strapping up my boots, because (yet again), this was about to blow up. 

I knew if she didn’t infiltrate this moment for my coming in so late into the afternoon the next day, she definitely infiltrated because of our I.M conversation. Because when we got disconnected last night, I did find it odd that her buddies’ (nicknames) were all there but not one single conversation was going on when I entered.  No one said anything to me when I came in. No one said anything to me when I told them I was going to go to bed. And no one said anything to me when I was leaving. So they already know they drill: that was well over enough time for me to save mine and Janet’s “FEMMEHOUND” I.M conversation but what else was new? They knew I was going to save it if something weird happened. Any kink would make me clink and I would save it to the “bullshit” disc. Little did she and they know, had that sudden disconnect not have happened and we would have exited the conversation normally, I would not have saved the conversation. There have been plenty of conversations (and emails) that I would not save when she and I would be on good terms. I would purposely try and show her (and them) that I was letting my guard down-to show her that I was trying to make this thing go right. The “FEMMEHOUND” conversation too, would have been one of those same unsaved conversations had she not disconnected so timely and suddenly. I didn’t know it was a mistake. By this time, I was programmed for their auto-fuckery. And kinks like that would send me right into action (just in case) so I saved it.

All things considered and having happened, they knew the “FEMMEHOUND” conversation was too obvious, and too “Janet and me.” Because they knew I [most probably] saved that one, so they tried to get her to pull out of the whole Savvy/Femmehound name altogether-and they needed to get it on record (just in case). 

I wasn’t up for the bullshit to keep rolling to a point that I was all too used to. This girl and her team drove me nuts. I tried so hard with her. I swear I tried. Nobody could make my head hurt like she could. She could make me physically tired and sick. It was exhausting. They never even gave me credit for the countless conversations that I didn’t save. They knew at any moment they decided to put all their guns down, I would gladly throw mine out the window. I too, just like her, wanted this thing to work out. I didn’t want drama. But they kept creating it with over-paranoia. It caused more problems than it helped them, or me and Janet. We (me and Janet) never kept us apart. Those things did. Those things caused fights, and all kinds of craziness. Then the more I would show that I was running away, the more they would turn it up-because they felt I was running away with too much and as far as Janet was concerned.

The good was good, but the bad was painful. It fucked my head up. After this especially, it was like she got to a point where she screamed with veins popping out of her head: “I’m SICK of her! Do everything short of killing her!”…slammed the door, then from there; the madness began-for a lonngggg time before they got humble (and we got happy again).

The irony is, at some point, they would have turned up no different whether there was any conversation saving, a chronicle of details turned book or not. I assure you. How can I say that and be so sure? I’ll tell you why. Because it was eight months of craziness from them that made me get defensive and cautious, and in turn, forced me to start chronicling everything yet, even knowing that I was doing that, that never changed what Janet and I were doing-at all. So knowing that I was saving and chronicling (just in case), and it wasn’t enough to make her leave me alone, then what reason would they have had to still not be so over cautious had I not started chronicling-any different than they were doing even before I decided to start chronicling? They had every opportunity in this to chill, and they knew I would chill too-but they chose not to. Had I not chronicled, it definitely would have been worse (for me), especially knowing that she and I would be at this all these years that we were. Janet had the determination, persistence, and the grip of a lion and a pit bull mixed.

Nobody in this world can convince me that there is another human being alive that can match her tenacity-nobody. With countless ups and downs to date, it’s 2013 and I say that as I write that. So trust me. I know that I’m talking about when I say that.

I just took a deep breath, rolled my eyes, and walked out of the room without announcing my departure. Yessssss, I promised myself that was the very last time I was ever going to fool with her again. I was so deliriously desperate to convince myself that I would stay true to that, that I decided to take my