The last saw time I saw Big M was a little over 2 months ago. I was heading back East. Even though the last day we had a huge blow out we managed to remain friends. Over the months we texted, used our vocal chords and Facebook IM. I still care for him and love him, even though he drives me crazy. I realize that no matter how I try to help him, if he won’t help himself get out of the mess he got himself into, no one can help him.
He calls me and tells he loves me and that I was the only one who was there for him when he needed help. He says he couldn’t have done it without me. I tell him that I love him and that I will always be there for him. He tells me he’s grateful that I’m in his life. His last words to me on the phone: “I Love you”…
On July 27, 2015, he sends me a few pictures of himself working on the dude ranch in Montana. One of the pictures has a bandana over his mouth. I reply back; “Are you an outlaw now?” He replies back “Lol..yes.mami.am.” He sends me another picture of himself wearing a cowboy hat and sunglasses in the barn. I text him: “Not a bandit? Just a cool cowboy made in the shade”.
That night I sext him and say: “So are you gonna fuck me again?” He sends back a picture of himself in his van and writes: “I might do just that :)”
That was our last IM conversation. The next day I went on to Facebook to message him but his profile was gone. I couldn’t find him anywhere. So I click on to my business Facebook page and try to find him. His Facebook page is there. Dumbfounded, I realize he blocked me. No warning. Nothing. I text him asking him why he unfriended me and blocked me on Facebook?
I text him again: “WTF M? Don’t I deserve an explanation? Why you blocked me on Facebook? After everything I’ve done for you? Wow!”
“You don’t even respond?”
“When I asked you if you are going to fuck me again this isn’t the fuck I meant.”
He went ghost town on me. I don’t understand. I’m sick to my stomach. I rack my brains trying to figure out what I did but I don’t know. He’s ceases all communication with me. I finally break down and call his sister who’ve I’ve met and hung out with. She tells me it’s because I was talking to one of his friends on Facebook. What? First off I don’t talk to his friends, I just hit the Like button and comment on Big M’s stuff.
What are we in grade school? Second if I was talking to a Friend, why didn’t he have the balls to come to me and talk to me about it before cutting ties with me? He’s 57 years old. What a fuckin’ child!
Wow! After everything that I did for him. I paid for his SAG membership for a year. I paid his IRS penalties, I paid for 6 months of storage, I paid bills that he needed too pay. He didn’t put a gun to my head, but he talked endlessly about his financial troubles and I finally broke down and helped him. I had money from my inheritance and he knew that. I paid over $2500 towards his bills and if I add up all the dinners, entertainment, and hotels, that I paid for, that’s easily another $2000 that I spent on him. He also asked me to put $200 in to his checking account because he was in the red again, which I sheepishly did when I was on the road in Oregon.
He gave me his Stella guitar as collateral until he pays me back. He said it’s worth at least $500. Well, I looked online, it’s worth more like $50 in the condition it’s in. Apparently he just added a zero to it. I’ve been had!
My friend who was conned out of money on an online dating site says he’s a scam artist preying on innocent women. I didn’t believe it at first but the more I thought about it the more I realized she’s right.
Red flags: The warning signs:
Lie: He told me he was living in between apartments and living with a friend. Truth: He was living in his Van. I didn’t learn the truth until after I drove 17 hours to meet him.
Lie: He’s waiting for a call back on a commercial that’s why he can’t come up to Oregon to meet me. Truth: He has no money, no job, no home. He’s broke! That’s why he can’t come up to Oregon to see me. FYI: I did research him on the internet before I met him and he was legitimate as a Stuntman in Hollywood movies.
Lie: According to him his recent X he lived with was evil and treated him like shit and cheated on him Truth: After 2 months of dating (he met her online) they moved in together. She won a lawsuit and had money, but when her money dwindled he left her.
His money issues. Spending money on stuff he didn’t need, but ignoring his bills.
Blaming everyone for his problems except himself.
When he told me he lived in his friends back yard in a self made tarp tent for 6 months because he had no money and no job. He couldn’t even get a real tent or work? Hmmm…
When he told me his friends are sick of his problems and don’t want to deal with him anymore.
His sister telling me that he has always been this way: no control over money, depression, manic, only out for himself.
Before he blocked me, he texted me: “He’s leaving the ranch end of July to go back to the LA area to care for a Dear Friend who’s in a car accident on her way to see him. Her friend died & she was in a coma for 2 weeks. He’s going to help her walk again. She’s going to pay him $3,000 / month to take care of her and he will live there.” Apparently this was a lie as well.
I thought by being in his life I could help him get back on his feet. I should have run at the first sign but I wanted to stand firm since I’ve always run in the past. Now I see. He has another Sugar Mama to care for him. Within 2 weeks of disappearing his new girl friend contacted me and told me they were in love and he was living with her. She was also buying him a house near his sisters in Montana. WOW!
He doesn’t need me anymore. Am I angry? You bet. I’m floored. I wonder how many other women he’s done this too? Double dipping for months…Come to find out his new girl friend had an elaborate hoax saying that she was marrying Mark Calaway “The Undertaker”. She even changed her name on Facebook and other internet sites. In 2014 she created rumors that she was Barry Gibbs new love interest. How fucking sick is she for creating such lies?
Telling me he loves me? Is that a lie too? Truth: He never did he just used me and when he found someone else who had supposedly more money he dropped me.
Love is blind. I know I will never see the money again. But the worse part is how he went about cutting me out of his life in one fell swoop.
Lessons be learned. Mark my words: Don’t turn a blind eye when your gut is telling you to run.
I see Big M in Montana, one last time hoping he’s made an improvement to his life. Once a well known stuntman who has fallen on hard times-does he have the will power to make a comeback?
It’s been a month since I left Big M in LA. Since then I’ve traveled around Oregon and Kauai. Now I’m heading back to New England for the Summer via Montana to see Big M. We’ve spoken almost daily. He drove his broken down van from LA to Whitefish, Montana. I can’t believe it didn’t break down going through those mountain passes. He made it safe and sound, however. I’m looking forward to seeing him again.
It’s close to midnight when I spot a Best Western in Kalispell, MT. I’m exhausted and in need of a good night sleep. Next day I’m seeing him. I awake to mooing and look out my window. You know when you are in Montana when your neighbors are cattle. I sext him:
Me: Morning Babe. I’m very wet, cum and fuck me.
Big M: Where’s my juicebox?
Me: I’m right next to you. I’m very horny. It’s been a while.
Big M: mmm..My cock is getting fuckin’ hard
Me: Cum to me and slide your big cock in…
Big M: I’m cummin’…
I head to the ranch where I will be staying for a week. I’m in awe over the beauty of the Rockies. Wow. I almost drive off the road looking at the snowcap mountains before me. I arrive and check in. I hear a familiar voice behind me and turn, its Mark. I smile and say:
He smiles and gives me a hug. He feels nice in my arms. I just want to fuck him.
They show me the ranch and then my quarters; The Appaloosa room is in the lower level of the main house is a small windowless room but it’s the cheapest. Anyways I’m only going using it for sleeping and fucking…purrfect..
Even though there are no guests staying at the ranch, No sleep overs-ranch rules, but they didn’t say he couldn’t fuck me and stay with me until 3am?
For the next week, we have fun. We hike in Glacier National Park, the natural scenery is amazing and ride horses to Canada. The mountain lakes are a beautiful turquoise blue. We play frisbee, eat at some wonderful restaurants and have great sex. Finally he’s doesn’t have pain in his neck, something is going right.
But there are moments where the dark clouds of foreboding play with Mark. He’s angry with his sisters because they don’t want us staying with them. I tell him I understand she doesn’t know me. He goes into a rage and starts punching his head. He’s so angry with her. Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. He scares me. He’s a raging lunatic. I try to calm him down but he continues. His face is beet red and his eyes are bulging. His face is distorted from his rage.
“Mark it’s okay. It’s not a big deal. We can stay at a hotel.” I say in a calming voice.
“No it’s not okay. You were the only one who was there for me in my darkest moment and you helped me. If her friend needed a place to stay and helped her out of a jam, I would let him stay with me!” He yells.
After a few minutes he turns into a little boy and starts sobbing and I hold him and rock him and tell him everything all will be okay.
He’s under a lot of stress due to his bills piling up. He doesn’t hold a gun to my head but his constant talking about his financial situation and the pleading in his eyes leads me to pay his bills. I have money from an inheritance and he is in need of financial stability so I pay the most pressing ones:
$750 to SAG for his membership good through November. If this doesn’t get paid now he will lose everything and reinstatement would be $3000. SAG card is vital to Actors/stuntman and those who work in the entertainment industry.
$285 to LA Superior Court. His speeding ticket he got when he was leaving me in Torrance CA.
$90 to the EDD Employment Development Department. They paid him too much and want their money back.
$217.93 to the ACSC taxes owed
$275 to the Unites States Treasury for back income taxes owed.
$650 I paid for his storage unit for 6 months in San Clemente, CA.
$100 I had to put in his BOA account because he was overdrawn (had to do that when I was on the road in Oregon)
$250 in cash back in Torrance CA to keep him safe for a few days.
Total: $2617.93 in real money not including food or lodging which came to another couple of grand. But I was trying to help him since he was my confidante, lover and friend.
I paid for all his meals and lodging. Of course he enjoyed my company he was living scott free.
His sister calls back and tries to let make him understand that she’s concerned about the dog who attacks Mark. He tells her that he will be careful and she finally gives in and let’s us stay for the weekend. We leave the ranch on Friday and head to his sisters for Mother’s Day weekend in Missoula. He drives the van and I drive my car since I’m heading back home.
His sisters live together and they are really sweet but they are at the end of their rope with him. They give me his history and it’s not pretty. He has always been this way. It’s not an occasional dark period it’s been a constant up and down struggle for him all his life. Now that he’s going to be 57 in the Spring, he has nothing to show for all his glory. It’s so depressing.
For a fleeting moment his troubles are gone and we hike the Big M. He’s so proud of the
college that his father went too. He shows me around. He’s like a school boy full of pride. I tell Mark that I would rather stay at a hotel for the night and not his sisters due to the dog and lack of privacy. We stay at the Holiday Inn Express in downtown for our last night together.
Best laid plans don’t always work out. Instead of having a great night we fight. He’s getting on my nerves with his buying habits. I feel resentment to dishing out the money trying to help him get back on his feet while he spends his own money on frivolous things. His whole lifestyle irritates me. We go to bed mad and wake up mad. It’s sad.
The next day is Mother’s Day and I’m leaving. I drop him off and say Goodbye to his sisters. I am feeling guilty for yelling at Mark and I apologize. We hug and kiss. He says he’s sorry for being such a loser. This makes me feel even more guilty.
“You’re not a loser. You’re just messed up.” I smile as I get into the car.
“I love you.” He says as he bends down and kisses me.
“Love you too. Take care of yourself. Okay?” I say as I look into his sad eyes.
“I will.” He smiles back at me.
I drive off with a heaviness in my heart.
Big M and I are in bed after making love, I look at the clock and it’s 10:15am, check out is 11am. We kiss and get out of bed and head for the shower. Our first and our last shower together for a long time. He lathers me up and washes me carefully and I do the same for him. We fuck one last time with the water pouring over us, so hot and erotic.
We jump out of the shower, and get ready. Looking around making sure we didn’t leave anything and we walk hand in hand out the door. There is a line at check out and I can see that he’s edgy. He says he has to meet his friend at the unemployment office at 11:30. I tell him to go. He pulls me close and passionately kisses me and walks away. I watch him disappear.
I check out and head for the car. As I’m about to leave, I see that he is calling my cell. I pick up and he’s frantic. Apparently he just got stopped for driving 76 mph in a 35 mph speed limit zone, which is serious business. WTF is wrong with this dude? Does he just like to piss away money he doesn’t have? I tell him to calm down and don’t argue with the cop. He says he’s got to go because the cop is coming back.
The queasy feeling is back in my stomach. This dude is on a self-destructive road and it breaks my heart. I wait in the garage as the minutes tick by. Finally he calls back and tells me the cop was nice enough not to impound his motorcycle or arrest him. He did receive a $275 speeding ticket. I tell him that I put $250 American Express Traveler Cheques in his motorcycle bag yesterday, so that should help him. He thanks me for putting up with him and being with him through this horrible time in his life. He is so upset and I just listen. He has a good heart but he’s a mess. He tells me he loves me and I tell him I love him too. The last words to me are: I will see you in Montana. I laugh and say goodbye.
I’m torn. I know I can’t stay but I’m worried about him. I wish I could help him but he has to do this on his own-get himself out of this financial mess. If I stayed I would be giving up my dream of traveling and finishing my 6 month solo road trip. Meeting Mark was an interesting experience. I had the time and the money, so what the hell. He is part of my life now and I will always remember him as the man who lives in the van.
I’m apparently a compassionate person because I should have said Hello, goodbye, nice meeting you, have a nice life, hope it all works out for you to Big M when I finally met him, but I didn’t. Instead I let him hang with me for two weeks in the Redondo Beach area (that’s where he is from). I felt guilty that I would be staying in nice places while he would be living in his Van, at Von’s parking lot. I do like him but he drives me nuts. Being thrown together with anyone, especially strangers 24/7 is extremely stressful. We went from online pen pals to living together. Now that would be a great Reality Show. What should we call it?
I figure, I’m on a 6 month solo road trip so I can chalk it up to experiences. He’s lived an exciting life as a Stuntman/Actor/Cowboy/Moto dude. Apparently I’m drawn to this type, bad boy. He’s also a pot head. I like pot on occasion but he takes a hit 5-6 times/day. He says it helps him relax and de-stresses him. He’s comfortably numb. It kind of turns me off. He doesn’t smoke cigarettes, take prescription pills, not much of a drinker and doesn’t do any other hard-core drugs, thank God. So I can’t complain about that. FYI: marijuana isn’t the gate way drug; alcohol, cigarettes and prescription drugs are. Let’s get that straight.
As Carrie from Sex & The City said about Big: “She’s addicted to the pain.” I think that sums up my life with men perfectly. I’m attracted to bad boys because they live life on the edge with passion and drama which makes me feel alive. Yep I admit it. I love the drama, the thrill, and the fantasy. I’m not alone here, we love the wild ones but discard the nice ones.
The Pro’s about Big M: He is very affectionate, always holding my hand and kissing me. The way he looks at me with those steel-blue eyes makes my heart skip a beat. He has a wonderful body, his abs are to die for, and he has a great smile. Plus even though he had that horrible accident with his penis, he actually is a great lover, who makes me very wet. I come every time.
I’m torn. We like each other a lot, but his behavior is driving a wedge between us. He wants to get himself out of this financial chaos he has created but he won’t do what it takes to do it. He says if he can only get one more commercial, he would get himself out of the deep hole. He should do an ice-cream commercial since that is his drug of choice. He’s moving to Montana in the Spring to work as a wrangler at a dude ranch for $1200/month. At least he will have a roof over his head and three square meals per day. It’s almost like jail but he has a bit more freedom.
We stay at the Marriott in Torrance, CA for the last two nights before I head back to Oregon. I actually call 15 hotels in the area and everything is full. Finally I find the Marriott. Oy! That’s stressful. Big M needs to go to his van and organize it since it’s a mess. I stay behind, because he needs to do this on his own. He takes his motorcycle. I hang out at the bar and by the pool. It’s alone time, aah.
I get a Cosmo martini but when the bartender gives it to me in a plastic cup it’s only 1/3 cup full. I stare at it and ponder; boy it looks awful tiny. I finally ask her what’s up with this $12 drink and she looks at me like I have two heads. She then snaps it up and puts in their martini glass and it fills right up. She says in a mocking tone: “See?” I just look at her. Wow. Deception.
She’s an A Hole. I don’t leave her a tip and complain to the manager about her rude behavior. I hang out by the pool enjoying the afternoon sun. Big M has been gone close to 4 hours. I envision him tackling his van and organizing it. I’m glad things are finally looking up. I can leave without worrying about him. I get a text from him telling me he’s on his way.
He meets me and we kiss. He looks depressed. He tells me that he went to his van and sat there for over an hour but didn’t do a damn thing. He then went to the gym and worked out for almost 2 hours and stopped at a burger joint on his way back. His only discipline is working out. If he could just apply that logic to the rest of his life he would be successful.
I realized then and there he will never change. He doesn’t have the drive to fix his life. He wants other’s to do it for him. No matter what I do for him he won’t take charge of his life and fix it. I finally see the light. He’s beyond hope.
I get up and tell him that I can’t help him anymore. I’m done. He’s dejected. We fight, well I yell and he just stares at me. We head up to the room on the 17th floor. He gathers his things and leaves. I don’t want him to go, I’m just venting. I beg him not to leave. I can’t bear that he will be in that van while I’m in this $200/night hotel room without him. He breaks my heart as he leaves with his guitar and backpack. How is he going to carry everything on his motorcycle? How?
He kisses me and walks out of my life.
I know it’s for the best, but I cry because I do care for him and he broke my heart. I cry for him, I cry for the loss of our friendship. I cry myself to sleep.
For the next two weeks I try to help Big M get his life in order, before I have to go back to Oregon. The Man who lives in a Van apparently has no Plan. I pay to get his van fixed so it’s road worthy, no more black smoke coming out of the exhaust. I make sure he has shelter and food. He stays with me in hotels and various lodgings. I take him out to eat, so he doesn’t starve. We do fun things together, which I pay for: horseback riding in Rolling Hills, Paddle Boarding in Carlsbad, hiking in Palos Verdes and Torrey Pines.
I am his Sugar Mommy. Once in a while he buys me an ice-cream. How nice of him. Tears roll down his face, as he tells me how thankful he is that I came into his life. I think they are real, he is an Actor so he could be faking it.
He is essentially a child in a mans body. He tells me he’s going food shopping and asks me to take him to Whole Foods. I wait in the car as he goes in. Twenty minutes later he comes out with four bags. I’m thinking at least he got some good food for breakfast and lunch. He gets into the car and shows me what he got. $75 worth of junk food! I look at him in disgust. He’s very happy about his ginger snaps and starts munching on them. He says it’s organic. So what! It’s still junk food with no nutritional value that he’s spending his money on! This irks me too no end. Here he is complaining that he has no money and look at what he’s doing with it? Serenity NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ever since he won the award 6 years ago for Stuntman of the year his life has been in shambles. He told me a few years ago when he was in between apartments and gigs (homeless), he lived in a friends back yard in a homemade tarp tent for 6 months. He couldn’t even buy a real tent? He was the talk of the town well at least in that neighborhood. OMG! WTF is wrong with this dude?
Couldn’t he get a job flipping burgers? Oh wait his ego would be at stake. That’s below him. He tells me he was on medication for his bipolar and depression but had to stop taking it when his health insurance ran out. Is there anything else that he hasn’t shared with me? Oh wait there is more.
We are getting hot and heavy and then he drops a bombshell on me. Apparently a few years back when he was doing a commercial, they hoisted him too high. When they let him go, his penis slammed into the steel railing. He was able to finish the commercial but was in severe pain. A few days later he had surgery which chopped of 1.5″ of his penis. He now has a hard time (no pun intended) performing in the bedroom.
Am I in a B movie? Or is this Candid Camera? Is Allan Funt going to come out and make fun of me and say Smile You’re on Candid Camera!? No one will believe me when I tell them this tale. My God being with this dude is like being trapped in quick sand. There is no place to hide. He is starting to annoy me. I will say it again Serenity NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Big M is a small time Actor/Stuntman/Cowboy/Moto dude. He’s gone from doing all right in Hollywood to living in a Van. He is one of the many thousands of past celebrities, once famous who are now on the edge of darkness. He does have a Facebook page with 1000’s of followers but no one except his closest friends and family actually know his downward spiral. Many friends have abandoned him in his hours of need.
What did I get myself into? Does misery love company? It’s apparently following me on my journey. Online dating sites present our best faces. How wonderful we are, our dreams, our hopes, our wants, our desires and who we are looking for. Can you imagine if we all told the world what we are really like? The Good, the Bad and the Ugly? Would anyone want us?
Big M lied, plain and simple. Instead of telling me his true predicament, he masked it as any Actor would. He asked me today if I knew about his situation before I met him would I have come? In all honesty, no I wouldn’t have driven 17 hours to meet him. I would probably have friended him online and if I was in the area I might have met him.
Does that make me a shallow person? I do have compassion and have helped many friends over the years when they were down and out. I have been down on my luck and I have had friends who’ve abandoned me in my time of need. I do care for him. He has so much potential still left, but he is lost amongst his own destructive behavior.
We are together 24/7 forced by circumstances of compassion and guilt. I feel as though I’m on a Reality Show. It’s almost like the movie Down & Out in Beverly Hills. I want to try to help him get back on his feet but is he willing to help himself?
“If there is a will there is always a way, but if there is no will, there is only delays.” – ME.
First thing is to get his stuff out of his ex girlfriends storage unit in Encinitas. She’s been obsessively calling and texting him. 28 missed calls, 21 text messages. We leave his van at Von’s parking lot, his home before he met me and drive an hour south following the Pacific Coast Highway. If we are going to do work we might as well enjoy the beautiful scenery on the way.
We have lunch at the Fishermen’s on San Clemente’s Pier and then walk hand in hand on the beach. We are having a wonderful time, bonding. It’s a beautiful sunny afternoon. Well when is the sun not shining in full force in southern California?
He sees some guys playing frisbee. He wants to play, the kid in him runs and catches the frisbee as it’s heading towards him. He then whips it to the other guy. They exchange pleasantries and he comes back to me with a big grin on his face. At 56, he’s still a child in an adult’s body, I do love that. I wonder however, if the Peter Pan syndrome will tear us apart?
We head to the storage unit and we talk to the manager. There is a storage unit available a few doors down from his current unit. We look at it, it’s a 5×10 which is bigger than his current 5×5 space he has now. I end up paying for 6 months which comes out to close to $700. He’s desperate and I have inheritance money so I can help him. Do I have Sucker written all over me?
His pain in his neck is killing him. How convenient. I tell him to take the car and get some pain killers and do the errands he has to do. I will start moving his stuff while he’s gone. Boy he has a lot of memories stored in the unit: trophies, buckles and photographs from rodeo and motocross days. Dvd’s and tapes of his stuntman/Acting auditions along with photographs of his modeling days.
Wow he really had a wonderful life. So sad it has come to this…
I find the strength to move just about everything over by the time he gets back. He’s amazed at my organizational skills. I remind him that my car is packed perfectly for all my needs for my 6 month journey. He laughs then hugs and kisses me.
He goes through his stuff and goes down memory lane, telling me of his work on past movies and commercials. His face becomes alive and animated from his glory days. For a moment he forgets his situation and revels in all the good that has been bestowed upon him.
He lives in the past because the present is too painful. My heart goes out to him
After learning that my could be lover is homeless, I decide to let him stay with me for the next two weeks. I’ve been in bad situations before, never homeless but down on my luck. I believe in karma what goes around comes around. It’s not like he’s a stranger who I let share my bed with. We have been conversing via phone, text and IM/Facebook every day for the past 1.5 months. He just left out some major details, like being broke, can’t find work as an actor/stuntman, ex girlfriend issues and living in a van. The SNL skit The Man Who Lives Down By The River resonates in my head. Oy!
Would I have come knowing this? Driven 17 hours from Eugene, OR to LA? I don’t know, probably not. But I’m back in warm, sunny California so I might as well enjoy his company. He’s affectionate with a nice body, a great kisser and a wonderful story-teller. He talks for hours about his glory days as a stuntman/cowboy.
We stay at an Airbnb, in Rolling Hills Estates for two nights. It’s on the same street he used to live years ago when he was doing well. He gives me a tour. I hear cats meowing, but they are not cats. Big M tells me I hear peacocks. They are everywhere. It’s amazing. The last time I saw one was in Paris France circa 1992.
We head back to the guest cottage. As we are getting ready to go out to eat I hear his cry. I rush into the bathroom and he’s on his knees holding his neck. His face is distorted from the excruciating pain. The pain juts through the back of his neck where it’s debilitating him. He’s swears under his breath and slowly gets up.
He tells me he had a neck operation six months ago due to his moto/rodeo days. The pain comes and goes and I can see it in his face. There is nothing I can do and it breaks my heart to see him this way. I try to a help him as much as I can. Is there anything else that can go wrong with him? Seriously? There is a dark cloud looming over his head ready to unleash its fury at any moment.
Minutes pass and the pain subsides. Maybe having a nice meal will make him feel better. I take him out to eat. I don’t want him to starve. He’s not much of a drinker which is good (alcoholism runs in his family) and he doesn’t get expensive items on the menu. His idea of food is hamburgers from a fast food joint and ice-cream that’s his drug of choice. Opposite from me. I like pubs and nicer establishments where I can sit in a nice environment and enjoy my food, drink and conversation without feeling rushed. I’m not talking about fancy just down to earth.
How can someone who eats like crap have such a nice physique? While I try to eat as healthy as possible but have a flabby tummy. Hmmm. He works out four times a week doing intense exercises. I think that’s the secret to looking good; those gorgeous abs attest to that.
Is this relationship going to last? What am I thinking? Maybe he will be one of those down and out actors who gets his big break again and turns his life around. You know the rags to riches story. It’s nice to dream, after all we are in California…