(Pt. 1)

(Pt. 2)

Where to start…

Emil Ottoman. An interesting fella.

“The official unofficial editor of the Substack fiction tab.”

Here we discuss his sordid past dealing drugs, prison, firearms, stalkers, Casual Nihilism™, apartment living, benzodiazepine addiction, and we even get a surprise visit from his mother! That’s a first for us here at The Stack. Rambling writers, bobcat attacks, and moms.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” as the great George Constanza once said.

We know sex, drugs, and violence sell, so we do our best to deliver.

It’s 3:49 A.M. in Hereford, and I’m a goddamn wreck of a man, fumbling around on the laptop trying to download these fucking videos, insomnia nagging and gnawing, the neon pill bottle with seventy-eight K-pins luring me toward the drawer, every woman inhabiting my memory somehow amalgamating into one hellish siren, whispering my name in a low, seething tone. I don’t mind that last part, but the Klonopin’s a problem.

Such is life as a drug addict. I could say ex-addict, but this kind of horror never really leaves.

Which is why I was so interested in Emil’s benzo use.

Benzos are the only thing on Earth that successfully brought Jordan Peterson to his knees. (There’s a joke there.)

Eh?

We live in a drug-fueled world.

Every other commercial I see is a smiley advertisement for some terrible “medication” that probably causes anal leakage or homicidal psychosis.

Overweight? Can’t afford anything but frozen and ultra-processed food while the cunts in California shop for organic whale sperm at Erewhon? Mainline some Ozempic. Ozempic’s eating your stomach lining and muscle mass? Take some Zofran. Zofran’s giving you a splitting headache, turning your genitals into a corkscrew? No problemo, we’ll load you up on Imitrex. Oh, Jesus, now you’re depressed because of the corkscrew? C’mon, man. Eat some Prozac.

Prozac’s making you suicidal?

Don’t worry, we’ve got a pill for that, too™.

(Paid for by The Council To Addict Plebeians.)

^Actual transcript.^

………

I fell asleep.

Don’t get mad at me, it was seven in the morning.

Here I am in 1997 with AOL dial-up internet, and the line’s still ringing.

Just a few more notes—

Since my microphone wasn’t working, I had to restart the stream halfway through, which is why there are two videos instead of one. I’ve since dug up my lapel mic, so this shouldn’t be a problem going forward.

What’s The Stack without technical difficulties?

This Friday we have Kyle (Horrorble Writer), so stay tuned.

-Connor

Since our time was cut short, I sent Tom a few written questions.

Why did you start writing? Who were your influences as a young writer, and how have they changed over the years?

I honestly have no fucking idea why I started writing. I am pretty sure I never would have, except for that I thought I had a good enough idea for this one story, and being stuck inside the house during the pandemic gave me enough time to read a ton of history and discover a workable context, like I said on camera, to give the story a believable setting and stakes so that it wasn’t just empty calories of dudes running around stabbing each other for no good reason other than revenge for the last stabbing. My favorite authors when I was a kid were Mario Puzo and Dostoevsky, and had a pretty intense Joyce phase right after I quit drinking, and I went through a few of the other major Russians (Tolstoy, Turgenev, Nabokov) at certain points but didn’t feel quite as strongly attached to them as I did to Fyodor. My other major influences are television-based: David Milch and Aaron Sorkin informed my dialogue more than any novelist I ever came across, probably because I could hear the pacing and cadence of the conversation and see it happening within the scene, what was going on around the people talking, what they were doing with their hands and voices and eyes...television is a pretty obvious shortcut to show-don’t-tell but I think I picked the right writers, at least.

Do you write at a particular time, or just whenever you feel inspired? Any routine?

I have a toddler. Creative routine doesn’t have room to exist. I write in ten minute bursts during his nap or on my phone, scrolling through a google doc at 10:30pm when I’m out walking the dog around my neighborhood, or if some important inspiration strikes I try to throw it onto a note on my phone and fit it into its proper place in my ever-expanding outline when I have that next free ten minutes.

Do you have a favorite book, and what are you currently reading?

My favorite book of all time is non-fiction: Postwar, by Tony Judt, a sixty-year history of Europe from 1945 that goes deep into the economics and the cultural differences, and the deep behind-the-scenes diplomatic priorities and every tiny nuance you could imagine on both sides of the Curtain--and comes to the conclusion that there were no purely “good” guys. My favorite novel is probably still Karamazov, but there have been a couple of challengers to that title within the past few years: Riot Baby by Tochi Onyebuchi is a modern urban fantasy novella that everyone needs to read at least once, and Mars in Retrograde by our very own James Worth is a master class in literary emotional intelligence.

Do you base characters and happenings on real people and places, or is your work purely fiction?

My priority, in my writing process, is believability. So everything is based at least a little bit on real history. I have mashed up a half-dozen different cultures within a few hundred years of each other in the late-ancient/early-medieval period--the entire premise of the series is based on the collapse of the Eastern Roman and Persian empires in the early 600s, which allowed Mohammed’s successors easy access to the entire region when they decided to expand north out of the Arabian desert (and yeah, my version has the new power coming from the north instead, over a mountain range that looks suspiciously like the Caucasus, but six of one). My protagonists have some Viking traits, some traits of the Kurdish Peshmerga, probably some samurai-inspired traits mixed in as well--and hopefully all done respectfully enough and with enough inventiveness in the mixture to not come off as derivative or offensive. My idea is, warriors from every culture have probably had reasonably similar (horrific) experiences in war for thousands of years, and there’s enough in that commonality to focus on, looking at individual characters and their grief, trauma, survivor’s guilt, etc., that I don’t need to create a whole new goddamn universe or invent a magic system. I’m interested in people.

A few bonuses-

Thoughts on Epstein and what it means for our society, if anything?

(C’mon, what’s a Desmond interview without a little Epstein talk?)

My thoughts on Epstein are that I am not particularly surprised that a bunch of people with endless money and no real accountability under the law wound up doing the most heinous shit any of us can imagine. That makes very good sense to me. And the ‘clever’ ones who cover for them have done a good enough job distracting and dividing the rest of us, at least in the States, that there’s a possibility that some of them never get what they deserve. But man oh man, what they deserve...what don’t they deserve? What is punishment enough? Should they starve to death for their deadly sin of greed? Should we reach back to the 1500s for inspiration and impale them all? Should we just confiscate all their money and stock and real property and make them work regular jobs for a barely liveable wage with no prayer of advancement? Wiser people than myself should make that decision.

Do you believe there's a future for writers, for artists in general?

There is absolutely 100% a fucking future for artists and writers. It may be underground for a while, but I genuinely believe AI “creatives” are doomed to fail just like the rest of the AI bubble, and there will be some backlash, at least in some circles, when parents realize their kids are being taught never, ever, EVER to do anything for themselves and they’ll start looking for real flesh and blood humans to be their kids’ teachers and coaches and make sure their kids know how to write more than a basic fucking sentence on their own--and even if I’m wrong about the world and this only happens with a tiny minority of kids, as long as people can access the skills and available materials to learn to read and write and draw and play instruments, they can’t kill us off completely.

Are there any other genres you've explored in your writing? Personally, I’m writing a dystopian science fiction book, as I grew up loving 1984, A Clockwork Orange, A Scanner Darkly (anything by Dick), Brave New World, The Giver, and Fahrenheit 451.

I think part of the reason why I’m so shy about saying “I’m writing fantasy“ is because of how little I stick to the script as it has been presented by the genre in any of its forms… Part of the fun of not knowing any of the rules is is that I have the freedom to do whatever the hell I want, so I’m borrowing from anything that has ever deeply affected me (in any way, be it comedy or drama or action or just something sweet and heartfelt) when I read it or saw it or even just heard it. I care as much or more about the characters and their feelings (and the feelings they bring out in the reader) as I do the main plot line. Probably a little more. That’s what I mean when I say “I want to write about people,” too…

You say you're interested in people. What’s a small, real-life behavior or habit you’ve noticed in someone that later found its way into a character? Do you study people in public?

Speaking of which, that’s what comes from all the non-fiction and history I got to read leading up to starting this project in earnest…One of the most important influences to this second novel I’m wrapping up right now is They Will Have to Die Now by James Verini. It’s a journalist’s account of the 2016 battle of Mosul, between the Iraqi army and Da’esh (ISIS, ISIL, whatever you want to refer to them as), and it follows civilians as well as soldiers through this months-long modern siege of this city that’s been around for at least three millennia in some form or another, and the way Verini weaves the action of battle around the little familial dramas and also around the larger historical context of the region and the city itself really stuck with me. (That’s why there are so many smaller stories to follow within the larger saga—I don’t want tell Kareva’s story by itself without touching on how it affects everyone around him. Everyone counts, not just the king or chieftain or whoever.) I can’t study people in public, because I’m not subtle enough to do it without being super creepy, and also I have a toddler to chase around everywhere and that takes up most of my attention. So I have to rely on secondary sources, and thankfully this dude really asked all the right questions and listened intently and respectfully enough that everyone was willing to be honest with him.

BUT to answer your last question more specifically… there’s a moment in this new novel where one of my guys is on the carpet in front of his chief admitting to an absolutely catastrophic fuck up that will almost certainly mean his own death…and one of the bodyguards bursts out laughing at how fucked the situation is that this dude just put them all in. He takes a punch to the face from the boss as a result, but his inability to control his laughter in this wildly inappropriate moment felt too real not to include (and also 100% like something I would do).

Thanks to for stopping by and answering my questions.

Check out his Substack, and buy his first book here.

wants a chateau.

We got after it in this one.

I take detailed notes before interviews, finding whatever I can about the person I’m speaking with. Regardless, Dan and I always seem to veer, tangentially spewing war stories and ridiculous opinions (on my part).

(The notes in question. The evidence.)

I don’t talk much in my everyday life. It’s just me and the cat, Big Bird, and the keys, and the mountain. The mountain. I stare at it every day, every morning, and at its silhouette at night. It speaks to me. It screams.

So do I.

I imagine it’s hollow, and there are beings living inside it, little green men, or perhaps alabaster, reclusive bald cunts—inching towards their last meal—such as myself.

But that’s the RSO talking.

This conversation got me thinking. I’m always thinking, but it hooked me on a specific train of thought: why we hate. There’s a lot of hate here on The Stack, and frankly, I support folks’ right to hate, to rattle off terrible opinions with conviction, because that’s how we eviscerate bad ideas. And yes, I’m an asshole sometimes—I’m mentally ill, practice what you preach, people—and I’m blocked by half of this platform, but only because I speak my mind a bit too bluntly sometimes.

Nice cop-out, Desimundo.

All this hate would evaporate if we just talked to each other. Not in the comments. Hearing someone’s voice is far different from reading their text.

So this is an open invitation. Though I don’t think this will bear fruit, it doesn’t hurt to try.

Or maybe it does.

Buk said, “Don’t Try,” don’t force it, or it’ll come out phony. And yes, I know many think Bukowski was a scumbag of a man, and perhaps he was, but he wrote some damn good books.

Couple decent poems, too.

You can’t tell me Play the Piano Drunk Like a Percussion Instrument Until the Fingers Begin to Bleed a Bit isn’t a fucking excellent title. I mean, you could, but I wouldn’t believe you.

ANYWAY—

. What a great guy. Our conversation went on and on, and it didn’t feel forced at all. His book, I Hear You Watching, which I’m currently reading, is a strong and compelling debut. The prose is paranoid, hilarious, and haunting. I’ve had some paranoid days, and I relate to the main character, Alex, in many, many ways. (Hey, that rhymed.) Mainly that I’m nuts, too.

“Synchronicity has told a perfect joke.”

That’s a helluva line.

If you haven’t already, go pick up a paperback and support the man’s work.

Fuck ebooks, hold the damn thing in your hands. Feel it.

Know it.™

(Trademark paid for by Brad Zangetti of Zangetti Books.)

(I stole this picture.)

Since Zach lives in France, we discussed their healthcare system and how it puts America’s to shame. Last night, I chipped a tooth. My teeth are fucked up due to my heroin addiction. Good old diamorphine. I’d wake up in full-blown withdrawal, puke, then scheme up forty bucks for a shot. Brushing my teeth wasn’t a priority. And the bile rotted them steadily throughout the day. Speaking of Bukowski, I heard that he sustained himself by eating one Payday per day, so my heroin addled brain thought—Good idea! And thanks to Suboxone, my teeth are now brittle. Breaking apart. I’m a monster. Why do you think I hide my face? I say all this because of the insane costs of dental work here in the US. To fix my teeth, it will cost tens of thousands of dollars—and who the fuck has that kind of money? I’m about to move into a goddamn van. I guess I’m completing the picture—the edentulous man living in a van down by the river and masturbating with his own vile tears.

A few weeks back, I had a terrible panic attack. (Another fucking rhyme.) Thought it was over. I called 9-11 as I was speeding down the highway in a stolen truck, thinking I was going to pass out and crash into a patch of prickly pear. If only I could get the recording of that call…

It was humiliating. The doc said I was having a panic attack, that my heart was fine, and asked if I was depressed.

I left.

That cost over $1,000.

. . .

Other topics covered include my obsession with the Epstein files, the impending doom of AI, and mainlining fentanyl patches, a nostalgic pastime of mine. Since my phone overheated three times, we had to start over, so this video covers the first two hours. I live in the styx, right on the border between the US and Mexico, and my Wi-Fi is atrocious, so it took me four hours to upload this. I’ve gone back in time to 1999.

It’s not all bad.

I’ll be posting the rest soon. Since Substack doesn’t let me post podcasts for anyone but paid subscribers, I have to download the files, then paste them into a regular article so everyone can watch.

What can I say, I’m a man of the people.

Oh yeah, and we decided on a name.

The Stack With Desmond And Wayback.

Stay tuned.

-Connor

Make no mistake. Big Bird’s a killer.

A lovely conversation with and Daniel Falatko, AKA .

Technical difficulties galore.

Pablo’s got a doobie, and I took 50 mg of edibles about an hour before this, just to calm down from reading the Epstein files, so we were all over the place. I wouldn’t exactly call this an interview. We’re making this up as we go along, and I love it.

We start off by discussing Kill Tony, a show I found when it only had around 20k subscribers on YouTube, and Tony Hinchcliffe was an unknown, red-faced gay man. (It’s a running joke on the show. Everyone says Tony is gay, even though he has a supermodel lady friend. It’s all good, gay fun.)

I brought up Pablo’s book, To The Moon, Darkly, published by /Nascent Night Press, which he wrote during a time of financial instability after being fired from his job. We’re both in the restaurant industry, and as I say, it’s volatile. Tempers flare, and restaurant owners are generally shitty people. Generally.

Also got into Epstein, of course, and why it enrages me that our world is, and has been for quite some time, run by pedophiles and serial killers.

I brought up the drug scopolamine, which gave Dan the idea of drugging people, then bringing them to the zoo.

This is why we have these important conversations.

Also discussed AI again, because I’m terrified of it, and I recently watched a great film, Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die, that explores a future where AI goes wrong. It’s hilarious and terrifying, but then again so is this goddamn modern world.

I’m saying goddamn a lot these days, writing from the perspective of an angsty teenager. We talked briefly about TRACKS KIDS and the prologue I posted and simultaneously unposted.

If you subscribe, I guess you got a free sneak peak in your email.

Don’t ask me why I do these things.

Insanity.

Brought up my interview with , (Dan asked a few questions, too), which I dropped yesterday. Check it out here:

WORST INTERVIEW EVER

Tommy, if you’re reading this, I’ll send you a check. Just DM me your social security number.

We discussed a lot more, so give it a watch.

Thanks to everyone who hung out.

Cheers.

See ya soon,

Connor

You describe your audience as “vultures who want to extract from a guy who’s got motion.” Classic. Did scamming them feel like getting revenge on a horde of controversy-hungry dolts?

No. I love my readers. My readers keep me alive. The relationship I have with my audience, with the people who have been reading this blog, is the strongest and most meaningful one I feel I’ve had in my life. The people who read this know me better than my parents. Better than any girlfriend. They know me better than I do. Sometimes I say I’ve got “nothing to lose” but that’s not quite true; if I lost the readers I would be devastated, and that is what lately has been holding me back.

The “vultures” I referred to in that post were the people who saw my one story about the “Japanese Sugar Mama” on twitter, who just found me last week, and instead of looking into my account at all just message me asking me what my deal is, if we can meet, if they can interview me for their show, if I’ll shill their coin, vultures who see the enthusiasm around my project and try to insert themselves into it, ride my wave. I know it’s not so simple, everyone comes at me for a different reason, but waking up to 20, 30 DMs from humans who all want something from you is overwhelming and scary when you’re a people-pleaser like me. The same mental condition which drives me to put on this show in the first place makes it really hard to ignore people who reach out to me asking for something, but as this thing gets more and more famous the number of people asking for something increases, which stresses me out and causes me to see them all as “vultures,” and to type that, when the vast vast vast majority of the audience is no such thing, they just lurk, they just read, they just enjoy the show.

So no, “scamming” them did not feel good, it felt awful actually, BUT what I realized as I was doing it is that I wasn’t really taking money from the readers, the long-time readers, I was taking money from the people who happened to see me put the coin up during those 2-3 hours it was active and alive. And buying niche crypto coins is something only a small percentage of people are apt to do. So the people I actually took money from, I’m pretty sure, are crypto nerds who saw me post a coin, thought: Wow this is gonna pop off and I will profit!, and bought in. Literal vultures. My audience size increased from 10k to 20k in a couple days, after building all this for a year and a half now, and the new-half of that audience is where most of the buyers came from, I think. I barely consider them readers. Most real readers would know, I’ve been broke as shit for a while and it’s the theme of so many of the stories, if I see $40k in front of me of course I’m gonna take it, I’m Worst Boyfriend Ever.

A portrait of the artist as a young man^.

You use the word “nigga” in a few of your posts. Do you use this language in everyday conversation, or is this edgy persona reserved for the internet? If so, word up.

I say whatever words I want. That’s what being a writer means. If Nigga feels like the right word for the sentence that’s the word that goes in the sentence. I learned this from one of my idols Louis CK. I can curate and control myself, but the work is at its best when I don’t. And it’s not a racial thing, either. It’s a freedom thing. Sometimes I’ll just type Nigger thirty times in the notes app before I start writing to remind myself, I can say anything I want.

How would you respond to the women who say they’ve been “traumatized” by you? Are you simply using hyperbole when writing about your experiences? What do you think of “woke” culture?

So I was reading your question and you included some quote from some person who apparently knew me from school. (he deleted the quote)

Quote: I was perusing Reddit when I found a post about your blog titled, “Does anyone read Worst Boyfriend Ever on Substack?” Under the post, I found this comment (typos and all):

“I have the misfortune of knowing him irl from school. sorry to be a woke scold, but i have a hard time with the way he is sometimes taken seriously as even potentially producing work of real literary value—none of his writing is fiction btw, he’s incapable of imagination—personally being friends with women he has written about nonconsensually, in graphic and/or violent sexual detail, with the barest veneer of anonymization and who have felt pretty traumatized by it all”

I’m going to go ahead and not read that, because that’s the kind of stuff that slows me down and gives me psychosis. That person didn’t know me then and they don’t know me now, but I’ll read their sentence like they did, and it would hurt, and it would make me second guess myself, and it would stop me from sharing truth. This is why I don’t ever read a single comment, a single review, no public feedback of Worst Boyfriend Ever, good or bad, all my notification bells have been at 99+ for a year and a half since I’ve started, this is what keeps me sane and allows me to keep going, that I’m not stopping to correct haters or explain myself all the time, just keep putting good shit out there and let the work speak for itself.

Women who say they’ve been “traumatized” by me...

Everyone has their own story. With regards to me and with everything. There is no blanket statement I can make for all of them. I can only address them individually. And until one of them reaches back out and asks for some kind of explanation or apology (which literally none of them do...), I feel no need to go back and re-address or explain. All I can say is that I never mean to hurt them. And if you get hurt by somebody who’s not trying to hurt you, who’s fault is that. Most can feel this which is why I haven’t run into legal trouble so far. Most girls understand this is greater than them, they’re just a piece in a larger puzzle, in a big ongoing science experiment that only affects their lives to the degree they choose to invest in it. Whenever any of them ask me to take something down, I take it down. But they don’t, because they understand that it’s art, and it’s not about them, and in most cases, they signed up for it.

But even before Worst Boyfriend Ever, for example this “woke scold” from college, my intent was never to hurt women, I was just trying to make myself happy and get what I thought I wanted, which is what we all do. Some women use me for validation and I use them for sex. They use me to feel less alone, I use them for a story. I use them for science. We all just use each other. I won’t be made to feel bad for any action I took with no ill intent. I don’t care how my actions made you feel, I’m not in control of your emotions. You are. All of (you.)

Are you simply using hyperbole when writing about your experiences? What do you think of “woke” culture?

Nope. Everything I’ve ever shared on Worst Boyfriend Ever has been completely literally true, as I experienced and recalled it. The act of writing it down, curating it necessarily makes it “fiction,” in a way, there is no greater truth than in action, but I don’t hyperbolize I don’t fabricate I share what happened and I curate it down to the most interesting parts. I think that if I made anything up, the audience would be able to tell. Just like how you can tell when a man is larping as a woman on reddit. Maybe not every time, but Over Time, you would be able to tell, that I’m fabricating, and it would no longer be interesting, I think. This is the stuff that drives me crazy when I’m deciding what to share, especially coupled with the fact that the people described in these stories have real lives and jobs and often something to lose. I anonymize, I change details, like name location school work etc, but those are part of the details that make it “real,” so it’s extremely tricky and why I don’t share so often, though I’m writing endlessly every single day.

What do you think of “woke” culture...

I don’t. I just think about this.

Let’s unpack this next quote:

“Yup, that’s where this story goes. I end up scamming this ugly autistic retarded BPD former mental patient who brought me here to Japan out of $2,000 and then ditching her.”

Do you take pride in getting over on people? Or is this just provocative posturing used as a sort of rage bait for plebeians who have menial lives/severe mental illness and nothing better to do than bitch at you?

No and no. That sentence is exactly what happened in the story, from my POV. If I were to wrap it up for you in one sentence, that is it. I do not take pride in it, I actually felt quite bad as I was typing it AND as I was doing it that day, but that is what happened, and I simply record what happened and try to make it funny. The trick is that me feeling bad is funny.

It’s less like: Hell yeah! I got her, that dumb bitch! And more like: Jesus christ, how did I get here. And that is funny, to me, who is the most important audience member. I will write this stuff and then look back on it a few days or a week later and decide: does it make me laugh? And if yes, I post. And I never ever look at the comments, so you telling me that this is “rage bait” is... news to me. It is something different to every person who reads.

When you reference rape, should readers interpret that as a literal admission?

Everything is complicated. The word “rape,” like all words, means different things to different people. To you, it might mean that a girl is drugged unconscious, beaten, sacked by a homeless guy, held down, and against her will, fucked. That is one kind of rape.

But there is a whole spectrum of sexual activity that could be considered a rape, like for example, a girl takes you into her room, you’re cuddling together on the bed, you’ve been spending the past several days together completely in love, and you’re ready to fuck but she’s not entirely sure, but also you think she’s the kind of girl who likes it when you just take it, and trust me those girls exist, BUT the crazy thing about a real rape is that you’re betting she’s that kind of girl as you do it, and usually you bet right, in fact always you bet right, because those girls who get that treatment tend to keep hanging out with/messaging/loving you after, despite the fact that when you first did it you had to wrestle them down pry their legs apart and even once contend with tears in their eyes... see it’s all very complicated. I only rape the girls who I love, and that’s why there have only been two. Readers should accept that when I say “rape” I mean “rape,” to me, as in I felt as if I had raped them, which may or may not align with their conception of what a rape is, in what circumstances it occurs, or what kind of person does it.

I am very deep into my scientific exploration of the female mind and I have encountered many different kinds of subjects. Which is part of why I try not to generalize and mostly just share personal experiences instead. The best way readers can understand what I mean when I say rape, is to read, (he linked a piece here, but fuck that) and make up their own mind based on the evidence given and their own intuitions.

In your most recent piece, you say you bought a prostitute because you didn’t want to be alone in a “pretty nice room.” Is loneliness the engine of your work? Also, are you, or have you ever been, Holden Caulfield?

Momentum is the engine of my work. There is no one reason I do what I do, but the main reason is that it’s what I’ve been doing and I don’t have a good reason to stop. I can’t think of anything better to do with my life right now.

The work is good when it’s honest. And that was an honest statement, that I stepped into that airbnb and thought: “this is nice, i don’t want to spend all my time here alone” -- i think that every time i step into a nice airbnb or hotel room. But sometimes I actually act on it, and that’s why there’s a story there.

I was generally lonely in Japan. Even when I met readers I was lonely. So when I made that money and could go anywhere I flew to NYC. Where I was, for the last month now, suffocated. Turns out I don’t like being a celebrity either. I’m going away into the middle of nowhere again. My truth changes, I am human. But whatever my truth is in the moment I’m recording, that’s what is shared. “Lonely” is too simple of a word, for what I am.

I picked up Catcher in the Rye in 2021, during COVID, right before I started writing. It was the first Book I got through in many many years. I didn’t read a single one through all of college. Obviously it inspired me.

Ever seen the movie KIDS where Telly intentionally tries to infect someone with AIDS?

No. Sounds like somebody who *wants* to hurt people, which I cannot relate to.

Here’s a few reviews of your book:

“the positive: WBE is transparently honest about himself. he can be entertaining and sometimes even funny. but it is a certain kind of "entertaining": a reader will need to be able to appreciate a nihilistic sense of humor full of a particularly glum and annihilating sort of self-hate, as well as have the ability/interest in reading a series of completely excruciating and explicit personal blog posts, in order to "enjoy" this. "enjoy" and " entertaining" decidedly in scare quotes. does a person enjoy watching a car crash? are they entertained when visiting the scene of a crime?

the negative: WBE is not what one would call an enormously talented writer. he's not bad and he does have an interesting aesthetic - deadpan, without affect, with the occasional burst of borderline-hysterical emotionalism to spice things up from time to time - his writing can be compelling and it's always readable. I was reminded of Dennis Cooper (a New Narrative queer writer from the 90s - lol). but outside of that dry, rather chilly style - which sits uneasily alongside many instances of genuine vulnerability - there exists little else. no characterization (besides himself) and a palpable disinterest in other humans; no imagery to speak of; no themes being developed outside of a basic My Life Is Shit; nothing to connect with on either an intellectual or an emotional level. this is a diary being written for public consumption but offering very little in the way of details, motivation, backstory; there is not much for the reader to contemplate. and yet I was hypnotized from beginning to end. and I felt sorry for him in a way that I never felt for Underground Man. does WBE yearn for pity?” - mark monday

“hateable but real ykwim

only read this if you like reading about pathetic worms.” - Kaleigh

“american psycho for chronically online zoomer incels but without the satire or murder. part of me still hopes it’s all a schtick but sadly it isn’t” - sauris

“FULL DISCLOSURE: WBE has been somewhat of a special interest of mine for the past month or so. This book provides nothing as interesting at the free stuff you can read on his substack, a lot of the chapters even being free content you can read on his substack.

If you’re a normal, good person don’t read this at all.” - Campbell Dukes

Pretty harsh stuff, man. I’m not a huge reviewer, ya know?

I’ve read that you ignore all comments and reviews, is that true? Are you really sensitive?

Yes. I can’t bear to read whatever those “reviews” say, though I did catch a glimpse of one that says “black hole,” which is a description of me that the reviewer got from... me. In the book. Where I said that, about myself. If you’re going to hate at least hate on your own terms.

Yes I really don’t read any of them ever. This simplifies my internet experience, somewhat, and I’m sure it makes me look really stoic over time, to just get so much hate thrown at me un-responded to. It’s as simple as never clicking the notification bell, ever. I do read every DM though, and respond to almost all of them, because people are kinder there, and the overwhelming constant love I get from people directly keeps me confident, and that’s where the major disconnect comes from, and that’s part of what keeps this whole thing compelling, and why so many people reach out for interviews. I don’t use social media like a person. Which is correct, I think, because Worst Boyfriend Ever is not a person it’s a curated character built of the 1-2% of my writing interesting or funny enough to be worth somebody’s time, in my opinion.

I am really really really sensitive. Everything I see, consume, affects me. Everyone is like this, some are more aware of it than others. I use this knowledge to protect myself from stimulus that is likely to throw me off course, prevent me from reaching my goals. So far it has been working out pretty well, shutting my eyes and ears to haters. Most of them, as crazy as it sounds, are just jealous. And why would I listen to someone who is jealous of me.

If you stopped having sex with “victims” tomorrow, would you have anything to write about?

I write about so much more than sex, but I rarely share it, because audience capture. By that I mean when I share words not about sex, it doesn’t reach as many readers, and the algorithms that determine what content is ‘good’ and who is sharing it learn that my account is not ‘good’ and stop showing me to people, so the audience stops growing and I stop making money writing and other audience members see this and they lose faith because people are generally sheep who only care about things when other people care about them, myself included, and so the whole thing crumbles, and what the fuck would I do then.

Also, the best stories I’ve shared are not really about sex. Sex just happens in them. Cheating on my girlfriend was not even about sex, it was about my inability to be honest and my long-time hangup about whether or not I was “attractive,” and it was about wanting to be famous by any means necessary, and realizing that I had built for myself a life so dreadfully boring I’d do anything to get caught and break it down, sex is just the reason people click but I think once they get in the door there is so much more and that’s why it’s not porn, that’s why it’s something entirely new.

When I stop being interested in sex I’ll stop writing about sex. And that day is coming.

Finally, with all the hate, the controversy, what does the future hold for the Worst Boyfriend Ever? Another incredible book?

Today I’m in Newark in a Best Western Plus near the airport to be alone. I’m about to fly one way across the country, back to Seattle, get back in the van, and go for a drive. There will be another book this year for sure. Probably in the next few months. Publisher or no publisher it’s coming, because I’m getting sick of re-reading the old one when I need a laugh and don’t want to look at a screen to get it.

Bonus: You claim to have made 30-40k off your crypto scam. Why turn around and ask me for $50 for our interview?

Because I have been doing this over and over and over and over and it makes me feel less raped to get something in return. Also the crypto market dumped massively since I made that because God hates me and wants me broke again, and I spent like a nigger as a bit, so I’m down to just a small fraction of that now, and I have to think about money again. But that’s fine because money isn’t real, when I need more I’ll just get more, that’s how it’s always been.

Daily Double: Have you ever been raped before?

No.

Also my name is not James, it’s Thomas.

ANOTHER BONUS. QUESTIONS FROM :

Exactly how much money have you made from your WBE personality? We want a ballpark monetary amount.

It’s hard to estimate because I haven’t been really tracking money in the past 18 months since I started this thing, because I don’t want to see substack that way, as a money machine. I actually intentionally do not paywall most things because I think in the long run exposure is so much more valuable than another $9 monthly sub.

I’d say, from Substack and Donations and Book Sales in the past 18 months since I started this whole thing, ~$25-30k

and the recent Crypto thing, ~$40k

and I spend it all, niggerishly, like I’m going to die tomorrow.

There seems to be an entire ecosystem of “think pieces” written about you on here. Do you ever read them? We sure don’t, but then again we’re not the direct subjects. If multiple people were writing long think pieces about us we would most likely be curious, and terrified, to read them. Have you slipped up?

The only one I ever read was by Sam Kahn, I don’t know why, I think because I was lonely in that moment and I saw he said it was “genius” in the first paragraph and I thought finally, one of you insider retards get it.

Every single other one I have not read. I just don’t. People message me have you read this? They see me IRL: Mike Crumplar did you dirty bro! Or any of these other 500 jealous too-online haters. No I haven’t read it, I’m sure whatever they said was true, yes I am horrible, yes yes, blah blah blah, on with the show. I have this belief that negative attention doesn’t really matter. I could read 1,000 think pieces about how awful Louis CK is, and I have, and not a single one makes “Hilarious” less enjoyable for me to watch. Trump and Elon were shit on every week with a new “scandal” for years, just the worst stuff, it doesn’t affect them at all. This is the internet. I watched and learned. I noticed in myself: look, as long as these people (louis ck, elon, trump, weird examples i know but) are not specifically trying to hurt me, these accusations, EVEN IF THEY’RE TRUE!! don’t actually make me like them less. They don’t deter me from engaging with them, when they make or do something interesting. I took these feelings in myself and ran with them. All attention is good attention online, especially for me, because I think I have something good to share for people who are baited in.

Why do you want to move to New York? The most interesting parts of your writing are the local color bits when you were driving cross country and the current asian travelog diaries. By far your lamest piece was the one where you were hanging around New York. Beasting for NYC literary fame might be the shark jump for you. This isn’t really a question, more of a warning.

I came to New York to

1. be less lonely because i know people love me here,
2. try to make celine kwon from harvard, who now lives here, finally fuck me so i can get over her, (didnt work)
3. get a taste of what it’s like to be a celebrity irl

I am aware that Beasting for NYC literary fame is the shark jump for me, and that’s why I’m sitting on an 80 page document I am struggling to share. Because I know, it’s not as interesting as traveling. And that’s also why, despite the endless sex and praise, I am flying away, tomorrow. It’s not a good place to do work. Especially because every third person begs me not to write about them, which makes it a whole lot harder to be honest and share good shit, oh I’ll lose my job, oh you’ll ruin my life, yeah I need to get out of here and that’s why I am in a Best Western in Newark right now with a one way flight back across the country tomorrow, to get back in the van, middle of nowhere, try to make something good again.

Two things I can guarantee: he’s going to read this.

And: he’s not getting a cent from me, baby!

A lovely conversation.

You can tell I don’t interact with many people. Too much giggling and uncomfortable laughter. Dan’s easy, though. A funny guy. Sometimes we writers take ourselves a bit too seriously (I do this all the time), so it’s good to laugh about it.

This was a long one. Over two hours. Around thirty minutes in, I ran out of my prepared questions. I thought Dan would want to wind down around then, but an hour and a half later, we were still talking. Time flies during a good conversation.

And hey, I interrupt, I stutter, I fuck up words, my brain malfunctions (benzo withdrawal), but we got it done. I couldn’t stand still. I tend to pace when I talk to people on the phone.

I tend to pace in general.

We covered a lot. His new article regarding NBA YoungBoy, which should be out on March 12th, depending on the publication. (Either or his own Substack.) Also discussed Epstein, Maxwell, Substack beefs, and much more.

Dan suggested I interview C. J. Heath, but he blocked me because I told him his writing sucked. Medieval fiction isn’t really my thing. Maybe I can get (AKA dogpoopwrites, I guess he changed his name) to come on the show. (This is a show now.)

He also suggested I interview about our spat, and that’s something I’d definitely be willing to do. Feel free to reach out. Snowflake vs. Snowflake. (Joking, but really, if you want to, let’s do it.)

Also spoke about , who apparently has a sense of humor about Dan’s incessant jabs on Notes, which I think are hilarious. Let’s do an interview, Tao.

Why not?

Dan’s had great success writing Notes (100 likes on Substack is 10,000 regular likes), so I asked him about his approach.

He has none.

Basically, write the first thing that pops into your head, and publish that.

Good advice.

was mentioned. Although I don’t think the man likes me, I’d be willing to chat with him about his cache of weapons and apparent Xanax addiction, though I vaguely remember him telling me it was all fake. Well, mine wasn’t (Klonopin, not Xanax, but I used to eat bars before I shot up back in the good days), and if you have experience with benzos, I think it’d be a good chat.

Also, , answer your goddamn DMs. It was all a joke. Let’s do an interview. When I told you to guzzle your own diarrhea after a night of drinking only Natty Daddies and Old Thompson, I was totally kidding.

And of course, the night I blacked out and slept with a transexual came up. I based the story on a chapter in my upcoming novel, THE BARMAN. What can I say, I don’t discriminate. I hope you’re well, Stevie.

All you tolerant people out there, put your money where your mouth is.

Or your cock.

Bottom line: I’m an asshole, and I’m lucky that anyone talks to me.

Thanks to , who you should all know as Daniel Falatko. A great writer and friend.

, please explain this—

Shout out to .

Shout out to .

I definitely missed a few people, so go ahead and tag yourself in the comments.

Until next time.

Hate mail: episodesinsapphire@gmail.com

P.S.—Pick up Dan’s novel, The Wayback Machine, here.

And Substack would only let me post this “podcast” to paid subscribers, which I won’t do, so I had to download it and make it a regular post. That’s why it’s horizontal. Sorry. Blame Substack.

Great cover.

Not great.

Not brat.

He is proof that if you work hard, recovery is possible.

Here we talk about his early life, addiction, kratom and 7-hydroxymitragynine, how fitness and diet can positively affect mental health, OnlyFans, and much more.

Special thanks to Brad for taking the time to talk with me.

FOOLISH WISDOM YOUTUBE

BRAD'S ONLYFANS

MORE "BRILLIANT" INTERVIEWS

MY BOOK

THE BARMAN

P.S.—My upcoming novel THE BARMAN is scheduled for release in February 2026.

Our chat was rocky at first, likely because I was up late the night before writing, forgot I had an interview at noon (fucking class act), and texted Pablo around 11:30 a.m. After some boomer-like technical difficulties, we had a great conversation.

Though I feel bad for waking him up, I’m glad I did. Pablo’s a good man. A father. I can tell he’s genuine, which is rare on this platform, and I respect it.

You can find his work here.

And buy his new book of stories, To The Moon, Darkly, published by Nascent Night Press, anywhere books are sold.

READ MORE ABOUT PABLO

WATCH/LISTEN TO ME ACT LIKE A JOURNALIST

"AN OPEN LETTER TO BAR GOERS EVERYWHERE"

He has a new collection of poetry titled The Strange Misgivings Of The Sadly Gifted. You can buy it here.

Subscribe to his Substack and support real art.

Thanks to .

Love,

Connor

I’ve known about Chase’s art for years, yet only recently witnessed his work in person, and I was blown away. Here we get an exclusive studio tour, see works in progress, discuss his origins as a cartographer and painter, and talk about what inspires his brilliant art.

Thanks so much to for agreeing to chat with me.

Thank you to everyone who watched the livestream.

And thank you to for agreeing to chat with me.

Stay tuned for more brilliant interviews.

Special thanks to him for sending me his lovely book and agreeing to speak with me.

BUY SLART'S BOOK

My review of SLART’s book, ART, LIFE, & CREATIVITY—

I’ll be honest, I don’t know SLART. We “met” online, which I’ve found to mean nothing with most people. I was struck by his intentionally cherubic, cartoonish style. He paints with emotion over precision, much like I do with words. One of my favorite writers, Charles Bukowski, once said: “Don’t try.” He didn’t mean: don’t put effort into your work. He meant: don’t push. Let it flow. Be yourself above all else. And when you are, the work will feel good, and people will understand its authenticity.

The modern artist plays many roles: social media manager, promoter, editor, photographer, videographer, audio engineer, sycophant. He needs to follow, like, subscribe, and hopefully rise. Is it merit-based? Does it matter if the work is good? Is there such a thing as good and bad art? These are questions I often ponder, and so far my answers are:

There is good and bad art.

AND

There are more dilettantes today than ever before.

Why? Because there are more people on Earth than ever before.

With that sad truth said, there are also more real artists than ever before. Those who dedicate their entire lives to their craft.

Social media is like a shit stain on the Mona Lisa. It’s said to be a necessary evil that the modern artist must master if he/she/they/fuckface wants to find any semblance of success. Though saturated with opulent trash, some artists cut through the noise and exemplify raw greatness.

SLART is one of those artists.

“SLART AKA Steve Light is a figurative artist, painter, and kidney warrior. He loved drawing for hours as a child but got put off by an A-level art teacher who said, “You can’t draw large scale.” -From the back cover of ART, LIFE & CREATIVITY

I had a similar experience. As a teenager, I was fascinated by fiction and poetry, yet intimidated by the greats, as their mastery of language, grammar, and emotion seemed unobtainable. People would read my work and say, “Yeah, it’s great, man.” When I’d ask what they liked about it, they’d reply, “It’s just great, man. I really like it.”

And that’s it.

That is not the response that great art evokes. Great art makes you think. Makes you feel. As you flip through SLART’s book, each page will bring about a different emotion. He created the book to inspire the blocked artist, painting portraits of famous writers, painters, singers, directors, and visionaries in his own unfettered style. It’s pure truth, through and through.

My favorite piece in the book is a painting of Steve and Picasso staring each other down. To me, it says, “What? You think you’re the only one who can paint, don’t you? Well fuck you, I can too.”

Damn right you can.

-C. James Desmond

You might be asking yourself: “Why would he conduct an interview in such a public place?” The answer is simple: Go fuck yourself. And stop asking so many questions.

That’s my job.

Bitch.

On a serious note, it was truly a pleasure to speak with Daniel. We have a great deal in common.

Strangely enough, I now consider him a friend.

(For the first seven minutes or so we talk about Martha’s Vineyard and restaurant work. And Obama. Skip ahead if you must.)

BUY THE WAYBACK MACHINE

I suppose I’ve become what I hate.

We all must at some point.

Or not?

What the fuck do I know?

Ladies and gentlemen, .

Below are screenshots of the conversation I had with myself in Jerry’s DMs.

Consider this entire fiasco an exercise in public humiliation.

Yeah… I know.

But seriously, it’s not that bad.

You should see what I sent to Chuck Palahniuk.

BUY JERRY'S NEWEST BOOK