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I bullied a famous ROCKSTAR by accident & he became my GROUPIE.
(TL:DR!)
It all started with a random DM. I assumed it was some troll or catfish. So, what did I do? I went full ** mode and insulted the ** out of this scammer.
But plot twist! I get another DM. From a legit blue checkmark-verified account. Yep, it turns out I’d been roasting an actual celebrity. I mean, what could go wrong, right?
Well, let me tell you, EVERYTHING. This dude didn’t just want to chat about music or life on the road. No. He wanted to know my exact address. Not the city, mind you, my freaking address. Creepy much?
Then it got weirder. Like, "What’s your age?" Why does that matter? Oh, and then came the compliments. "You’re so lovely," and "You’re hot and **."
Now, if you thought it couldn’t get any weirder, he starts commenting on his ** preferences outta nowhere. Good to know he likes getting his ** sucked and then telling me, "I was ** to your photo." Excuse me? But of course, that wasn't enough. "Can I bend you over on the sink?" Seriously? Like, do I get a backstage pass for dealing with this BS?
Yeah, things turned into a whole new level of WTF. Some time later, he starts off with the classic, "I'm drunk and I wanna ** your **." And then, as he’s at a show, he’s texting me during the break, "I’m imagining it now."
Soon enough, he tells me my face and smile are goddess-like, like... thanks, I guess? And he had to invite me on a date. How romantic! Except, instead of dinner and a movie, we’re talking about how he sees me as "a cute girl with beautiful **." How sweet! Not. And just when you think it can’t get any weirder, he asks if I can ** just from touching my ** and mentions having "a big **" watching my one story video where I only show off my new jacket. Because obviously, my clothing is premium fantasy material.
"I would be staring at you, watching you," he says. He’s got this whole fantasy where he’s breathing heavy, moaning, and getting goosebumps just from watching me in the audience. Not weird, right? And to top it all off, he’d "much rather think about how nice it would be if you were riding my face." Classy.
Anyway, if you thought his messages were weird, let me tell you about the pictures. First up: he sends me a picture of himself man-spreading on his bed in the tightest speedo known to mankind. Bulge and all. I mean, if you’re gonna send me a picture, at least make sure your undies don’t look like they’re suffering and having a stroke.
Then he sends a picture of his signature gear with my name now on it. The naked bathing pic? Nothing like seeing a rockstar naked and sweating. And for the full "I’m super into myself but also into you" experience, he also sent shirtless mirror selfies and **-naked ** shots.
The collection also includes:
A selfie of him walking off stage, because why not?
Band pics, because he’s gotta include his bandmates.
Backstage pics to prove he’s really living the dream.
Oh, and let’s not forget the videos. Because why just send a pic of yourself with a hard-on, when you can show the real action through videos, of him pulling the luster off the chandelier, sharpening the pencil, drowning the goose, slapping the monkey, strangling the swan, soaping a male cat... whatever you want to call it.
But then there’s the random masterpiece: a picture of a drink he bought in my name. Like, thanks, but I’ll pass.
Now, here’s where it got absurd: I tried to use my friends that he didn't know, as bait to see if he’d hit on them too. Turns out his account is "only for business." Yeah, I guess I was his "business." How flattering.
Anyway, all I can say is that I never sent anything back, changed the topic whenever possible, and eventually, blocked the creep. Now, I can’t even listen to his music without cringing and seeing his ** crack and his post-**-off face.
As for why I entertained this creepiness? Your guess is as good as mine. What a ride that has been.
Was it the Donald?