The Silver Slurper Gets Eaten by a Giant Frog


Boring part first, fun part later. Although the boring part is so fucked-up and Byzantine, it might interest you despite its being about (what else) my mortgage mess.

Most of my week was taken up with bawling and gut-churning indecision over this fiasco. Those who have been following along know that I was approved for an extremely ill-advised loan back in 2007, and despite the fact that I never earn more than $35,00 per year, was somehow offered a $340,000 mortgage…which, despite the fact that I’ve already paid $125,000 toward it, has now ballooned to $375,000 thanks to interest, late fees and penalties). Meanwhile, the house is now worth $90k. Go figure!

For the last few years I’ve been doggedly pursuing a loan modification. Over the three years, many people told me I was being foolish, and that it would never work out and I might as well just “walk away” (let the bank foreclose and take my house). Well, for once in my life I was actually OPTIMISTIC, and wrote off those people as negative haters. I figured if I just stuck to my guns, and faxed, scanned & emailed endless reams of documents as per the bank’s demands…in the end, it would pay off and they would work with me. I figured I was doing the right thing by not just abandoning the house and thus creating more residential blight…but BOY, was I ever wrong!

I stuck to my guns for 3 years, finally getting a trial loan modification and then a mediation hearing, where my bank was supposed to offer me a workable deal. But the deal they offered me was terrible: all they would do was extend the term of my loan from 30 to 40 years, and bring my interest rate down from 6.25% to 5%. BIG FRIGGIN’ DEAL! They flat-out refused to reduce my principal… so I finally had to give up and admit defeat 🙁

After three years of struggling, it is a bitter pill to swallow…but after crying for around 30 hours, I figured that finally coming to this realization would actually be liberating; for the past 3 years I’ve been stressed, miserable, confused and have suffered debilitating depression and insomnia. I figured finally just letting go, giving in, letting them win and take my house back would initially suck, but…I’d get over it in time, and would actually be better off. WRONG AGAIN!

Listen up, all of who say I should “just walk away.” They always say “just” walk away…like it’s the easy answer; a walk in the park. I’m here to tell you: IT ISN’T!

These fuckers make it NEXT TO IMPOSSIBLE to ever be free. They’re not satisfied with taking my house back — they want to pursue me into the ground and get every last drop of my blood. I’m serious! I already offered to give ’em the house back if they would just write off my debt (what’s called a Deed in Lieu of Foreclosure)…but of course they wouldn’t take it. They want me to try and short sell it first, which is fine and I don’t mind doing it…except for the fact that EVEN if I’m able to find a short sale buyer, I’m still not guaranteed that they’ll sign a waiver releasing me from the rest of the debt. And in a short sale, they have SIX YEARS to come after you for the money you owe them!

I’m also afraid those greedy fucking bloodsuckers won’t even accept a short sale in the first place — they look at your financials and then decide if they should “let” you short sell. I would think that looking at my own financials (I make around $2000 per month, and my mortgage payment is $2300), that it would be a no-brainer. But you’d be surprised…especially considering the fact that I’ve just spent THREE YEARS trying to convince them I’m in good enough financial health to make a loan modification worthwhile to them. It’s a fucking nightmare!

Another thing hampering my case is the fact that my foreclosure proceedings actually started back on March 29…so I’m pretty far along in the process. My attorney thinks I have about 3 months before they sell my house at auction, so I’m in a race against the clock to find a buyer in time. If I don’t, they take my house (which is fine with me)…but then they have 6 months to come after me for the money I owe them! And according to my attorney, they really are starting to come after people — and not just the big fish. Regular pissant peasants, like me, are now being sued by multi-billion-dollar banks for their mortgage debt — they want their pound of flesh, and by God they’ll get it! Even if they have to drive you into the poorhouse/insane asylum/off a bridge to try and get it.

Soooooo….I’m basically panicking, and in a state of constant agony. My eyes are a puffy, swollen mess, my stomach feels like it’s eating itself alive, and I’ve been drinking myself into a stupor every night just to try and sleep to forget about it for a few hours. I just want to be free. ATTN CHASE BANK: you can HAVE the $125,000 I’ve already given you — and you can have the house back, in perfect condition! DO YOU REALLY NEED MORE? Do you really need to hunt me down and ruin my life over this? Are you that fuckin’ greedy, assholes? Apparently, yes!

My best-case scenario is if I can find a short sale buyer ASAP. Sooooooo…. with that in mind, I present you the Deal of a Lifetime: Who Wants to Buy My House?! If interested, click on the link below to see photos and specs of the property. I expect it to be appraised at between $90k-$110…so someone will be getting a REAL STEAL on a badass historical house that’s oooooozing with character. Look for yourself:

Who Wants to Buy My House?

The worst part of all this is, I have at least one friend and a few family members who have offered to buy the house for me, then sell or simply gift it back to me. Unfortunately, this is illegal — as part of a short sale, you have to sign an “Arm’s Length Affidavit,” which basically affirms that the buyer is not a family member or a business associate, and that you will never, ever buy the house back from them or from anyone else, EVER. Even 50 years from now! They want to make sure they’re fucking you good and hard, tearing your perineum as badly as possible. If you dare lie on this affidavit, they can come after you for the very serious offense of mortgage fraud.


You wanna talk about mortgage fraud? I bought my house in 2008, when comparable properties in the area were going for around $250,000. I paid $380,000! Why? Because the appraiser assured me it was really worth $380,000! And why did he do that? Let’s speculate: the woman I bought the house from was a Realtor herself, and she owed $500,000 on the house…so she was trying to short sell it for $400,000. We offered $320k, she came back with $380k. And conveniently, she had an appraiser all lined up and ready to go “if” we needed one. Of course, they were probably in cahoots, and he deliberately over-appraised the house so that she could get the bank off her back…meanwhile leaving me on the hook to pay for it for the rest of my miserable life. THANKS A LOT, BITCH! Then some crookedy-ass fucker at the bank approved my no-doc loan, undoubtedly knowing full well I’d end up foreclosing…and they still got $125,000 out of me plus a huge write-off for the foreclosure. THAT’S MORTGAGE FRAUD!

It makes me so mad I can hardly breathe…but what really makes me mad is the fact that THERE IS NOWHERE I CAN TURN! NO ONE CARES that I was a victim of mortgage fraud — but God forbid I try to sell the fuckin’ place to a family member. They can perpetrate all the fraud they want…but the minute I try and do it, forget about it. I could sue Chase, but I ask you….how far would I get with that?!?! I’m a fucking peon peasant — I can’t afford to sue the King. They’d grind me into the dirt. So…all I can do is sit here and seethe, and pray that someone comes along with cash to buy my house tomorrow. It’s a nightmare!

I did come up with one idea to get back at ’em, though. If they refuse to approve the short sale, or if they refuse to waive my deficiency in the event of a short sale, I AM GOING DOWN TO THE #OCCUPYLASVEGAS ENCAMPMENT (which is in a shitty little parking lot across from the airport) AND INVITING THEM ALL TO CAMP IN MY YARD!!! As mentioned I have a huge lot — plenty of room for all those tents and bullhorns. We’ll occupy the FUCK out of my house, and make it next to impossible for those fuckers at Chase to take it back! LOLZ!!!!! My neighbors will hate me…but guess what? They ain’t gonna be my neighbors for very much longer, anyway.

Anyhoo, ENOUGH mortgage talk. Now for the fun half of my blog. I was so miserable about all of this all week that it was extremely difficult to have a good time — but somehow, I still managed! No thanks to work, though –the headliner in the showroom where I do my souvenir photo job has rotated again, and this fucking Mullet McWartface has been playing all month. It’s terrible! The problem stems from the fact that his fanbase consists of crinkly old cougars, most of them from down South, all of them with big blonde hair and too many crow’s feet to ever want to buy a souvenir photo. All they wanna do is jump onstage and rape Mullet McWarftface — seriously! Even at his advanced age (67), the women are crawling at his feet. It’s hilarious!

Not so hilarious is the fact that I’ve been making piss-poor money as a result of these miserable hags — only $30-60 a night! Thankfully I don’t count on that job to support me anymore, and was able to scare up some other work to make ends meet. One day I went over and filmed new videos for my medical/breath-holding fetish website — we did the usual heartbeat stuff, including a clip of me underwater in the bathtub having my heartbeat recorded (?!?!???), and then did some belly-noise clips. For these videos, the fans like it when you have lots of growling and churning noises in your belly, so usually I’ll eat something weird and fucked-up before filming one. Well, this time I didn’t need to worry about it — all the worry and stress has made my belly a permanently roiling bog of terror and acid reflux…and it went bananas on camera! Talk about making lemonade…I’ve already sold several of these clips! The fans love it!

Then I did a shoot for the awesomest website in the world,, in which I did the usual burping, farting, sneezing and overeating shtick. It was great, especially the overeating part because it was ice cream (!!!!!Yay!!!!!) — and the director, this awesome young chick named Claire, told me to fart or whatever as needed while eating. So….I farted — a pretty loud one, too, but because I’m lactose intolerant it was soooooo foul that Claire almost dropped the camera! And she’s one to talk — she does the grossest stuff on that site (look it up if you don’t believe me).

But the best video we filmed that day was this custom request from a fan who wanted to see a girl get eaten by a giant frog! Claire brought over this frog-shaped clothes hamper, and we filmed a mini-epic in which I get undressed to get in the shower, leaving my clothes on the counter next to the frog. After I get in the shower, the frog sticks out his tongue and eats all my clothes, gobbling them up with relish (Claire was hiding in the hamper, with a long pink sock covering her arm to look like a tongue, LOL). I get out of the shower and look around for my clothes: “What the fuck?! I just put them down right here!” I eyeball the hamper suspiciously…then open it up and reach my arm in to get my clothes back out — at which time the “frog” sucks me down and gobbles me up! I scream and struggle around for ten minutes as the frog eats more and more of me (this was achieved through many cuts and many creative camera angles), and then finally, after the tips of my toes disappear into the frog’s mouth, the frog licks his lips and burps out my panties. LOLZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As far as trying to understand the psychology behind this particular request…the best I could figure is that it’s basically a form of vore. Vore is a fetish in which the guy dreams of being eated and digested by a giant woman — apparently reverse vore is when a guy dreams of a WOMAN being eaten and digested by a monster or frog (one popular vore model just covers her boyfriend with a blanket and calls him a “monster…” Talk about shitty production values!). Well, Claire and the good people at GirlsGoneRude will not settle for shitty production values, so she is working on building a full-size monster that can actually “eat” women whole. LMFAO!!!!! I can’t wait to see it! And shoot with it!!

Now aside from fetish, I also did a couple regular old-fashioned photo shoots this week. One was with this traveling Bohemian art nude model I know (the one from my hot lesbo photos a few months back, the ones that got me deleted from Google+) who had arranged a shoot with a photographer in a room at Harrahs. Never the most exciting place to shoot…but interestingly, this was the same location and same photographer I shot with for my very first paid nude shoot! Ah, memories… that was back in November 2008. I’ve come a long way, baby!


My other shoot was a creative funfest with Randy Fosth a/k/a Shutterbug Studio. I havethis long black wig I bought for $3 at a thrift store (a real steal, considering it was originally TEN DOLLARS at WalMart)…so you can imagine what a shitty-quality wig it is. Still, I used it for those Dia de Los Muertos photos I did back around Halloween, and it looked pretty good on camera. So I decided we should do a Cher photoshoot in it!

First, I put out the call on Facebook: “Does anyone have an Indian headdress I can borrow for a photo shoot?” Out of alllllllll my 1,000+ “friends,” most of whom are artsy costume-type people…NOT ONE PERSON responded 🙁 So I went to my favorite costume store, HalloweenMart, but all they had was a deluxe $35 model…and I didn’t want to spend $35 for a one-off photo. But I checked all over town, and that was the only thing I could find…so I just went ahead and bought it. Fuck it, I’m losing my house anyway…might as well spend a few bucks and have some fun.

I looked up some drag queen tutorials on YouTube, to see how professional female impersonators make their features look like Cher. Thanks to a couple of extremely fabulous videos (shout out to Misty Valley Paramount and Breathless in Wonderland), I was able to recreate Cher’s hooded eyelids, loooooong face and high cheekbones….sort of. Well enough, anyway!

Then I figured, since I had the wig on anyway, might as well do some Toke-a-hontas shtick with it (at right). Alas, I didn’t have a real peace pipe with me….just my friend J.R.’s regular glass pipe.

Then I went from one kind of Indian to the other, doing a look I’ve always wanted to recreate: Bollywood!!! I find everything about Bollywood fabulous (well, except for this one time in Fed. 2010 when I was an extra in a Bollywood movie filming out at Lake Las Vegas, for which I STILL haven’t been paid for), and I’ve always wanted to dress up like a Bollywood starlet. I put on this Nepalese wedding jewelry my mom gave me for my birthday one year, and went to town. Randy’s idea was to make it look like I was enslaved in a Calcutta brothel, so he wanted me to cry…but unfortunately, my tear ducts were exhausted from having been sobbing allllll week long, so I remained dry-eyed. D’oh!

Anyway, after all that the wig was basically trashed…but I still hung onto it. Because… you never know 🙂

Now meanwhile, through all this my friend J.R. was in town, having a mental breakdown of his own. He says he’s under a lot of stress because of all his money, and everyone wanting a piece of him, and a bunch of other stuff going on in his life (including a severe midlife crisis), so he ended up staying in Vegas WAY past his original departure date. He delayed his departure date twice, the second time after I had already dropped him off at the airport! He ended up taking a cab to a “shitty dive” motel near the airport, which I’m sure couldn’t have been that bad (although he made it sound like the worst fleabag dump in Mogadishu)…but apparently it was bad enough that he ended up moving to the Luxor, where he ran into some trouble with a Lady of the Night.

Apparently, he was hanging around the casino at Planet Hollywood (why on Earth anyone would do that, I have no idea…I despise that facility) when he ran into this tall, beautiful big-titted blonde. Just his type — although as mentioned many times, he has a weakness for all hot girls, no matter the specs. Anyway, after negotiating a “party” fee, she drove him to the Luxor in her shitty old beater car, and proceeded to blow him and then rob him of $2000! He sent me some pics of her, in case I ever run into her (I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do…kick her ass? Puncture her implants?)…and I found them faaaaaascinatingly depressing and evocative of Diane Arbus. Lesson learned, J.R….although you’d think he would have already learned his lesson, since this has already happened to him once!!! LOLZ! Even now, he’s in Miami with that fake blonde bitch Bobbi Jo (one of the mean whores he brought to dinner with me one night in Vegas)…better watch yourself, J.R.!

After J.R. left, I busied myself with more mortgage-related hell….but took one short break to participate in the Sons of Italy’s heralded Spaghetti-Eating Contest down at the South Point casino. I was driving home from my medical fetish shoot earlier in the week when I saw the contest advertised on their marquee…and knew I had to enter! I’ve dabbled in competitive eating for a few years now, having beat my ex-brother-in-law at an ice-cream eating contest once, but I’ve had mixed results. I failed miserably in the Nathan’s Hot Dog qualifying round here in Vegas (I placed 6th out of 12, but they were all men), and then another time my friend Boris and I tried to complete the pizza challenge at MoonDoggie’s (a local bar), but we failed at that too — and now our photo is up forever on their Wall of Shame 🙁

Anyway, for this spaghetti contest, the prize was $1,000 for whoever could eat the most 1-pound plates of spaghetti in seven minutes. I didn’t really expect to win, but I figured you never know….all the big-time competitive eaters might not enter because of the piddly prize money, so I might have a chance. With that in mind, I created a persona, dressed all in glittering silver: The Silver Slurper. At the Nathan’s hot dog contest (and all other competitive eating events sponsored by the IFOCE — International Federation of Competitive Eaters), the participants all had funny names and backstories and entrance music and stuff, so I figured I’d join in. Alas, this contest wasn’t an officially IFOCE-sanctioned event….so the emcee just looked at me like I was weird. (The IFOCE’s emcee is an AMAZING silver-tongued, garrulous carny with a straw boater and a seersucker suit…he is a GENIUS! See pic at left.) This spaghetti contest emcee was just some local goombah, though…and he didn’t know what to make of me.

There were sooo many people at this contest (apparently $1,000 IS a good prize amount for this type of thing…d’oh) that they broke it down into 3 heats. After watching the first two heats, I knew I had no chance: in the first round, this little old man named Rich “the Locust” LeFevre crammed 10 POUNDS of spaghetti down his gullet! This man is nothing short of amazing: at the age of 67, this wizened little sprite is a full-time pro competitive eater who can put away ASTONISHING amounts of food…without gaining an ounce. He trains for this stuff very methodically, and the best part is that his wife is ALSO a competitive eater! I don’t remember her name, but she’s one of those slim, perfectly-coiffed glamorous grandma types with oversized sunglasses and pearls and stuff. TOO COOL! She comes to all his eating matches to cheer him on (when she’s not doing her own eating, at which she is also amazingly good). Anyway, I remember her well because back in the day at that hot dog contest, as I was the only female contestant, she cheered for me very lustily. Sweet!

Anyway, once I saw the Locust was in the game, I knew it was all over. Then, ANOTHER contestant — one of the amateurs, no less — ate ELEVEN pounds! So at that point, I settled on just being the top female eater. But even THAT goal was demolished when this little tiny gal in round 2 ate TWELVE POUNDS of spaghetti!! Come to find out, she is actually a pro as well…oh well.

Anyway, by Round 3 I knew I had zero chance of setting ANY sort of record…so I settled for just not getting sick. I ended up eating 3 pounds, 4 ounces of spaghetti (which I don’t even LIKE)…and then later that night, I went home and ate a bunch of leftover P.F. Chang’s and half a carton of ice cream 🙁 (I was depressed, dammit!)


Anyhoo, thanks to my friends Guy and Jen for coming along and taking these awesome photos. My face was stained bright orange for the rest of the day from the grease in that nasty-ass sauce (now I know why I hate spaghetti!).







OK, now I gotta go get ready for my foot fetish photo shoot with….time to kick some more ass, yay!!! And after that, I have a hot date with my drag queen friend, Jennifer (a/k/a Jenny Bunny)! We’re going to the Heart Attack Grill so I can FINALLY indulge in one of their Quadruple Bypass Burgers (plus of course fries and a butterfat shake). All this overeating is good preparation for Thanksgiving, ya know!

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Guy Chapman

I can’t really comment on the top part much more than just reiterating that I’m here for you when you need a shoulder to lean on. Surprisingly, there’s a few new and decent houses open around my area, all foreclosed on, of course.

“Vore” sounds bizarre, but the frog thing is hilarious. Come to think of it, it’s still bizarre.

Speaking of eating challenges, I so wanted to do the 6 pound burrito thing at Sahara before they closed. I even went all primed to go, but they stopped doing it a week or two before the end. I was so pissed! I even skipped eating a meal or two in order to try. To make matters worse, they didn’t even have the regular size one! And thusly, I raged endlessly into the night. The End.

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