Importance of Words (and Explosive Verbal Diarrhea)


Have you seen the new government-issued climate change report? IT’S RIGHT HERE

Sometimes people put blinders on when they don’t want to believe something because it’s too hard to grasp, frightening, intimidating, etc. It’s pretty bizarre to be living in the current world of human activities and be told that we are heading towards certain doom if we don’t change what we are doing NOW.

What is easier is to be given hope. We CAN change the current path we are on.

The number one leading cause of global warming today is animal agriculture. If every person who ate meat cut their meat and dairy intake in half, we would be living in an entirely different world.

It’s mostly the output of various greenhouse gases from the processes of mass animal agriculture that is contributing to global warming. Carbon dioxide, nitrogen, and methane are the three main contributing greenhouse gases, and they are being released in explosive amounts into the atmosphere. Think of it like, humans have explosive diarrhea, but it’s the result of eating animal products. Gross, huh? Not caring about what we are doing to the planet is like not caring that humans are explosively shitting into the atmosphere at an alarming rate. It’s like we’re walking around with poopy butts, being poopy heads about it, pretending it’s no big deal, etc, etc, etc.

When we say things like “it doesn’t matter,” we are shutting down our ears from hearing what we need to hear. We also plant seeds of ignorance for other people to sow when we speak without knowledge of the facts. Scientific facts. We can ignore the truth, but we cannot make it go away.

We’ve all battled outdated beliefs at some point or another. What do we do? Well, we can vigorously defend our fallacies or take a deep breath and practice loving ourselves enough to realize we were wrong, accept it, learn from it, and move past it.

When we say things like we could use “a little bit of that good old global warming” because somewhere on the planet is having a cold snap, we are deliberately misinterpreting the MAJOR difference between weather and climate (ahem, TRUMP: that was his quote). Trump has a major verbal diarrhea problem. He said this in the wake of California’s DEADLIEST FOREST FIRE EVER, the Camp Fire in Paradise, CA that torched nearly 90 people to death.

Don’t be like Trump. He’s in his seventies and doesn’t care about the climate’s future because he knows he will be dead or catapulted cryogenically into the future like Dr. Evil. Quit shitting all over future generations’ futures. Seriously.

Please think about this, and please consider eating a little less animal product this new year. Every little bit helps, and we are all in this together.

Happy Last Month of 2018,




a final word

Have you ever had someone tell you something that they believed would come to pass, and then have it actually happen? Or have something happen, and then have a stranger from the other side of the planet pick up on it? I have. I have had quite a few of these kinds of experiences.

I want to share part of one of these experiences, and then I will probably just step away for a bit. I have contemplated the pros and cons of sharing this with the public. For the most part, some experiences are just too sacred or special to share with strangers. Is this one of those kinds of experiences? Perhaps. In talking about it, I can already tell you what will happen: Reddit trolls will laugh at me, someone who writes for an online tabloid will call me crazy, and one or two other people will actually repeat my very personal story and appropriate it (which is laughable and predictable, and I have ceased caring). So many of those tabloids and trolls are employed by Discovery or its affiliates. Only six corporations run most of the world’s mass media. I gain absolutely nothing from sharing this, but more criticism. But, here I go anyways, with nothing to gain but a desire to be understood, and to share this with you:

I received a solar return reading when I turned twenty-one, while I was attending my healing arts school. I asked our herbology teacher for the reading. I fully believe she is psychic, though she never claimed to be.

Ok, so what I am going to say here, you probably will not believe. Just understand that I have no desire to give people more ammo to accuse me with. By “ammo,” I mean, I open my mouth or put a word on my blog, and someone will purposefully misinterpret it. There will always be some Machiavellian keyboard warrior out there waiting to rephrase my intentions. Fuck them. I could wrap what I am about to say in about three more equally unbelievable but true stories that all fit together in a way, but I am only going to share one part. Maybe I will write a book one day and share everything, but I want to keep this short for now.

What my teacher told me was that, with my impending move further west, I would “help a lot of people with the written word.” When I asked her what that meant, totally confused, she looked at me and said “it has something to do with NAA?”

(LOL, See, I told you, you probably would not believe me).

I asked her what was “NAA,” and she was like, “I thought you would know.” All I could think of was n/a, ie “not applicable.” I just remember being confused. This was back in 2006.

So fast forward for a second. I was first aware of Naked and Afraid (which has become dubbed by contestants and staff as “NAA”) in 2014, and the show itself came about in 2013, I believe.

Crazy, huh?

My point here is, I think that everything that happened with me on the show, and this blog, all of it, were all kind of meant to be. This is one huge reason why I have maintained my sense of righteousness in my situation. I have always been honest and open about what happened, with the exception of the brief period of time in 2014 when I was getting threatened and manipulated into being quiet. Should have events unfolded in any other way, there may have been nothing to write about. Why would someone call out the media if the media’s lies benefited them? And though of course some may refer to this as self-fulfilling, please realize that it has been a very heartbreaking ride for me. It once occurred to me that perhaps by “written word,” my teacher was somehow mistaken and “written word” could have meant television. But, no. She was completely literal and 100% correct, and my life unfolded in a way that was largely out of my hands, and my only recourse has been the written word. She was completely accurate.

I do not care about fame, fortune, power, popularity, any of it. I have always taken opportunities as they arose and done the best I could with very little resources. Most of all, I genuinely care about helping people. And, if a hundred people read about what happened, start understanding how the media can be manipulated, and start talking with other people, I am happy.

There is a hypothesised phenomenon called “The Hundredth Monkey Effect.” This is what I care about. I am willing to put myself out there and be called a thousand names by a million people, hundreds of millions of people, if a hundred people read and understand and take the truth with them back out into the world. This is my heart and soul speaking.

So, I hope that this makes sense to one of you today. I get people from 170+ countries reading my blog, which pretty much adds up to about how wide Discovery’s reach is. So as I have said before, in order to make a positive difference in the world, I have had an uphill battle and had to contend with a lot of trolls and hate. It is a challenge, and one that I probably signed up for, but I can not say it has gotten any easier.

Please realize too, that the producers know that I was conscious in Brazil, but they will NEVER, EVER admit it because they make a fortune from those episodes. They knew I was telling the truth as soon as I came out and said what happened in detail, because they have all the footage and they know I am right. No one secretly told me what everyone was talking about during the extraction, no one showed it on TV; I was awake and heard it all, loud and clear. If you read anything about the producers “not believing me,” just know, they do. They do believe me, that is why they left me alone instead of threatening me again. It seems that people I talk to in real life usually have no problem understanding that reality TV is a hoax, but for some reason most people online do not seem to understand this. Discovery was and is manipulative and exploitive on so many levels, it goes far beyond gross negligence. They make money off of their dishonesty, they make money off of exploiting people (please read about Cody Lundin from Discovery’s “Dual Survival,” if you have not yet:  https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/thr-esq/judge-rules-reality-stars-contract-doesnt-bar-defamation-suit-discovery-1093318

I have had several other NAA contestants thank me for speaking out. I speak out for everyone, not just myself, but for you.

You need to realize what the media does to people. This is not just about reality TV: it is about war, climate change, everything. Nothing could possibly be more relevant to life today than the methods that the powers that be use to keep people in an unaware state of complacency.

You may leave this post with a sense of understanding, and I hope you do.

But I dare say, if you have the energy and will to go out of your way to discredit me like it is your job, you may very well be working with the dark side.


Which side are you on?


A Conversation with [People Who Claimed to Be] Human Traffickers

By “people,” I mean GOVERNMENT EMPLOYEES. Supposedly. These are people who at least used to work for the government.


***Ok, just a warning: This is another long article about really fucked up shit. Really, really fucked up shit, to be precise. If you do not want to read about it, you can find happier shit on my blog via the table of contents tab.***

I’ve been up in the air about whether or not to readdress this topic, but before I go on I want to make it clear that I have nothing to gain for writing this, other than a clear conscience. I figured since one of my articles has received nearly 150,000 views, why not post about this ordeal again here, on my blog. It’s important, plus I’ve already gone public with it. I haven’t written about it specifically on this blog yet until now.

The summary is: there are some brothers in Colorado, in their fifties, who serially stalk people after posting seemingly harmless Craigslist ads for “Indy films.” They talk about really gross shit, like castration and mutilation. They are or were government employees. Whenever anyone calls them out, they troll them online, threaten them, and smear campaign them. Their victims are mostly women, however if you look hard enough you’ll find they also troll and smear men. This is all important and worth discussing because they talk about hurting minors and sexually abusing them, which is illegal. They use one of their real names and an alias when stalking, and all share the same contact info.

I’ve talked about this for years but thought it should be mentioned again since the #metoo movement last year. First, I want to ask YOU some questions:

What would you do if you had been told by a couple of supposed government employees that they moved sex slaves into the United States?

What if they claimed to hurt those “slaves?”

What if they claimed those sex slaves were sometimes teens? Minors?

Would you turn away? Would you stay silent?

I want you to look at this article, read it, and share it. If you care about people, or the free world, you shouldn’t take this lightly. This isn’t a joke. If indeed these people are still employed by the government, the government needs to hold them accountable and stop this immediately. It has been going on for decades. It is extreme harassment, cyberstalking, and libel, coming from two (or more) men and directed at many, many tax-paying citizens.

I am going to lay down my horrific experience of 9 years ago. I have mentioned this on social media beforeーyou can look on Reddit, search my old username “Nandacast.” Prior to using that username, I went on Reddit with another username and spoke about this as well. I also posted about this on Facebook and Instagram.


The above screenshot is one of those times. Every time I speak out about it, these guys have a blog reply. Their blog replies are super weird and often include naming long lists of women who I don’t know, and talk about the stuff they were talking about but in a way that makes it sound like I or these other women were talking about it. It’s a common modus operandi of cult behavior because it essentially dilutes the truth to an undiscerning reader or observer. They’ve definitely creeped out a lot of women. Here’s a little more of that March 2015 Facebook post, where they lump me in with other women who are supposedly “dying to have sex with them” and call me a self-professed alien something or other. Uh no. No all around.




So this may be time #6 or #7 or so where I am publicly addressing what happened. I am going to leave it alone after posting this. It took me a lot of contemplation over whether or not to compile this into a blog piece. I am using these men’s real names because I am telling the truth and they have broken several laws surrounding libel, defamation, stalking, threatening, andーas they sayーHUMAN TRAFFICKING. They are con artist career criminals and they have threatened me repeatedly.


So I started with Reddit.

Reddit’s policy is if the issue is serious, contact the police. Well, I did. I contacted five police departments, the FBI, and three anti-human-trafficking networks. Repeatedly. In fact, I’ve dedicated weeks of my time every other year to contacting authorities about these people, who by the way are reading this because they have made it very clear that they cyber stalk me and other women who have spoken out about them. The Coots men (creepy stalkers) found my Reddit post and replied to it, and threatened me. So I deleted the initial account after being bullied on Reddit. This was all in 2011/2012. A year later, I went back and looked at the post. Other women had responded and I could still see their responses in the comments section of the archived post. They went by the user names of FilmIndustryVigilantes, ToSirDiana, and HunterAlamo. I contacted these women and found that one of them indeed had a Facebook account and was who they said they were.

film industry vigilantes reddit

tosirdiana reddit

If you actually go onto Reddit and look up any of these posts, you will see a lot of bullying going on. It has been difficult to talk about this experience and have people believe us or understand without all the photographic evidence compiled. Reddit often results in bullying, too, and some of this bullying may have actually been instigated by these men themselves as they are con men and have made it clear that they are constantly scanning the internet for sites where people have called them out.

Before I go on, I want to say that last October, during the #metoo movement, I was contacted by another woman. She owns an acting school in Colorado Springs, near where these people are located. She came out publicly on Facebook and condemned these men for harassing her actors. There was a fair amount of commenting and interaction on her page. I’ve blocked out her name per her request, but she is aware that this blog post exists.




Either she and a lot of other people legitimately have been harassed as well, or they are in on the whole thing. I’d like to think they’re not in on the whole thing, but another woman did send me some questionable Facebook messages a while back:


I mean, again I would like to think she’s not in on this either, but this was my last correspondence with this other woman and it was a little weird. So fuck it, it’s all going up on the internet, everybody. I’m going to assume that “woman A” and “woman B” are good-hearted people and equally peeved at these men out in Colorado, but all of this is getting published for the sake of shining a light.

I am attaching screenshots of “woman A’s” post, as well as others pertaining to these people who told me they are human traffickers. This absolutely is not imaginary or fictional, as you can see, I have nothing to gain by sharing this other than fulfilling a moral obligation. I can not sit quietly or ignore it, and if this happened to you, you wouldn’t either (I hope). I’m also including an email from Gregory Coots’ other brother, Gary, sent to my public email in 2016. In it he asks me to contact him, I do not know why. That’s not happening.  This was forwarded on to multiple people and organizations, as has been all of this information that I am posting.



I want to start by saying that all this began years before being on Naked and Afraid. When you read this, keep in mind that this was all prior to actually working in Hollywood on any legitimate project. Like many other women, I was oblivious to how dark a place the world can be and I was unaware of the proper and usual processes that Hollywood producers go about their business.

I’m not saying my experience on Naked and Afraid was all sunshine and rainbows either, but it wasn’t like this. There are some commonalities, mostly within the realm of taking advantage of people. But this is way different.

It was December of 2009 and I had a job offer in Boulder, Colorado, to run a new massage clinic out of a medical cannabis dispensary for someone who used to be my boss years earlier. I had lived in Colorado before. I was living on the west coast and supporting one of my siblings. I sold many of my belongings, such as snowboards and my bicycle, to buy a 2-door Jeep for $500, and my sibling and I took off for Colorado in that.

Before moving inland, I was looking for other jobs on Craigslist. The dispensary hadn’t officially opened yet, and I wanted to have work lined up. I applied for 3 different kinds of jobs: massage therapy, restaurant, and acting.

I responded to a very nondescript Craigslist post looking for actors for an “Indy Film.” It asked for a few photos and basic information.


I forgot about that post. Six to eight weeks went by. I was in Boulder, and I received a phone call from a restricted number.

It was a person who went by a name of “Antonia.” Their voice sounded kind of manly, but they called themself a woman and spoke with the fluidity of someone who knew a lot about women’s perspectives. I assumed it was either a woman who had smoked a lot, or a transvestite, orー a man. Antonia was ecstatic that they had found my response in their pile, and said they were desperate for an actress for their “vampire film.” Antonia worked for two companies, which seemed mostly indistinguishable from each other: Lartu Vox, and Myelin Productions. Antonia asked me to send Lartu Vox’s Facebook a friend request so they could look at my profile and decide what role I was to play in their film. Please keep in mind that this was years before smartphone and screenshot technology was accessible to me. Otherwise there would be a few more screenshots here. However, I did print everything out, make copies, and distribute them to multiple people and agencies (see above email).

Then Antonia asked if the movie’s producer, “Sir” Gregory Coots, could give me a call. He called me from a traceable number that was also the one listed for Myelin Productions and one of his two brothers, Michael Coots. *Michael Coots also has a podcast that talks about UFOs and gore porn, is an ex police officer, and was (or is?) claiming to be a registered Colorado “psychopathologist” who works with traumatized individuals. Weird/creepy/possibly illegal. But I didn’t know any of these things, at least for a while until I hired a private investigator. He shares all his business contact information with Gregory. He is also listed as a producer for Gregory’s “projects.” As far as I am concerned, he is just as involved in this as Gregory is.

If you research Gregory Coots, you will also see that a teenage girl brought charges against him a little over a decade prior (1999), for threatening her life and stalking her while he was her counselor at a military camp. The charges were brought against multiple people, including the US Airforce, and then the case was dropped. I am including screenshots.

Gregory and Antonia proceeded to take turns calling me that first night. Then they called me again, the next night. And again, and again. They spoke with me over the phone from about 6pm to 4 am for about 3 weeks straight.

Ok, any normal person at this point is probably thinking “why would I talk to these people.” That’s a great question. Another great question would be, “why would two middle aged adults have the time or care to spend so much time talking to one person, and that person be me?”

Right off the bat, Antonia segued from “Indy Vampire Film” to the sex industry business. She said she worked with companies like Playgirl and others. Antonia asked me if I would be willing to do “survey work” for her, as in online and phone surveys, offering to pay me well for any and all time I spent talking on the phone with her.


Boom. There you go. A girl needs money and is offered money from talking on the phone, doesn’t know any better: Takes the job. This is not the first time you’ve heard this if you’ve read my blog.

Antonia (who by the way, has also referred to “herself” as “Diana” to other women, who have since reached out to me via Reddit and Facebook) and Gregory proceeded to go into more detail about their film, which was about flesh-eating vampires. Then they said they used to make porn films and started directing me to all these online links of “them” and Gregory’s days of glory as a pornstar named “Johnny LongBalls” or something horrendous like that. There were links, though I was smelling bullshit. Their “vampire movie” also had links, to a couple meetings with people dressed up as vampires and knights, and one or two super cheesy D-list type of videos of people sword fighting in front of castles, saying lines really unprofessionally.


The bad acting and cheeseball videos gave everything an air of innocence, in my mind. As if these people were just like teenagers in adult bodies, looking for a way to entertain themselves. Like several notches above prank-calling, so to speak.

So this kind of threw me off a bit. I was asking myself “what?” Constantly.

The movie at the time was called “Eye of Noor,” and since then they have changed it to two sequels. None of these movies have ever actually been finished. Recently, they went onto IMDB and made themselves a little page. But try clicking on the movies and you won’t see them. They are great at being internet trolls.

The “Eye of Noor ‘series'” is basically 3 movies that have never been made. They have never been completed. “Eye of Noor” had been a work in progress for several years before they asked me to be in their film. I believe it was all started in 2006. There is no movie. It’s just a front for whatever they do that involves spending weeks focusing on one woman at a time to try to coerce them into meeting them in private.

Here is one response to my Reddit post from someone who called herself hunteralamo. There were a couple throwaway names used by the women who claimed to have had similar run-ins. I posted, deleted my initial account, then went back a year or so later and saw responses in my archived post. I also had private messages from some of these other women. All this lead me to reposting on Reddit. Below: hunteralamo’s words:


Here are two more Reddit posters’ responses  (in partーlast I checked, they were still available in the comments of the archived posts):

A summary with links on Reddit:

These men spend a ridiculous amount of time trying to cover up their actions online. You can find blog after blog of them doing this. They have a tendency to call the women who have called them out “cyber bullies,” in a perverse attempt at reverse psychology. They are sick individuals who are preying on women, minors, and foreignors alike, and are sociopathic enough to maintain some sort of image of societal normalcy.



No, no one is bullying these people. These people are serially stalking and harassing women (and men) and then continuing to do so when these women (and men) resort to calling them out publicly because they care about other people’s safety. THEN these men go online and call all the women who have called them out “cyberbullies” and say we are making all this up. That is literally impossible. No one is making this up. These men are doing these things.


The above screenshot is from Facebook. It’s from the Army WTF Moments Facebook page.

The picture that this poster used came from the following article: https://rockymountainantifa.blogspot.com/2013/07/white-nationalist-meet-in-evergreen-co.html?m=1

I recommend giving that article a read. It is about Gregory Coots’ white supremacy meetup in his local area.

Last year, Gregory/LARTU/Myelin got called out by several people on Facebook for harassing young actresses. Anyone who has ever called these people out ends up having libel written about them on the internet, usually along the lines of “so and so wanted to have sex with [fat, bald] Gregory and we said ‘no,’ etc…”

These people offered me something like $30,000 to do a porn, and then started making other offers that I won’t go into detail about. But needless to say, they wanted me to go meet them in private for an “audition.” I was increasingly shocked and abhorred at the kinds of things they spoke about and was wondering how to stop talking to them. When I didn’t answer their calls, they started posting really bizarre shit on Facebook. It was creepy.

I finally returned their calls and said I would do the porn (not intending to). They dictated a contract to me over the phone to email them back. According to other women I have spoken with via Reddit, they made others also write them their dictated contract. They asked repeatedly if it was a set-up and if they were being recorded.

I also want to say here, I have never been in a porn to this day and I am not interested. But I have nothing against sex workers  ーunless they are posing as massage therapists!! That shit infuriates me, because it usually involves women who have been trafficked in to the United States and are being forced to prostitute themselves! It also infuriates me because massage therapists who take pride in their work have to uphold high ethical standards and frankly, it’s beyond annoying when people make crude comments about massage therapists and sex. Anyone who has ever tried that shit on me, has been told to leave immediately, and/or had the police called on them.

Back to what happened:

These people are good at manipulation. I’ve since talked to other women who have gone through the same thing with these men, and these other women are seemingly intelligent. One worked for NASA. The consensus has been that these people spoke about such bizarre topics that it was confusing and difficult to just stop talking to them, for multiple reasons.

A few days before my supposed “audition,” for this creepy porn they wanted to do (a “real” version of “Eye of Noor,” they said), they asked me to do a “paid” Playgirl podcast. They had me choose a stage name. They wanted me to speak to a boy on the phone with them.

Up until this point, they always claimed to be in different states. But all of a sudden, Antonia was with Gregory. And, they had an Indian boy named Pabu with them. Judging by his voice, I would guess he was between the ages of 12 and 14.

Pabu was sobbing. He was calling me “ma’am.”

Gregory and Antonia, who had told me on numerous occasions that they brought Indians to the United States to use/sell them as sex slaves in their sex industry circles, declared that they were going to castrate young Pabu. They were obsessed with gross acts of mutilation.

They told me I had to talk to Pabu on the podcast, which was for entertainment, they said. They said I had to “command” them to hurt Pabu.

I pretty much vomited on my end of the phone. I remember I was sitting outside in my Jeep, shaking. I couldn’t say anything. Then they took me “off the air” to yell at me. I asked if it was real, they said “yes.” I asked if it was legal, they said “yes.” I asked about the realness and legality multiple times. How any person could hurt a minor in this way in the United States, and they were in the Pueblo/ Colorado Springs area, was definitely not legal. I couldn’t say anything but “I’m sorry Pabu.” I got taken off the air twice more, and was threatened. Pabu was sobbing. Eventually I did what they ordered me to do, which was say, “I’m so sorry Pabu, they have to do it.” Then the two men started laughing psychotically and I heard a “snip” and Pabu screamed, then another “snip” and lots of screaming. I got incredibly ill and hung up.

The next day, I went to the Boulder police. The Boulder police said I needed to talk with the Colorado Springs police. The Colorado Springs police said I needed to talk to the Pueblo police. And so on. Finally, I did get to the proper authorities.

But, these people aren’t behind bars.

No, rather, they are just doing their thing out in Colorado. Gregory actually works for the American Red Cross and teaches CPR to children (see photo)!

Gregory is also a “Reverend” and a bunch of other things that would seem contradictory to this vampire-porn-producer persona.


There isn’t another Gregory A.N Coots in Colorado Springs, everyone. Just this guy.

Also, there was this PSA on Facebook from Fort Carson, which is strange because Gregory supppsedly works (or worked? perhaps should no longer be working?) for Fort Carson, and his dad, Venon Coots, also worked for Fort Carsonーfor decadesーaccording to an obituary.



And Myelin Productions has producers in countries around the world, supposedly. So what’s up with the international production company that needs producers in multiple countries to NOT produce anything final? What exactly are they producing? This is a rhetorical question because they say they produce SNUFF.

Most of the people claiming to work for Myelin Productions  (which is a biological term, so if you Google it most of the results are about the myelin production of cells) are also members of an organization called The Citadel of Holy Orders. The C.H.O. is an anti-Islam militant hate group. Below are screenshots of people who say they are members of the C.H.O., many are also affiliated with Eye of Noor. I am not saying these people are all human traffickers. I am saying that the Eye of Noor movie, and its producers who claim to traffic humans, is affiliated with a militant organization that has many members, and some of those members openly hate people solely based on their religion.

You do the math.

I could go on, but I’m done. I’ve written about this several times. I’m disgusted that these people haven’t been arrested. Even if they didn’t actually hurt Pabu, and Pabu was a miraculously amazing actor who surpasses the acting ability of any and all the adult actors shown on their extremely short roll playing blips, that’s still disturbing. The fact that anyone would say that they torture and sexually mutilate children, real or not, and then turn around and be allowed to teach children CPR skills, is frightening (and yes, this is the same man, with the same phone numberーthe ONLY Gregory Coots in Colorado Springs). The fact that these men have done this serially, to multiple women, is frightening. The fact that they have nothing better to do than cyber stalk people and vanity search themselves online, for weeks at a time, is nuts. The fact that they claim to be government employees is nuts.

Last time I searched for some of the key terms that result in these articles and blog posts showing up, so I could take screenshots, I also unearthed some new material regarding ME. To start, one result was some Pinterest link saying that they used Honora Freshwater Pearls on the set of Eye of Noor. To be clear, “Pearl” was the stage name they had me choose back when they were trying to get me to be in their porn. And no, they didn’t use Honora Freshwater Pearls on their [almost nonexistent] set.


Then I found some role playing group via Fandom, that apparently had some episode seemingly based off of my story. I tried contacting the group, asking where they got the idea of their story from. I was wondering if they knew Lartu personally or had just come by my Reddit posts or something. They did not respond.


I’m not going to try and explain either of those findings, but they’re both ponderous.


I recently watched a documentary by Truthstream Media. They pointed out that people usually get upset when their beliefs about reality are questioned. They pointed out that believing in anything and everything that the government or school systems tell you, without question, is exactly the same thing as blind religious faith.

I love our world and our country for a lot of reasons. But there is some super dark shit going on. And when you hear an ex-FBI or CIA agent come out insisting that there is a human trafficking problem in the United States, listen to them. Don’t just shut your eyes and ears and turn away. I apologize for posting anything here from a questionable news source, but the following screenshots are of real whistleblowers and you may have a difficult time finding much news about pedophile rings on mainstream media these days.

As I mentioned before, it is a moral obligation to use my platform to discuss this organization. “Illuminati”/ not illuminati, I don’t care what they call themselves. It takes a psychopath to even joke about trafficking humans into our country and the sexual mutilation of minors. It’s NOT OKAY. IT’S NOT ACCEPTABLE. It needs to be brought out into the light and people need to know. Their scare tactics are only as powerful as people allow them to keep them silent.


I am relaying this to you not for “likes,” because I tend to actually lose followers whenever I blow a whistle. I am telling this to you because it’s my job to.

Human trafficking is a $150,000,000,000 ($150 BILLION DOLLAR)/ year industry. As a nationally certified massage therapist, it is my sworn duty to report human trafficking whenever I am aware of it.

It wears on my heart every day. It goes beyond a desire to maintain an online persona of any kind for other people to judge me off of. I care not what people think of my image or what they think my image of myself is. I care about truth and rights, and safety and liberty.

Now that the #metoo movement has emerged, I feel that perhaps this story will be taken a little more seriously. Ask yourselves, why or how are these men out there doing this, and why have they not gotten in trouble? I’ve reported them numerous times and yet I keep hearing “me too.” So why has the government not stopped their [supposedly] own employees from doing this, whether it’s real or fake? Or are these people no longer actually affiliated with the government and just saying they are? Is it even legal to pose as a government employee?

There are gullible people, and bad people in this world. Let’s not unwittingly be either of those types of people by ignoring this problem in our very own country and world today.


How Naked and Afraid is Like a Nazi Experiment and Why I Faked the Blackout in Brazil

April 20, 2018ーit’s been two years since I published “How Naked and Afraid is Like a Nazi Experiment and Why I Faked the Blackout in Brazil.” If you are reading this, please take the time to read my recent post about my experience with people who claimed to participate in human trafficking. (Link below).




**Continue scrolling down for the article: “How Naked and Afraid is Like a Nazi Experiment and Why I Faked the Blackout in Brazil.”

The polygraph test results are posted in my most recent blog post. You can also find them here: https://www.instagram.com/p/BeD_XrYB159/


mark twain tenaya machete

Update: We successfully raised funds for a polygraph (lie detector) test that I am voluntarily taking regarding my various claims and what is recorded in this article. 10% of those funds raised were donated to Best Friends Animal Society to help animals in need from hurricanes Harvey and Irma. I will be taking this test and posting the results after the holidays. Thank you to everyone who helped raise funds and contributed questions!

May 24, 2017 editorial comment: I’ve added visuals (photos, articles, screenshots, etc) to accompany my writing. I don’t know why I didn’t just do that originally.  However,  some of the screenshots are of correspondence between the producer and me after he read this article. Hope the visuals help you as a reader better understand what actually happened and why you shouldn’t believe what you see on TV. It’s programming. (Think professional wrestling or literally any other reality show on TV). Peace

I want to be as clear as possible: I try to live my life as honestly and kindly as possible. Anyone who knows me really well knows this. As I have said before, I am honest to a fault. I am not perfect. No human is. Faking the blackout in the Naked and Afraid episode in Brazil in a lot of ways went against all my morals, yet at the time it was really my only choice out of a situation which was far more detrimental to my being than anyone could ever possibly gather from watching the television show. However, on hindsight I still truly believe I did the right thing. I am writing this so that I can clarify how fake the show is, as well as reiterate how detrimental media can be to the lives of people who are exploited and are left with no opportunity to defend themselves. It is my hope that in writing this for you all to see, that I can let it go and move on with my life. My happiest days are those that have nothing to do with social media, let alone talking or thinking about Naked and Afraid. I live my life as a healer, a massage therapist, and a gentle companion to my dog and friends. To be seen as a pariah in the eyes of strangers and some acquaintances alike, because they saw a fictional account of a real situation and think they now know me, is beyond frustrating. So here you go…

I was contacted by a casting director for Naked and Afraid. I had never heard of the show prior to that. I don’t watch reality television, nor do I own a television. At the time, I was homeless and living in a truck with my service dog.

Vehicle homelessness: summertime
Yes, I have a legit service animal for legit reasons. She was on the original XL Reunion episode, if you look carefully. She lead our group into the studio on demand!
She is amazing. This is her in Yosemite on a 40-mile barefoot hike we did together.
Sweet and intelligent, like I raised her to be
I mostly grew up in Vermont and am a barefoot kind of person
Mile 35: Feet unscathed
My dog with her kitten friend
They were besties

Okay…I know, enough cute animal photos…back to what happened….

I was visiting my mother whom I had not seen in 6 years. It was about 20 degrees and freezing fog in Colorado. A job seemed nice. I was doing full-time school online,  working on my Theatre degree.

LINK: Video, Yoga in sub freezing Colorado while visiting my mother.

LINK: Video, Fire dancing in sub freezing Colorado while visiting my mother.

By the way, I actually received a scholarship for Theatre and Opera 14 years ago, to the University of Vermont. I never ended up going because I didn’t know how to come up with the $10,000 of estimated living expenses as a 17 year old who received no parental support, so I moved to Japan instead. I then travelled west to become an herbalist, wildcrafter (someone who turns plants into usable products), and licensed massage therapist, as well as to pursue my many outdoor interests. I would not return to finish my college Theatre degree for another decade, at age 27.

 *So, unlike the other participants of this show who call themselves actors because of this one contract, I actually have been a trained actor and model since I was a child. I modelled for an agency known as Rascal’s in New York City starting at age 7, and was in at least one play or musical per year through graduating high school. I then became a professional nude rock climbing model for a publication known as Stone Nudes by age 20, and have participated in music videos, TV (Always Sunny in Philadelphia) and live theatre (Shakespeare and contemporary) as an adult. I participated in youth theatre companies and graduated from a prep school with a double concentration in the performing arts and liberal arts. My latest role was this year as Louise in The Singing Telegram, one of 9 vignettes from Cariani’s dark comedy, Love Sick. Theatre, music, and dance have been ingrained into my life. (Playing dead or close to it in Brazil was as difficult as getting my father to carry me to bed as a kid, except while being groped, given stomach thrusts (not shown on the episode), and injected with an IV).

Cover of the 2007 Stone Nudes calendar. Taken in Tonsai, Thailand.
Stone Nudes, Thailand
Stone Nudes, Eldorado Canyon, Colorado
On the set of Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Within 10 days of being initially contacted by the casting director, I was flown down to Burbank. I was kept in a hotel to do a series of interviews and psychological testing, and told I was not allowed to leave my hotel room unless accompanied by whomever was guiding me around on their schedule. I spent less than 24 hours at the Marriott. I completed a 567 MMPI (Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory) multiple choice test which was then analyzed by a psychologist and a machine, met with the psychologist, met with executive producers, and met with a doctor in a hole-in-the-wall clinic in Burbank. The doctor’s clinic was off-site, and I was informed that I was the only participant who was brought off-site. The clinic had a main entrance, but I was brought through a back door and then was examined by a doctor in a tiny office that was covered in thank-you photos signed by a slew of the most famous celebrities in the world.

I was also told that no other participant had ever made it down to Burbank so quickly, that usually it took months, about 6. Not ten days.

I know some of you are wondering why I would be asked to participate in this show. Well, I am guessing because I have been studying plant medicine for over a decade, and because I am an extreme athlete. I am a long distance swimmer, backcountry snowboarder, and rock climber.

Standing at the top of a chute I snowboarded in Yosemite, 2008. This was a first descent with 4 more friends. One of them is Jason Torlano, a pretty well known athlete. Contact him and ask him about the chute if you wish.
Me, playing in the snow, 2016. Alpine, CA. Photo by: Geartooth Photo
Me, jugging up Leaning Tower, Yosemite, while accompanying the late Dean Potter. Dean Potter was a climbing, BASE jumping, slack lining legend of sorts. He was introduced to me by my photographer friend Dean Fidelman. They were besties. This is one of about 80 photos taken of me by Potter. I lived and climbed with him for a few months in Yosemite in 2010.
Leaning Tower 2010, photo by: Dean Potter
Leaning Tower 2010, photo by: Dean Potter
Leaning Tower 2010, photo by: Dean Potter
Sitting outside Dean Potter’s old cabin in Foresta, Yosemite National Park, while he was getting his BASE rig ready for the next morning. He created the world’s lightest squirrel suit/BASE rig fyi. Photo by: Dean Potter

I also signed pages upon pages of contractual agreements, agreeing that the show had permission for “eternity” to use the footage from the show, in any way they wished, that I could not sue them, that I could die, and that they could defame me in any way they wished by portraying me in a false light. I never thought that this would later bite me in the ass.

I was hired. But then something happened: I was informed that my white blood cell count was extremely high. So I detoxed. I ate all-organically, stopped smoking weed and tobacco (I was an occassional fan of the occassional spliff), stopped drinking any alcohol, exercised and did yoga, started swimming 2 1/2 miles a few times a week. And my wbc lowered, gradually. I drove myself to blood clinics at least four times to send the show an update of my wbc. At its lowest, it was still 10,000, which is usually the high point for most people. My guess was that I either had something seriously wrong with me, or it was the fact that I have two autoimmune diseases, which cause high wbc’s. I contracted Lyme disease at age 3, in 1988 while living in Bedford Hills, New York, and it was misdiagnosed for nearly a year. I used to wake up paralyzed and have spent nearly my entire life dealing with it, though memories prior to having it are few to none; to me I am just “me,” not someone who suffers from Lyme. This, as well as the onset of psoriasis at age 4, is why I got into holistic healing at a young age.

(If you were referred here from Reddit, please lookup the Merriam-Webster definition of “detox.” It does NOT mean to lose weight. It means to rid the body of toxic substances.)

So this period of time delayed my flight to who-knows-where. Initially, they wanted to send me to Brazil. But the delay resulted in another woman getting sent there. She and my partner met and she turned around without filming. So this again delayed the show. Simultaneously, the World Cup was going on and so visas and plane tickets were slow to obtain. By the time I was cleared to go by the doctor, the initial shoot time for the episode had been delayed by weeks, if not over a month. I was sent a bottle of Malarone, an anti-malaria medication, by the doctor’s clinic in Burbank and told to start taking them two days before flying to Brazil.

On the flight to Brazil, or in the hotel, I got head lice. I arrived there and felt the beginnings of an itchy scalp within one night, about two days before starting the show. I immediately told a medic, who upon examining me said I had literally just gotten head lice, probably on the airplane. I was given lice shampoo and used it twice before we began the show. To be as safe as possible, I shaved all my body hair from the neck down. I prayed that this wouldn’t cause an early tap-out.

Jim Morton, producer for my episode in Brazil, likes to constantly remind me of how effective my body products are. I have been a certified medicinal herbalist, wildcrafter, and aromatherapist of medical-grade plant derivations for 11 years. This of course was given no mention or “credit” in any part of the episode, thanks to the editors sitting in their LA offices.

I’d like to point out that Jim has been a reality show producer for 20+ years. He produced the Anna Nicole Smith show. He makes a living off of exploiting people so he can live in a mansion with tennis courts and pools with his second wife who he fondly refers to as “The Upgrade.” His whole “credit where credit is due” line is the biggest lie in reality show history.

My partner and I each brought four survival items with us to Brazil, which is standard for the show (reminder: the early seasons such as this one only allowed one item per person, not one and a half). He brought four knives, and I brought a water filter and three knives. Production decided against the filter and asked each of us if we’d be willing to bring a fire starter. I agreed and said that my father had recommended a magnifying glass right before he passed away. The producers loved this concept, as well as the potential story line that they could then follow. So they sent a production assistant to town to find a magnifying glass. The PA returned with one, as well as a flint on a key chain, and I was told to pick one. Obviously, the glass, as the key chain flint was a joke.

Yes, magnifying water with glass uses the sun to kill microbes. To be more exact, it scrambles the DNA of bacteria and viruses. Protozoa can not be treated this way.

They had us start in the afternoon, informing us that we were to spend the night on the way to the permanent location somewhere in the dunes. This was supposed to be more entertaining for the viewers. We were also told that we would have to redo a lot of Day One’s shots, as Day One and Day 21 were very “Hollywood,” complete with retakes to get perfect shots and cameramen and helicopters flying around. So we did our thing and spent the first night in the dunes with no shelter and no time to set one up. My partner and I couldn’t really sleep that well so we spent most of the night talking and at one point were huddled back-to-back practically sobbing because the wind and the fine quartz sand in our eyes hurt so bad. Then it would rain off and on because the coast was only miles from us, and coastal storms would bring torrential rain to the dunes on a daily or every-other-day basis, which is where the lagoons came from.

On Day 2, we were exhausted. We’d just been exposed to the elements purposefully to give everything more of an edge. We were hungry. And I was taking Malarone, which causes quite a few serious side-effects, so extreme that many people opt out of taking it and risk the chance instead of getting Malaria. Malarone causes intense, lucid nightmares, nausea, weight-loss, dizziness, moodiness, dehydration, emotional swings, and hyper-photo sensitivity (sensitivity to the sun). My partner, however, was never told he should take Malarone. Instead, he had managed to finagle a twice-daily administered Adderall prescription.

LINK: Side effects of Malarone

Malarone from the show’s doctor, Dr. Mesrobian

Leftover Malarone from Brazil episode
Leftover Malarone from Colombia episode

So on Day 2, we were told that we needed to camp in a certain part of the oasis, if you want to call it that (please don’t for a second think that an oasis equates to heavenly and fulfilling). My partner and I spent several hours building our shelter together. The film crew set up a tripod and later edited the footage to make it look like he built the shelter by himself, which is not true. We spent hours collecting materials and making cordage together, then tying the cross beams together. For days following that, we were always working on perfecting our shelter together. The floor was very slanted, and I spent about an hour using my legs to flatten it out, while he rested, prior to even building the walls. But the episode’s narrator says he built it while I fell asleep in the sun, which was not true. We each took about an hour off from building the shelter. The show never showed me working on it by myself. Later, the show added a clock at the bottom of the screen to make it look more factual, like he had built it by himself in a certain amount of time, though the footage is actually cut and spliced to make a time lapse. So the clock is just an ingenious way of making it look more realistic, because a person will watch the scene and see the seconds moving, even though my partner is jumping around. They are VERY GOOD at manipulating footage.

On a daily basis, the contestants are asked to step aside to conduct On The Fly interviews (OTF’s). In our case, we would need to trudge up and over a sand dune every time this happened so we could get away from earshot of our partner. Every time I was interviewed, I was asked questions about my father who had passed away a few months earlier. I was asked pointed and personal questions. I was also told to repeat my words every time I referred to the magnifying glass as “the magnifying glass,” and told to repeat and call it “my dad’s magnifying glass.” This was something I agreed to at first, because I have studied theatre my entire life. So to me, I was appeasing the producers by showing them what a good actor I was, which they were asking me to do. But over time, this was a very emotionally unnerving act that actually affected me very deeply, as my father’s death was so recent and I was still deeply mourning.

Side note: Though we were a couple hours drive from town, the town was only miles away over the dunes. Every night, a part of town had a block party and would bump really loud beats which carried over the dunes. You might think this would be cool, which it was at first. But then we realized that the DJ would play the same beat for hours on end, so we would hear this techno or reggae beat off in the distance for hours at a time. The music never stopped before 4 am. So between the music and my partner’s Adderall-induced chattiness, I literally could never find a place with quiet unless I wandered off by myself. This is kind of an odd thing to occur whilst out surviving “in the middle of nowhere.”

On a daily basis, the producer asked my partner and I to talk about growing tensions that he could observe. He said it was obvious. The producer knew very well that I was pissed that my partner was taking amphetamines and sitting on his butt all day. He would sit there and talk a lot. He would get quiet only hours after each time he was given a pill. Meanwhile, I was administered Malarone every morning, along with a 5-calorie piece of Magic Toast (some Brazilian cracker made with lots of air). I also got a bladder infection on Day 2, and was given a week of Ciprofloxacin to take care of it. That sometimes came with a sip of water.

Now, before I go on, I want to discuss the meds. One of the producers kept telling me that I didn’t need the Malarone, and that no one else there was taking it. She told me that I should stop taking it and that if I did, I also needed to say into the camera “I am choosing, by my own choice, to stop taking Malarone because….” However, I was not comfortable with this. I wondered why I was told to take it and my partner was not. I did not know how it would affect me if I stopped taking it, if it would make me more prone to Malaria because of the sudden cessation. The water was also rife with cysts, which are not killed by UV water treatment (only bacteria and viruses are). Knowing that Malaria is caused by a protozoa, which is what cysts are, I took my chances that perhaps the Malarone would help protect me against them. There was so much animal feces in the lagoons (mostly rodent and pig poop from nearby farmers) that every single cup of water had at least one cyst floating in it. And that stuff can get in your brain, which is serious. So I decided not to stop taking it, and see what happened. I will never know if any of that was deliberate on production’s part, but I do see an obvious gross oversight that my partner was never told to take Malarone while I was, and that the Malarone itself came from the show’s special hole-in-the-wall doctor in Burbank. I actually said I would stop taking it if I did not have to say into the camera that it was entirely my own choice, but they said no.

So, after a week of being asked to talk about why my partner was bothering me, but not in a way that actually had to do with why I was mad because production was tired of hearing me complain about his amphetamines, I caved. I guess my partner was also getting the same kinds of questions in his OTF’s, which we discovered later (so yes, the production team is trying to get us to react to each other). On Day 8, after the producer had said several times that I should confront my partner, I did. This resulted in a long conversation, which led to an argument where we were both saying horrible things to each other. Keep in mind that we had been eating very few calories on a daily basis, probably less than 200 a day, and the human brain needs about 400 calories a day in order to not cannibalize itself (I had no fat reserves left, and yes this is what happens when ketosis is prolonged,  your body eats its own muscle and organ tissue). We had headaches, and we weren’t getting electrolytes either because the berry bushes were all unripe as a result of the whole episode being delayed for so long. The coconuts were all harvested by the locals, who had rights to the land and would often be nearby playing soccer or hanging out in the lagoon. There was nothing. The locust that my partner gave me was after I had gone hunting for locusts for days, and it fell on a cameraman who gave the locust to my partner and told him to give it to me. This same cameraman was also constantly feeding us ideas to make things more interesting.

So the argument that gets shown isn’t an argument at all, it’s just a tiny spliced part of an entire conversation that led to a two-way argument, and it’s just the part where I am retaliating to my partner and calling him names. He had just called me a bunch of names. But what is shown makes me look like I just verbally accosted him for no reason. Then the show cuts to a commercial and returns and shows the same scene all over again, just to remind everyone how evil I am by calling my partner fat and stinky.

After this argument occurred, the producer was ecstatic. He told me on a daily basis that he loved it, that Discovery would love it, and it would definitely make the cut. Basically, he had convinced me to get into an argument and then reminded me daily that it was going to be used.

I remember feeling so fucking used after that argument happened. I was so hungry, too. I went to the lagoon, where I went on a daily basis to forage. I had had a dream about finding a bird’s nest with three eggs. So I go, and I hear these birds chirping and I see a nest in a tree coming out of the lagoon. I climbed the tree and there was a nest with three baby blackbirds in it. One crawled out and the other two stayed. I was so ravenous, delirious, angry, like a wild animal. I used a small stick and my fingers to snap the necks of the two remaining birds, all while their mom was behind me, flapping her wings in mid-air and squawking at me. It was the most horrifying thing I have ever done. I wanted to die. I hated killing these things without a knife, but I knew I needed the calories because my brain was getting cannibalized. They wouldn’t completely die. It was so heartbreaking. I brought them back to camp, trying to drown them in the lagoon while I was walking, feeling so guilty that their death was not quick. I brought them back, finally dead, and the cameramen stopped filming my partner trying to make a charcoal tattoo and came over to me as I cleaned these things with my bare hands and a twig. They looked like two little mini chickens, so perfect. I skewered them on a stick and used the glass to cook them. But here was the problem: the sun went down there at 6 pm, as it was right on the equator. When I got these birds, it was well past 4 pm. So in the time I had with the sun, they only cured about half-way. They obtained this nice reddish-brown color on the outside but the inside was still raw. I tried desperately to start a fire with the magnifying glass, but the wind had picked up and the sun was setting. A fire meant digging a hole in the sand to block the wind and the sand was wet from a recent rain. I tore apart my palm leaf shirt for kindling and it kept almost happening. So many sparks, it was so close. The cameras were right there, too, in my face, and the cameramen witnessing this almost happening. But I failed. So I wrapped the birds in several layers of palm leaf and buried them in the wet sand, about three feet down, in an attempt to save them through fermentation, as more rain was coming. The next day, they smelled rotten. They ended up being the bait in a fish trap I wove, which was also never shown.

LINK: How starvation affects the human brain (I am adding this link in response to the armchair experts on Reddit and elsewhere who have claimed that the brain does not cannibalize its own tissue. It does.) 

And another link…

After that, I started going to the lagoon every day to look for food. Like I mentioned earlier, I am a long distance swimmer, so movement through water for me is very effortless, much less calorie-dependent than walking on fine sand dunes in the sun. I would search for berries. I found a total of 5 coconuts in the lagoon during my time in Brazil. The first two were found on the same day, after basically being told where they were by the producer. I had to wonder how he knew, but it became obvious to me later as I repeatedly saw members of the crew with wet shorts. The first two coconuts were shared with my partner. If you don’t believe me, check out my Facebook, as there is a photo there of us sitting on the mats I wove eating coconuts together. That photo was only a day or two after our big “divorce,” as they named it.

Sharing coconuts that I found with my partner. This was when we “weren’t talking.” Never shown on the episode.
Eating a coconut while Matt went on a long, multiple-hour walk without telling anyone. The footage takes audio from a different day and makes it seem like he was right there when I ate this.

I also found moriche (in Brazil they are called buriti) floating in the water on two occasions. Most of those were shared with my partner until I had finally decided he was on his own, which was another concept purposefully brought up by production and the cameraman who liked to give us ideas. The orange stain on my mouth during the “tap-out” scene is from buriti fruit. It’s super high in beta carotene.

I also started collecting one of the types of unripe berries and putting them in a basket I made, in the shade, and discovered that they ripened to the point of fermentation that way.

I performed a 24-hour toxicity test on the cacti which was growing around us. This involved not eating anything else and meticulously waiting through each step of the test, before we concluded that it was edible. Again, this would have been prime material for educational purposes and it was all documented on camera— but if it isn’t clear yet, they deliberately omitted every bit of actual survival-related footage in exchange for creating a fake storyline based around drama. Instead, they just show a quick shot of Matt cutting a cactus down and eating it as if it were his own private food source. No mention of me making sure it wasn’t poisonous for him.

I made charcoal and started putting it in between my teeth (there were no hollow reeds sturdy enough to make a straw) while sipping water from the lagoon that had not been treated with UV. This way, I could avoid the sun to purify my water (and on that note, I actually was carrying a palm to use as a shade device in the early days when I was using the magnifying glass to treat the water).

When my partner and I split up our shelter, I opted to dig myself a grave-shaped hole, which is funny in a way because I did actually feel like a dying animal. The hole was about 7 feet long and a couple feet deep, and I covered it with a palm frond roof so that I could lay in it and stay dry and safe from the wind. It actually worked really well, too bad they never showed that either.

The producer told me several times that I had done more than any other female had ever done on the show. So later, after about two weeks when I started to say several times that I wanted to tap-out, he also informed me that if I consciously tapped-out the story would be completely altered and would be, and I quote: “that toad’s story.” He warned me about this. Keep this in mind.

The main reason I wanted to tap out was because I started to lose control of my bladder. My metabolism was way too high to start out (my partner had it right with gaining a bunch of fat beforehand). I was too fit. This is actually why I appear very chubby later in XL, because I purposefully gained over 30 lbs of pure fat and slowed my metabolism way down before going to Colombia.

So, I was peeing myself. I would drink nearly a gallon of water a day at times, but it just trickled out. I would sit there in the sand next to the camera crew and my partner sometimes, listening to him chit chat with them, and drink water and pee straight into the sand. I was really a mess. I wanted to tap out. Seriously, I needed to tap out. And yet I felt so used, so manipulated. To the very core. Everything. Made. Me. So. Pissed.

And then the producer told me that he would let me redeem myself by making a televised apology to my partner for calling him fat and stupid and smelly earlier. But he wanted me to wait until the next day, when the lighting was good. When the crew left, I had a personal talk with my partner, told him how I felt, that I was sorry, and that we were going to have a stupid redo of the apology the next day for the camera crew, which was ridiculous. I wanted him to know that I was really sorry, especially for the fact that we had to do a televised apology the next day, and was just trying to be real with him. So we forgave each other the day before what was televised.

We filmed our apology on Day 16 (the show says 15) and then I went searching for coconuts to no avail. I returned, and then the crew left for their late lunch break. While they were gone, I realized I needed to get the fuck out of there. I was terrified about the next few days, mostly because my body was shutting down. My muscles were so cramped that it would sometimes take me an hour to move from laying position to sitting or standing, and then I would get dizzy. The only real place where my muscles did not hurt was the lagoon, where I could suspend myself in water. So while they were gone, I walked to a spot in the dunes to lay down, I actually let myself fall down, and just stayed there for about a half an hour. Nobody came, so I walked a little closer to camp and did the same thing. My partner called me, came over to me, and called the medic on the radio.

I pretended to be basically catatonic. I let my body go limp, because honestly it was pretty close to that point anyways. They had been checking my blood sugar at least once a day, and it was wavering around 40-60, which is incredibly low for a person. I was pretty close to going into a coma for real. So being limp and playing dead actually felt amazing, in that I was going to get to leave there and I didn’t have to take one more fucking step in that fine, fine sand. I had taken enough extra steps for these people, both literally and figuratively.

I remember feeling one of the female PA’s divine breasts on my head as she held me and they administered an IV in my arm in the dunes. The medic was pushing on my chest and I let myself cave in and let them just keep doing whatever they needed to do, including allowing all the air to come out of my mouth when they did this. I just let my body do what it did being completely limp. Then they got a stretcher out after making the final decision to get me out (which took quite a bit of questioning and requestioning between the producer and the medic). I remember the boom technician was walking on my left side as I was laying on the stretcher, freaking out about the IV that kept coming out of my arm as the poor camera crew carried me out of the dunes, which was quite a hike from where we were camped to where the jeep could get to.

Then the entire ride to the hospital, over the dunes and through the jungle, over the ferry and through the village, they were totally focused on getting the right shots. I remember trying not to laugh when the producer asked if the camera was rolling before going on about what was happening, then he said something like “I think I just lost a piece of my soul.” I remember hearing what a great job the camera guy was doing as he was hanging out the open-sided jeep and filming the epic tap-out. Someone kept pinching one of my nipples.

By “fleshy part” on the “side,” Jim is referring to my areola. No, that part of the female nipple does NOT hurt like a motherfucker. And while he may have access to the 10,000+ minutes of footage, I have none. This was NOT something that was shown on the episode. It is also NOT a paramedic technique, to pinch an unconscious woman’s areola. And no, what is wrong is creating a situation and argument from two people who are otherwise getting along, then using that argument against them.

The producer was joking about pizza and beer. I just did my best to let my eyes roll back and keep a straight face. And the poor medic, who could never say my name right, I felt the worst for him. Because, he was really a good guy, so sweet, and I truly felt bad hearing the fear in his voice that I was almost dead.

When we arrived at the hospital, they moved me inside and then the local doctors stuck another IV in me. Only this time, they missed my vein (I was really dehydrated). My arm started to swell up like Akira. This had happened to me once before, when I was an 18 year old living in Japan and had thumb surgery without anesthesia. It’s excruciatingly painful. That was when I opened my eyes and let myself just fucking scream. It was really a scream that I had wanted to let out for weeks, 16 days to be exact.

They kept me in the hospital overnight, wearing a diaper that I kept peeing in and in a room with other patients and a nurse who was blowing snot rockets on the ground and picking her wedgie and then touching our IV’s again without washing her hands. The show says I walked out of the hospital within hours, with a smile on my face (which was from the producer saying a joke to me at that moment, the following day, to get me to laugh for the camera). If you can keep in mind that the sun goes down at 6 pm, the footage is obviously flawed, as I would not have walked out of the hospital a couple hours later in broad daylight. No, I was picked up by the producer the following day, after a full night of glucose and saline IV’s and two pints of beef stew, which I actually inhaled in the hospital bed.

When I was weighed the next day, I had had a loss of 16 lbs, but the reality is that I probably lost much more than that, as they had not weighed me upon immediately leaving the dunes. 18-20 hours of IV’s and two pints of stew, a bunch of cookies and crackers later, they estimated that I had a loss of 18 lbs, but we will never really know. In 16 days, either way, that is a lot for a small person like me.

So there you have it. I spent the next several days in a hotel, waiting for my partner to get out, eating cookies and doing diary cameras, feeling kind of guilty and incredibly relieved. My partner could barely walk when he made it out, probably because he was soldiering on with no nutrients and a bottle of amphetamines.

Then they had us reunite and filmed me talking about my response to the producers asking me “How does it make you feel knowing that your partner carried your father’s magnifying glass all the way out of the dunes for you?” To which I replied by turning on the water works.

I find it so funny, as someone who does not identify with any particular religion, that such a Christian-rooted sense of guilt versus honor seemed to be so deeply ingrained in the producers’ interview questions, especially considering that they were continuously asking me to use my dad’s name in vain, literally.

Why did I do the XL show?

So, after my episode aired that following September, I was getting all sorts of death threats and I was devastated from how they had portrayed everything. I honestly think that when they know something negligent has happened on their part, they will throw the contestant under the bus in the edit so as to control their ability to speak up and actually be heard on social platforms. This has seemed truer as time has gone on, the more I hear from other female contestants that they were being sexually harassed by their partners, complained to the producers, and nothing was done about it. If the contestant gets a bad edit, then in the case that they try to speak up, people see them as untrustworthy or evil and chose not to listen or believe what they say.

I went off on social media and said what really happened after my first episode. I talked about everything. Discovery retaliated by not allowing me to do the scheduled Facebook live Q&A, as well as threatening me repeatedly with lawyers. Then they showed a Bares All episode that used footage of me in the shower using lice shampoo, talking about lice, and audio that was recorded out in the desert months later. The audio was my response to a producer specifically asking me about why I shaved my pubic hair. The way they portrayed it on Bares All implied that I had pubic lice, or pubic bugs. I was mortified.

I realized that there was absolutely nothing I could do to defend myself, and that Discovery could keep using the footage however they wanted to. If they felt threatened by me, they would surely keep sabotaging me like this with the pubic lice kind of stuff they were doing. Terrified, I wrote Discovery Channel an apology letter for speaking out on social media, saying I hoped there was a way we could all save face, and thanking them for the experience in Brazil (this is making me nauseous writing this).

Within a day or two, I received a request from the production company to partake in the XL episode. I found this to be both bizarre and creepy. I actually had the thought that they wanted me to die. But they were offering me $23,500 if I completed the challenge, which was more money than I had ever had in my life. As someone who lives at poverty level much of the time, this is really a difficult offer to say no to.

So I detoxed, gained weight, ate tons of food, slept a lot. Did some yoga, meditated. Worked. A lot. Saved thousands of dollars for rent while I was gone, as well as a dog-sitter. I also desperately tried to remove the red hair dye I had put in my hair to disguise myself in real life from all the people who were recognizing me. I showed up in Colombia the following February for XL. This time, I came armed with a doctor’s note for salt and electrolytes. I had been  randomly pissing blood (and still do), most notably right before leaving for Colombia, and my doctor said it could have been from the severe dehydration I had experienced in Brazil, what with losing control of my bladder and such.

But the producers came into my hotel room a couple days before we started the show and told me that they could not honor my prescription. They said that we all knew that my partner in Brazil had bypassed the system with his amphetamine prescription, which was why they edited my episode the way they did, they said, and that my prescription would be equally unfair to the other contestants.

They gave me the option to go home, or do the show without my doctor’s prescription. This scared me, for multiple reasons. But I could not go home empty handed, if for any reason other than that I literally would not be able to pay rent if I did not try to make some money on the show. I had already been taken off my work schedule by my employer.

On Day 1 in Colombia, one of my partners informed me that one of the other contestants was allowed to take B-vitamins, specifically as a mosquito-repellent, and as a substitute for Malarone (she has confirmed this with me). Malarone again had been given to me and some–not all– of the other contestants. Then we discovered that our third partner had two bottles of homemade tincture that his brother had made him, labeled, “[His brother’s name]’s Blend.” He told us he also got to take this on his first challenge, and that it had a bunch of mosquito-repelling herbs, nice alcohol, and fish oil so he could get all his aminos. He was allowed to take this at-will, as it was always in our camp’s dry bag, off-camera, where we keep the radio and tampons and Malarone pills.

This infuriated me. I could not get over how pissed I was. Furthermore, on Day 1, right before I was dropped off and while I was still blindfolded, the field producer in the jeep with me told me this: “So I’m really sorry. Discovery decided against your fire starter, they said it was too high-tech and they wanted to give you a bow drill instead. I tried to go to bat for you, but they wouldn’t listen,” he said. It was a ferrocerium and magnesium flint, not that high-tech at all. This was unnerving, not because I now all of a sudden had a bow drill, but because we spend months beforehand talking about what 4 items to bring, and this discussion goes between the producers and contestants and is very specific. So the fact that this was being relayed to me as I was getting dropped off seemed a bit fishy and sabotaging to me. So I had my machete and a bow drill.

I had flank pain that was incredibly intense on Day 4, and said I wanted to tap-out on Day 5. The producer asked me to wait one more day before tapping out. On Day 6, we were awakened by medics who wanted to check me out. They looked at me and left to get me antibiotics, as I was in severe pain and had barely slept as a result. I was also offered a piece of cracker that morning to go with my Malarone, which had been overlooked on the days prior due to my choice to take it at night so as to avoid mood swings during the day. So I took a Malarone, and right about when it kicked in, my partner started to tell me that I was lazy and needed to do more (this part was not shown), which led to the “sabotage scene.” This scene again, involved an editorial muting of Luke’s words to me prior to me getting upset. Again, they edited the episode to make it seem like he just said one line to me and I  reacted irrationally. He was actually sitting there for about 10 minutes, complaining as I was waiting for the medics to return with antibiotics.

So there you have it. When I revolted, it was not just against my partners. And I am not going to get into the details about that right now, it’s just not that important. I really wanted to throw the cameras in the river, too. I threw that shit in the river on Day 6—not Day 10 like they said—and got kicked off the show. I had been given the option to stay and find it, but really I did not want to go diving in the river that was supposedly full of anacondas. It just wasn’t worth it to me. Plus, I was over it. So there you go. Call it want you want. Call it a TV show. Call it a social experiment. The truth is, it’s much, much more than that. Much more.

Edit: I was told to immediately cease taking Malarone by the doctor in Colombia upon exiting the show. Apparently it is contraindicated for people with a history of kidney problems like I have.

I also would like to add, there were info tidbits demonstrated by Luke that I actually taught him and he chided me for until I left, and then he taught them  as his own. One example is of him removing a splinter with a spinous thorn from a tree. I did this and he made fun of me for it. Additionally, they were using resources I was collecting and simultaneously complained that I was not doing anything, for example: all the vines we were using for fish baskets.  I would put some down and leave to collect more, and they would be gone when I returned. On the topic of fish baskets, I had made a plethora of logical recommendations which the guys turned down until someone else suggested them, such as: I recommended we weave a large flat basket, instead of a funnel  (we each made one), to scoop fish. They declined until a cameraman later said that was what the locals did. Etc.

Gaslit: A phenominological poem in three parts

Part 1


I walk through the dark valley of perception

with fingers stretched before me,

feeling for signs of life.

I need all my fingers

and palms open to do this,

to guide myself on this untrodden path,

to pass safely through shadows

of hungry lionesses

and stones thrown by angry giants

larger than reality.

I need open hands to do this.

If we only use two fingers to guide ourselves,

pointing at things we feel but can not see,

we will miss the trail we were seeking

or fall into the lion’s den.

And so, therefore, we can not see

with our pointing fingers.

No, we need open hands.

We will not see past the massive stones that were cast,

and will lose ourselves in their shadows

without open hands.


Part 2

I wanted to tell you what a good person I am,
but there was a cloud inversion instead.
Dense, smoggy attitudes
trapped ice cold opinions,
because of all the hot air
someone else was blowing
out of their giant asshole.

Part 3

I can sense the eyes

like coyotes in a dark forest

when the moon is new,

and batteries in your headlamp stop working,

just as you’ve arrived at the rim of a canyon

at midnight,

barefoot and alone.

I can sense the eyes,

waiting for me to write something.

They want my power

and they want

to accuse me of giving it away.

They want something to yip about,

and it will always be about something

they will try to make my fault.

They want to misinterpret

what I say

and they will,

they always do.

They want me to doubt myself,

and if I don’t,

they will keep up their

Machiavellian dog warfare

for years if they have to,

until I cave,

until I forget who I am.

They want me to look away

so they can snatch up my words,

like a pack of coyotes

preying on a lone wolf.

Recent Ponderings (poem)



Allow space for ambiguity in others
To think what they want
Everyone’s struggle is relative
Everyone’s struggle is real
And it’s not your job to make sure
Everyone understands you
It’s not your job to convince them
Your sense of self image is correct
Or more or less correct
Or that
Their perceptions of you are unworthy or incorrect.

Paragraph break. Beat. Beat.

It’s not even you talking anyways
It’s your ego having a pissing contest with itself.

Results of the Polygraph Test for Naked and Afraid. 2 Tests, 4 Questions Each.



This test was kept transparent and invited questions from the public, other Naked and Afraid cast members who are part of a private Facebook group (over 100 of all the cast members, including previous teammates), and Kickstarter donors.

It allowed for specific questions to be chosen and allowed for people to remain anonymous while choosing a question.

I have kept my detailed account of what happened available and accessible online via this WordPress blog and have repeatedly linked the article when asking the public for questions to answer.

I hope this clarifies what happened both on and off camera for some of you, both in Brazil and Colombia.


*Note: There have been people still trying to tear apart my word and honesty because of the way the results are worded. All polygraph tests either say “was most likely telling the truth,” or “was most likely not telling the truth,” as that is the nature of the science of polygraph tests. You either pass or you don’t pass.


Additional note: I have a message from the producer acknowledging that he was pinching my nipples when he thought I was unconscious. That really should have been enough for everyone to believe what I have been saying. End of story.


You can read the original full account via “How Naked and Afraid is Like a Nazi Experiment and Why I Faked the Blackout in Brazil,” a rhetorically hyperbolic title for my account of the real, and really, unethical system and series of events that led to my return to the show and all the other unfortunate drama.

I answered the following questions:

1. Was the magnifying glass provided by the producers? (Yes)

2. Did I spend at least the same amount of time working on the shelter in Brazil as my partner? (Yes)

3. Did I fake the blackout in Brazil? (Yes)

4. Was I fully conscious during my tap-out in Brazil? (Yes)

5. Were other contestants allowed special supplements and pharmaceuticals in Brazil and Colombia? (Yes)

6. Was I denied a medical prescription for my kidneys by the producers in Colombia? (Yes)

7. Was the producer saying my name as he was pinching my nipples? (No)

8. Was I aware of the producer pinching my nipples during my tap-out on Naked and Afraid? (Yes)

If anyone is curious, you can read the full article about what happened on my WordPress blog: https://wp.me/p6Ezfu-1m


I recommend also looking up Cody Lundin and his recent verdict with Discovery Channel regarding similar wrongdoings.


Thanks for taking the time to read this, and I wish you a good journey.



Naked and Afraid, Climate Change, and The Unfortunate Yet Willful End of Humanity

Sitting on the Ahwahnee Ledge of Leaning Tower, Yosemite, with the late Dean Potter. He was getting ready to do a speed ascent with the late Sean Leary, R.I.P.  Photo by Dean Potter,  R.I.P.          Fly Free.

I hear or read this phrase, or something like it, at least once a week: “It would be great if [insert climate-change-related global catastrophe here*] occurred because then I would have a greater chance at survival; the population problem would be fixed.”

And, this phrase, or something like it, crosses my path about once a month: “I would love it if  [insert climate-change-related global catastrophe here*] occurred because then life would be like Naked and Afraid; the population problem would be fixed,” said by people who have seen the show on TV.

Holy shit.

So, I thought it was time to address these comments, which alas, have been said to me by classmates, housemates, followers via social media, etc.

First of all, if climate change continues and we experience a runaway greenhouse effect which heats our planet up drastically, we are probably all screwed. At some point, when there just aren’t enough plants photosynthesizing our CO2, the atmosphere becomes unbreathable to oxygen-breathing eukaryotes like humans. So while we are watching the CO2-breathing, oxygen-creating eukaryotes like photosynthetic plants die off in droves from pollution, deforestation, tree-killing insect epidemics, and natural catastrophes like wildfires, we are watching the beginning of an end that we truly never want to see.

Don’t believe me?

Once upon a time, this planet was inhabited solely by prokaryotes, and oxygen would have been considered too corrosive for the majority of life on this planet. Now, we have evolved over billions of years to adapt to the atmosphere which we currently breathe, and we are observing this atmosphere change in a much more rapid way than we as life forms can adapt to (“we” meaning homo sapiens).

Nude walkabout, post fire dancing excursion over the river in my favorite national park.

So my point here is, the entire planet would be affected. You won’t be running around in a loin cloth like Tarzan, being followed by a producer and camera crew. You’re not going to be heroically monkeying through a lush jungle full of fruit trees and fishing with a spear so you can gloriously show off your kill, retaking shots for better angles, sound bytes, and to avoid the accidental shots of modern civilization in the background. There won’t be a civilized, homeostatic future to return to at any point that you wish to give up, and there won’t be a time frame in which you know if you make it, you will be rewarded with food platters, pats on the back,  warm showers, (and possibly also a lifetime of defamatory false-light editing and cyber bullying, if you are really lucky).

No. More likely, if you manage to live on into a hot and barely breathable atmosphere, your days will be unfortunately numbered. If billions of other people, plants, and animals are dead or close to it, you will most likely be searching for a gas mask or oxygen tank. Fruit trees will likely be dead, especially since the bees are rapidly dying off and pollination is becoming less likely.

God help you if a wildfire breaks out nearby. Have you ever lived somewhere with wildfires? The smoke will make you cough black. And of course, there won’t be federal or state funding backing up firefighters to extinguish that fire. Better run, and run fast. Break an ankle or leg? Forget it. You’re BBQ. If you know how to hunt or trap, and there are any fish, lizards, rats, birds left, and they aren’t so toxic that they will kill you or make you ill, you will be lucky, because chances are at some point you will want some bartering chips for all the other remaining survivors who, now that society has devolved into chaos and anarchy, want to eat you.

You probably will be looking for light-weight protective gear which doesn’t make you melt from heat and covers your face and skin from the caustic air and acid rain which is falling from the sky.

If you aren’t hiding in a bunker from nuclear fallout, that is.

What will happen to all our nuclear power plants when the world goes dark? Their cooling systems, what will prevent everything from melting down?

(Hint: It won’t be a Marvel or DC superhero preventing worldwide nuclear melt-throughs)

Ever lived out of a car before? Gone a day without food or water? Man, car starvation will seem dreamy when shit hits the fan.

And that job that you no longer have, because everyone you know is dead and society has finally fallen? That job you used to wish you could etenerally avoid, if life could be easy like you imagined it was from watching reality television shows about people “surthriving” in all their naked glory? Boy. You will be wishing so hard that you had that job again. And your house, your friends, your family.  You will be wistfully remembering the days when you struggled to pay rent or bike to work because you couldn’t afford gas, because back then the air was breathable and people weren’t trying to eat you.

You may in fact be wishing you were a prokaryotic single-celled organism, like a cute little archaic bacteria, because at some point, those are going to be the only organisms that can survive in our altered atmosphere.

So my point here is, instead of sitting at home,  watching TV and wishing for global destruction of the majority of the human race, in some Adam and Eve fantasy that results in you miraculously not dying too, perhaps you should consider the following: What can I do to help save the planet? What can I do to help prevent our entire species from killing itself off, as well as the majority of life on Earth?

These kinds of questions are important. Sitting at home, watching television programming, blasting your air conditioning system, eating meat every day (btw it takes 441 GALLONS of water to produce ONE pound of boneless beef, and therefore 110 gallons of water to produce a one quarter-pound hamburger), and hopping in your gas-guzzling SUV to run petty errands in your own neighborhood — these kinds of daily habits are ruining the planet you so desperately wish you could one day magically inhabit by yourself, but in a way that is more how it was over 150 years ago.

Part of me thinks, this is us all bearing witness to humanity killing itself off. Perhaps this largely held belief that it would be great if most of the other people on the planet were dead, because our species is like a parasite to Earth,  is just the reality of our collective consciousness acknowledging this fact. However, this in itself is also a form of collective suicide, so long as we continue to daydream longingly of an end that preserves only ourselves while literally sitting back and doing nothing to prevent mass extinction.

And that, my friend, is a sad thought.  That the people sitting in their air conditioned homes, eating steak and potatoes every night, fantasizing over reality programming, while largely continuing to contribute to climate change, are inevitably the ones who can’t wait for everyone to die.

Me, taking a moment to reflect on the beautiful planet while jugging up Leaning Tower. Photo by Dean Potter, R.I.P.

Oh Goddess, Trump is so afraid of you.

I think it’s fascinating that within 48 hours of the Women’s March on Washington, Trump has signed an executive order reinstating the Global Gag Rule on abortion. More than three times the amount of attendees showed up to the Women’s March at the National Mall, as were there the day before in support of Trump’s presidential inauguration. What more could a man who disrespects women do in retaliation of this sequence of ego-bruising events?

But that was predictable. What really baffles me is how many women are protesting the protest, putting down the point of the march or the intent behind it, and labeling the 5 million marchers—the most any group has shown up in solidarity in the history of peaceful U.S. protests—as anything but strong. As someone so succinctly put, these women should be THANKING all their female predecessors throughout history who have put their lives and bodies on the line to fight for their basic human rights and equalities. For if any woman feels too privileged to stand up in solidarity of women’s rights (or any of the other major themes in this march: global warming, LGBTQ rights, disabled people’s rights, poor people’s rights, veteran’s rights, etc…), I would hope that they would be aware of why they have these privileges now, in the year 2017. And I would hope that they would have compassion for all the millions—no, billions—of other women who have less than they have. And I would hope, more than anything, that they would give those women who are suffering, those women who are less privileged than they, a platform, a voice with which to change their realities.

And this really applies to fucking everyone, myself included. We need to accept others’ differences, and sometimes that is hard. Sometimes that irks our egos or shakes our realities. But neither I nor you, nor anyone else has to or should accept the differences that embody literal tyranny and division. For instance, we should accept that people have different sexual identities. That does not hurt anyone. That does not affect anyone but that single person. But we should not accept those who want to impose their religious beliefs on people to suppress their differences. I do not accept nor do I support a president who threatens to revoke basic female rights to reproductive choice, for whatever reason he is doing it. The Global Gag Rule will similarly revoke any financial support to organizations that practice abortion in other nations.

My reason for believing in a woman’s right to choose is simple. It is more humane to ensure that every human being has a decent life, complete with food and shelter, than to force humans to create more humans with no means to care for those new humans and/or themselves in the process.

Fuck. I mean, my best childhood friend was adopted from Brazil as an infant. Who knows what kind of life she was rescued from, but Brazil has one of the worst human trafficking problems in the world. Instead, she got to live a decent life in America and continues to do incredibly well for herself.

If you are against abortion, are you for adoption? I mean, have you EVER in your life even donated money to any homeless cause or children’s rights cause? Do you actually care? Or are you trying to kamikaze into extinction by creating a one-path situation for all women, wherein they must have every child they accidentally become pregnant with? And if they are raped? And if they might die from health complications? Or if their child is definitely going to be born with a terrible disease or disorder based on say, drug addiction or genetic predisposition? And then what of all those new humans who are born, what of all those other kinds of diverse people that will be created and what will happen to their lives? And what about climate change and overpopulation?

Trump is fully aware of these actions he is making, and in revoking things like the Affordable Care Act, women’s reproductive rights, the right to a free press and free speech…he is creating a disharmony so great, that we will have to rebel.

Shit, he wanted tanks and missiles at his inauguration. He wants to be a dictator. He wants to personally choose all the reporters at the White House. His administration has started just outright renaming every deliberate untruth (aka lie) they say as an “alternative fact.” Also aka a lie. Or what they were previously calling “post-truths.” Why are you falling for his crap? What farm did you come from, and why has no one ever sheared the wool from your beautiful eyes?

Which brings me to the next point: Trump’s retaliatory executive order in response to the Women’s March, is an aggressive, unconstitutional reaction caused by his hurt ego. We should all remember what a fraud, what a trickster, and what an egotist he is in the coming years. And we should never, ever, normalize the bigotry he exhibits. He is not my President, he is a threat to democracy.

So here is what I propose: let’s look at the last few days as a historical moment for us, and give thanks and praise to every person who marched for human rights. I hope every woman with any sense of dignity and self worth continues to be inspired by what has transpired, and continues to remember that she is supported by other women and does indeed have a voice, a chance, in life. We Will overcome Trump, and we will change the world, one uterus at a time.