I am totally turned off by your love for fame and money. I was famous, when you were my driver. I was seen on the news and in the L.A. Times four times within a 12-month period in 1992-1993. The last time we had lunch, in 1994, you had me pick up the check. How dare you!? You are a low life “gold-digger” that has no soul. You take from people and give very little in return. You think you are god and so do I and why we fought. There is a beginning, middle and end of instant messaging done in a week’s time.
It takes all the strength in my bones to write this letter. You are a rapist. You raped me on August 5, 2000 at Reggae on the River in front of Bill Gates. You were there to kill either me or Bill. I told you ‘it is a good day to die’ and swam back to where I had entered around the bush. You told me to spit of Bill, which I did before skipping away. I figured it was either a threat made in October of 1987, “When you least expect it, expect it” or Harvey Weinstein’s revenge on me for telling him off?
We made a pack to only have anal sex with each other. I made me promise you, which I did, until I told Kurt Cobain about it. Nirvana sang about it in the “Heart Shape Box” song. I worked at New Line, when you were filming “Se7en” and production sent Courtney Love to the set. Courtney Love talked about it on Mtv that she wants you to dress up into Kurt’s pajamas. There was a period of time I suspected you as Kurt’s killer or Tom Grant, because Courtney Love thought to me ‘if I couldn’t have him, either could you.’
It did cross my mind that Harvey Weinstein had put you up to the rape and/or murder that you set out to do that day. Harvey humiliated me on the set by asking me to come to his hotel that night in front of the cast and crew. I humiliated him by replying to his advances by ‘fucking the shit out of him, literally and figuratively.’ Another rapist. Birds of a feather flock together in Hollywood. It takes a certain time of person to want to pretend to be someone else for a living. They are all nuts.
I’ve been told that I’m nuts. Nut is Isis, and I once, was a recording artist that went by Goddess Isis. Sub Pop introduced me to Kurt Cobain, where he raped me a night I got drunk and set off Bill Gates’ house alarm off, when Kurt and Courtney lived across the lake. I didn’t want to talk about rape, ever since he recorded “Rape Me.” I was raped by the Green River Killer and he let me live. I figure it was because I was famous and seen on TV as a rising music star. I lost my memories from the trauma.
Now, that I am older, I have become more curious. So, I acknowledged your direct messages. I mentioned personal things that we had talked about. You played it neutral and don’t know one way or the other whether it was you or I was being cat-fished. Either way, Brad Pitt, you are a douse bag.
Boycotting Brad!!
CP