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So Danny Boy contacted me with the biggest work of fiction I have ever seen in my entire life at 3.30am this morning. Lies upon lies about being homeless in Newbridge, how I had bought him coffees and listened to his experiences. He quoted my phone number and everything. ALL LIES
What actually happened was we matched on Tinder, chatted for a bit, I thought he was a bit odd so I blocked and ghosted him on WhatsApp. Then another time I obviously forgot about that, matched again, swapped numbers again, realised he was blocked. Unblocked him, chatted away
Not about anything serious, mostly about dogs. We went on a date. I parked in the car park of his lovely apartment block where he lives with his Mam ( not the squalid bedsit he talks about in his blog, with a glass beside the bed that he pisses in). And we went for a walk
Me, him and Luca his little black dog. We walked around the grounds of Castletown house. It was alright, he was a bit odd. Then we went back to the lovely top floor apartment where he really lives with his Mam, had a cuppa and a smoke and I went home. That's it.
I may not remember every man I speak to on Tinder, but I remember every victim I deal with. You don't get to tell me lies about that Danny. And I've spoken to DOZENS of your victims. There's no escaping what is coming. You don't get to lie your way out of ruining lives. I see you
And now he's trying to lie his way to being a victim. Addiction is awful, I know lots of addicts, but I have never seen the level of fraud I am seeing here from any of them. The only thing he's addicted to is getting away with it. Don't buy it. I've spoken to the victims
Him: "lies"
Me: that's all lies
Him: I'm an addict
Me: I don't care
Him: you can't catch me nah na nah na
Me: watch me
Me: that's all lies
Him: I'm an addict
Me: I don't care
Him: you can't catch me nah na nah na
Me: watch me
