Tag Archives: naked

Hunter Moore is Bringing Sexty Back

5 Dec

hmf

Though this really has nothing to do with my life in Australia, travel, or music, my year-old post on Is Anyone Up?, the website where vindictive exes anonymously submit nude pictures of their former lovers along with a link to their Facebook or Twitter account, is still one of my top-searched entries and I feel I owe it to my readers to do a follow-up.

The now-infamous site shut down after various legal entanglements led founder Hunter Moore to sell the domain to Bullyville.com. In an agreement with Bullyville, all previous content would be destroyed and Moore, addressing the everyday people featured on his site said, “Everything is completely wiped. You’re good.”

But the “professional life-ruiner,” as he calls himself, lied.  Just when his former stars and starlets thought their pornographic careers were over, Moore announced the launch of HunterMoore.Tv.  Not only does he plan to repost the archived content of ‘band whores,’ soccer moms having midlife crises, and ‘gnargoyles’ but he added another feature to the submission process where users can include addresses of the unwitting people, which are then added to maps.

Moore clearly is not fazed by his FBI investigation earlier this year and claims that he’s exempt from liability because all content is user-submitted. On his new site, the 26-year-old who still lives at home, stated:

statement

On the homepage of the old isanyoneup.com, which redirects to Bullyville.com, is this statement:

“Here at BullyVille, we’ve decided to turn this darkness into light.  We’ll soon be launching a brand new site for isanyoneup.com that not only shows the history and eventual dismantling of this disturbing website, but also brings valuable information to people who have been wronged by similar behavior.  We are also putting together a class action lawsuit against Hunter, on behalf of all the victims from Isanyoneup or any other social media that he used to directly harass and intimidate people.  We’re doing this mostly for the completely powerless, underage women who were verbally harassed after Hunter posted their completely naked, unedited photos on his site.”

Only time will tell how long HunterMoore.Tv will survive before lawsuits, stalking claims (thanks to the site’s new maps feature), and further FBI investigations will dethrone the “revenge-porn” king. My bet is this is just the beginning of Moore’s empire. I suggest you think twice before sending those racy sexts to your new lover because you never know who will end up with them. And remember, the internet is infinite. You can’t just rip up the photo and pretend it never happened.

Hold on, I’ve got to get ready for my Skype date…

Skinny Dipping is Good for the Soul

15 Oct

Our two-week house sitting stint in Coffs Harbour was up and we were on the road. We counted on having berry picking work by now but all the farms we called said it would be another few weeks. The bills were piling up and our spirits were sinking so I couldn’t wait to put our computers away for a few days and disconnect.

We told a family friend that we were heading to the Dorrigo National Park for the weekend and she, looking at my boyfriend’s long hair and bushy unkempt beard, told us about a free camping/commune spot near the national park entrance where we’d find lots of other hippies. She joked that Matt would fit right in the way he looked but that they might try to convert me. I almost showed her the ‘let it be’ and peace/heart sign tattoos I have on either wrist but smiled along instead.

After stopping at the Raleigh Winery for a free tasting and having an amazing cup of tea in the artsy and somewhat retro town of Bellingen, we drove inland on the windy roads past dairy and macadamia farms, looking for this communal haven. The main road forked and a dirt track disappeared into the national park. That had to be it.

At the bottom of the hill a middle-aged man wearing loose hippie pants stood in the road in front of his rusting shack, driving a remote control car with his toddler son (who was only wearing a shirt and who, with his doe-eyes and long curly hair, I assumed was a girl until I saw his little manhood). We rolled down the window and asked what was up the road.

“The meaning of life,” he replied with a smirk, and we chatted for a bit and told him our story. He kindly offered to let us park in front of his home and use his shower and washer machine. He introduced himself as Alek and when I told him mine was Alex he said, “far out…,” in a drawn-out, contemplative way.

We hadn’t found our community but we didn’t need to anymore.

Alek told us about a watering hole and my boyfriend’s eyes lit up. We said our goodbyes, parked near the water and set out to find it. We trekked along the river bank on uneven slippery rocks and through thick, spider-web-laden bush. My boyfriend trekked along like it was nothing while my heart pounded as I tried to keep up with him, my eyes glued to the ground. I asked him to slow down and told him he was stressing me out. I wanted to take in the experience, not panic about keeping up. He slowed down (for him) but again I kept my eyes on my feet, nervous every time a rock wobbled under me as we crossed the river. I felt completely out of my element, like my suburban Orange-County roots were showing, like my love of nature was just an affectation I’d used to impress my farm-raised Australian boyfriend.

But carried on until we hit a dead-end and needed to cross the waist-deep water. I didn’t want to get my running shoes wet and was happy to turn around since it was already getting late, but Matt urged me to jump into his arms so he could carry me across the water. I thought he was kidding until he jumped in and held out his arms. I was a little embarrassed that he’d gone to such lengths but made jokes about him being a super hero carrying me to safety. The whole situation was pretty ridiculous and just minutes later we reached a deeper part of the river crossing where the stones were unreliable and I had no choice but to walk through the water, drenching my socks and joggers though I’d tried my best to avoid it.

When we finally found our watering hole we gaily stripped down to ours joggers and jumped in. We heard animals moving around in the bushes and Matt dove in the water and pretended to be eaten by a crocodile. We laughed about what we’d do if hikers found us there, prancing around a national park with only our shoes on, and joked about how this would make this perfect postcard.

How we’d needed this!

I got out early while Matt swam and took in our picturesque surroundings, breathing in the stillness. The sun started setting so we hurriedly dressed because the prospect of trekking back along the unpredictable river banks in the dark set fire to our feet. Luckily the sky darkened just as we made it back to the road, the van barely in sight. We took our soppy shoes and socks off and settled in for the night. The frogs and crickets sang in the background, the occasional firefly zipped past and all the stresses of our reality: the dwindling funds, the lack of work prospects, the mounting bills, the urge to bite each others’ heads off – slipped away.

Mother Earth has such a profoundly soothing effect on my psyche that I sometimes wonder why I even bother with this modern age at all. But then, everything is better in contrast. You can’t have the yin without the yang.

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