I don't usually talk about my personal life so publicly, but I feel the need to clarify the shower issue regarding James Charles Link, and go into detail about some of his other problems. Pardon the tangent and additional interruptions of Mouse's Ear Memoirs. My hypergraphia tendencies get the best of me sometimes. James has gone out of his way to discuss me publicly when he knew I didn't want him to-- so why not return the favor? The following is not a comprehensive post about him-- just a fragment of the information that I have. I'm doing a good deed for the next woman who may fall victim to his charms. These are things I wish I knew ahead of time. I never would have tracked down his home phone number and called him if I knew these things ahead of time.
I've camped and traveled all over the United States and Western Europe. Sometimes daily showers aren't available. I've had intimate partners who didn't shower regularly-- a freight train hopper, a vagabond who slept in redwood forests, and a Wandergessellen straight out of Deutschland. They all smelled like sweat and pheromones, and I liked it. They're also good at keeping secrets, and some of them are still my allies. I understand the arguments against daily showers. The issues with James Charles Link was a whole other ball game.
I was sitting on Jimmy's lap at the Recovery Rec Center where he was “volunteering,” when I noticed a strange funky odor. I thought it was the couch we were on. It was a rotten, ass-like smell that one might expect on the upholstery of a rural Indiana Narcotics Anonymous couch, so I didn't think much of it. The top portion of his body smells good. Later in the evening, on a different couch at the Recovery Rec Center, I was again sitting on Jimmy, when he removed his pants. All of a sudden, a poopy bio-waste stench started wafting, clouding my sinuses. Jimmy was excited that he had gotten this far with me at all-- it was the farthest we had been at that point, in terms of physical intimacy. I became nauseous as I sat there inhaling, wondering what in the fuck. Jimmy is missing half a testicle, and he wanted to show me his 1.5 balls. He was very focused on the entertainment aspect of missing half a ball. I wanted to be polite, but I just blurted out that his genitals stank. I couldn't find the source of the odor at first. His circumcision scar is jagged and ugly, yes, but many United States males have the same genital mutilation. I barely noticed his missing half testicle that he insisted on showing me. Soon thereafter, I noticed a thick white goop in between his legs-- where the thigh meets the pelvis, and in between. It was pooled. It looked like he took ricotta cheese and smeared it all up in the crevices of his private parts. The ungodly, horrifying, reeking infection continued to permeate, like an evil genie being released out of it's bottle. I started shrieking like I was in a horror movie. He wouldn't let go of my hand because he was still focused on trying to show me that he was missing half a testicle. He wanted me to feel his half testicle. He firmly forced my hand to his genitals, even as I pulled away and told him to stop. He was ignoring me and the smell. I don't know how someone gets to that fungal point in hygiene without realizing that something is awry, without being concerned about it's potential effect on a lady's company. Didn't it burn, I wondered? Didn't it itch? It was a moist, thriving ecosystem down there, in between his legs, with red inflamed skin along the edges of the goop. It was like a Chinese wet market or Wuhan petri dish down there, stinking of exotic life forms, producing the next strain of a global pandemic. I had to lean over the couch to catch my breath, because I felt so sick at both the smell and sight of it. I have never smelled anything so horrifying on a human body in my entire life, goddamned ever. It was Midevil. Oh my fucking god. It was Bubonic Plague level filth on this Recovery Rec Center couch in Crawfordsville, Indiana.
Jimmy identifies as a “grower,” because his dick is rather small when flaccid. When he finally acknowledged what was going on with my nose, his dick rapidly deflated like a balloon letting out air. I laughed at it, and our play time was over. He put his pants back on. An argument ensued. He angrily explained to me that with his six cats at home, his mother and grandmother decided to use the bathtub as a giant kitty litter box. Therefore, with the tub being a giant kitty litter box, the shower at his home isn't available for use. His mother and grandmother go to their friend's house to shower, his grandfather doesn't shower at all, and he stated that he occasionally goes to his friend's house to shower. He was angry with me for rejecting him sexually and questioning his hygiene, as though I was the one with the problem. He began trembling with Male Rage. He insisted that the white stuff was baking soda. It sure as hell didn't smell like baking soda to me. He told me that the rash and stench was the result of doing carpentry work. I've spoken with a lot of carpenters who have never even heard of this problem. I have asked a dozen or so tradespeople about this issue since it happened. Most of the tradespeople I've asked have been union, and the most logical answer I got was,
“He's a rat. That sounds like a problem a rat would have. People who work rat are too dumb to know how to wash their balls with soap and water.”
Jimmy has multiple personalities that I was unaware of, up until that point on the couch with the ricotta. I wish someone would've warned me beforehand about everyone inside of his head. Dustin Zahn, for example, could’ve notified me that Jimmy has multiple personalities when he introduced us, before going off to cheat on his wife Amy Shelton. After I rejected Jimmy sexually, the angry personality burst out of him. I get giggly panic attacks, where I am so nervous that I start laughing uncontrollably. I wasn't laughing because it was funny, or because I was relaxed. I thought he was going to hurt me. His fists were clenched, he was holding them up like he was going to box at various points, trauma-dumping about his horrible childhood, oscillating back and forth between his normal personalities and his angry personality. A nice one kept warning me about “Him.” At one point, he put his hands around my throat in some type of choke, and warned me that “He” will do that to me if I continue to pursue him, and that I should stay away from “Him.” He kept going into the bathroom to talk to himself in the mirror, then pacing back to me to yell some more. His personalities were talking to each other.
I should note that Jimmy occasionally code switches in a Rachel Dolezal fashion. He lies about being “part black,” even though he is white. I do not believe he has any black in him whatsoever. He occasionally humble-brags about having “lived in a black neighborhood.” I know there really aren't black neighborhoods in his home town of Crawfordsville, Indiana, so I had to grill him to find that he was referring to some vague time in his twenties when he lived in Decatur, Illinois. This was allegedly when he joined the Bloods and murdered seven people. It is interesting to me that Jimmy desperately wishes he had some African ancestry and lies about it. Crawfordsville is an incredibly white town, and it's interesting how desperately some of it's cracker citizens want a connection to oppressed minority populations, so much that they make up fake identities to tell people. This might happen because it makes them feel valorous to think they're victims of racial oppression.
Jimmy was complaining about his “blue balls” during his tantrum. A part of me was just laying there marveling at the freak show before me. A part of me wanted to get out of there, but we were all alone in the Recovery Rec Center building, in the middle of the countryside. If I screamed, nobody would hear me. I thought that if I bolted out of there right away, something bad would happen, such as getting bludgeoned to death on my way out. In those moments, I thought about Jeffrey Dahmer's first kill, when he spontaneously bludgeoned a guy to death for wanting to leave his house early. Jimmy was frantically searching for objects with which to kill himself. I thought it would be better to stay with Jimmy and calm him down until 10PM rolled around and it was time to go our separate ways as planned.
After Jimmy had calmed down and we were hanging out again, he continued to repeatedly take my hand and move it toward his groin, trying to force me to sexually touch him. He repeatedly forced my hand in a stroking motion. It was fucking disgusting, but I still had a misconception that we could have a normal interaction of some kind, or that it might work out. I have since called a women's crisis line about the thing he did with my hand, to which I was advised that “he is poison” and will always be poison. Every time I pulled away and told him no, he would apologize, and then do it again a few minutes later. He also begged me to have intercourse with him, and tried to convince me that it would be OK with regards to the ricotta as long as contraceptives were used. He tried to remove his pants again. I had to yell at him to keep them on. Jimmy trauma-dumps during almost every conversation I have ever had with him, perhaps as a manipulative tactic to get one to feel sorry for him. As much as I understand the situation now, his trauma-dumping was working at the time, because I did feel sorry for him, and I experienced extremely intense feelings of sympathy and concern for his well-being. He continued to bring up his sexual desires, even after I made it clear that I wasn't interested. Even the first time we hung out, before this evening, I said I just wanted to talk and get to know one another. The first time we hung out, he wouldn't let me go anywhere else in his room besides sitting on his bed, and he repeatedly asked me to lay on him and “grind” against him. He was displeased that I was unwilling to do that. Perhaps because he frequents the dirtiest of strip clubs, he thinks that is what I would want to do right away while hanging out. He cut me off mid-sentence almost every time that I spoke, tried to guess what he thought I was going to say, and then responded to his own guesses. To reiterate-- he finishes sentences for me, inaccurately, and then replies to himself. So, he doesn't actually know much about me, aside from his own guesses and replies.
James Charles Link pursues few different categories of women as potential mates. He is extremely sweet and charismatic when one first meets him, so a lot of women become interested in him at first. He also masks who he truly is. I will describe these categories of women below.
One category is the Fat Single Mom. These ladies are lonely townie types, and they like his flirty fun company. None of them are stupid enough to have him as a committed partner, but it's fun to have him as an orbiter. Secretly he is a misogynist pervert who hates “being in the friend zone.” Many of these women are alcoholics or drug addicts themselves, so they have that in common with him. Jimmy makes fun of fat people privately, but he also realizes that the fat single townie moms are more in his league, so he orbits them in hopes that some day, one will be his girlfriend, or at the very least, have sexual relations with him when they're emotionally vulnerable.
A second category are his E-Girls-- Jimmy follows dozens if not hundreds of internet models on Instagram and social media, as assorted jerk off material. Many of them are obviously young enough to be his daughters. I'm not sure if he actually thinks he can get with any of the E-Girls, or if he just likes looking. One can easily scroll through all of the ladies who he follows on social media, to see his numerous hearts that he clicks on for all of them when they post a new picture.
A third category are the “sex workers” at the local strip club, where he goes with Dustin Zahn when Dustin Zahn wants to cheat on his wife Amy Shelton. It's a small town, so some of these women are people who he grew up with and has known for decades. Some of these women know about his traumatic upbringing, and they feel sorry for him enough to allow him in their circles, even though he is a terrible person. When he first met me, he assumed I was in my early twenties, and he assumed I was similar to my coworkers. Most of his stripper friends are third-wave feminist SJW types, who think of themselves as opposed to things like rape culture and workplace exploitation, even though their boss Jeremy Loewenstein is a disgusting piece of shit who promotes rape culture, labor violations, and illegally fired me. These types of women are the garden variety poseurs who believe they are subversive in some way because of their gothic/indie fashion statements. You can find them on social media, virtue signaling about whatever SJW du jour topic is trending. These women are not really subversive at all though. They don't mind colluding with shitty men, exploitative bosses, and other hierarchical entities that they have no interest in challenging. These women are not risk takers in any regard. Jimmy feels better about himself for being considered their friend, because he is a borderline Male Feminist. We've covered Male Feminists in depth on this site already, but in a nutshell-- Male Feminists are the worst type of disingenuous leftist garbage.
Aside from the previous three categories of ladies who James Link pursues, he also pursues an assortment of waitresses, customer service workers, and any other attractive female who he bumps into around town and can fantasize about sexually. He'll take pictures with them and post about them on social media, as much as they will allow him to do. He follows their social media profiles as much as possible, in the off chance that one will copulate with him.
All of these categories of ladies can overlap too. For example, there are waitresses who are also e-girls, or strippers who are single moms, etc. He makes his facebook profile appear much nicer than he actually is, in part to attract potential mates. His posts include outings with his mother who he secretly hopes dies, and up until meeting me, he'd frequently post pictures of his cats with cute little captions about them. Despite all of these women who he socializes with, he almost never actually does attract a mate to copulate with. He was an incel when we were spending time together, and angrily yelled about the whole situation after I rejected him. He doesn't understand why none of his lady friends want to be his girlfriend, or at least see his genitals. He is aggressively polyamorous by nature. If he could be a player, he would be a player, but no women are interested enough in him to the degree that he can be a player. He is simultaneously searching for a monogamous female, but no monogamous females consider him as a serious partner. It is quite the predicament for him.
Jimmy has a problem where he calls most females he meets “Beautiful,” rather than by our actual names. He thinks this is a nice thing to do, when actually it's depersonalizing, degrading, and upsetting to any one individual who wants to feel secure as a recognized person. He is totally unaware of why this is harmful and hurtful, because he is a raging narcissist and covert misogynist. I badly wanted him to call me by my name-- Brandi-- and he was rather resistant to doing that. He almost exclusively referred to me as Beautiful. I don't think he likes my name or enjoyed saying it aloud. He was raised by his grandmother, who feels sorry for him because of his abusive parents. She has babied him to contrast his trauma. The result is a very stunted adult male who is unable to meet the physical, emotional, or mental needs of anyone. He can't even meet his own hygiene needs to please a potential intimate partner. It is likely a female would catch a UTI from him, or worse. UTIs are not beautiful at all.
Jimmy repeatedly asked me to be his “girlfriend” while we were together. He'll take any Beautiful as a girlfriend. Specifics of a Beautiful aren't important; he hasn't had one in years. When the last one didn't work out, he got a stupid looking tattoo of a heart on the left side of his chest, with the words “No More Pain” on top. It is likely that he caused most of the pain in that relationship, and he is resentful at himself. He expressed a lot of anger about his previous girlfriend from roughly five years ago. I never wanted to be his girlfriend, even if I do have masochistic tendencies and intense feelings for him. I cannot imagine taking someone seriously who follows all of those Instagram accounts, someone who goes to strip clubs for fun, someone who is “close friends” with all of those Fat Horny Single Townie Moms, and someone with such stupid looking tattoos. Never in my life have any of my serious partners possessed those traits or tendencies. I am pretty sure he just wanted me to call myself his “girlfriend” so he could have a trophy, and to change his facebook status to “in a relationship.” Calling me by my name, letting me finish sentences, respecting my physical boundaries, being honest and trustworthy wasn't as important as giving me the “girlfriend” title, which I did not want.
Regardless of my rejecting the “girlfriend” title, I am a naturally monogamous person, so Jimmy was happy to know that I had no close-geographic interest in other mates while we were non-romantically seeing each other. He specifically asked me to be “exclusive” with him, which wasn't a problem for me at all. I am just wired that way. I asked him if he wanted to break things off after the ricotta stuff, and he said he wanted to “continue.” It just strikes me as odd that after those conversations, he would lie about his schedule and then ghost me. I guess technically, trying to ruin someone's life is a way to “continue” things.
It hurts me a lot to think about all of the times that he tried to remove my clothes or get me to touch his rancid genitals when I said no, because he does have his women friends who he hangs out with, and I just kept wondering,
“Why do they get to keep their clothes on and not be treated like shit? Why are you treating me this way?”
Presenting a normal image of himself for his extended family to see on facebook is very important to him. When his grandparents die, there will be assets to divvy up. He has two uncles and three women cousins who probably don't know the half of what he is up to when he's not posting cute photos of eating at restaurants with his mother and grandmother. I do not feel sorry for Jimmy fiscally. He is a white male who works for Dustin Zahn's family's flooring company part-time. He lives in the same town where he grew up, with many social connections and opportunities available to him, by virtue of knowing everybody around him. He doesn't have to pay rent, because he lives in his grandparents' home, which he claims he will be inheriting when they die. Most millennials do not have all of the riches and resources that are readily available to Jimmy. He also has a therapist, and many supporters. He doesn't need more sympathy from unsuspecting women who he takes big stinking trauma-dumps on.
Despite all of Jimmy's lady friends and surface-level feminist sentiments, he has a deep resentment for women. One can scroll through his facebook to find that he occasionally posts things about “toxic femininity” and other anti-feminist things. His closest female associates are women who hate Amber Heard, and who want to “treat Johnny Depp right.” He has had a few head injuries throughout his life, and he exhibits classical traits of a serial killer. Mommy Issues and Head Injuries are two factors that many serial killers have in common. Ed Gein, for example, has many things in common with James Link. I thought maybe I would be his next kill as I was laying there laughing, while his various personalities battled each other. One of his normal personalities is a guy who has been schooled by his third wave feminist SJW friends on matters of consent and boundaries, so it was a bit confusing when he was discussing the importance of consent one moment, asking me if I was ok, then flipped into a psychopathic serial killer sexual predator the next moment. But, since I lived in Portland, Oregon for so long, I do know that many of the leftist SJW types are often full of shit.
Jimmy is a necrophiliac. He told me about how he has consumed Wicky Stix, embalming fluid, and played with dead bodies at a funeral home. He told me that dead bodies excite him, and at one point he wanted to become a mortician. He posted a meme a year or two ago that was a picture of a dead woman's body on a water bed, with the text saying something about how raping a dead body on a moving water bed kind of feels like consent. Necrophiliac serial killer Ted Bundy used to stash victim's bodies in the woods, where he would return to rape the corpses. I can see Jimmy doing something like that. When I was telling a friend about this situation last month, she suggested that Dustin Zahn is in on it somehow, and she suggested the flooring company where they work, Zahn's Floor Covering, is where they get the floorboards to hide the bodies. It was a half-joke on her part, but I wouldn't be surprised if any of that were true. John Wayne Gacy appeared to be a normal, social, quirky suburban fat guy, but he had all kinds of surprises in his floors, as well as accomplices who were never caught.
Jimmy told me that his six cats were adopted as a litter of strays, and I didn't think much of it at the time, besides that it was sweet to take in strays. His kindness towards stray cats was something that originally made me like him and want to spend more time with him. I thought his facebook cat pictures were endearing, and I told him so, every time that he obsessively asked me to describe why I like him. However, a few weeks ago when I was scrolling through his social media, I found some really disturbing posts from a few years back that I hadn't seen before. He found a pregnant stray cat in his yard and lured her into trusting him. She gave birth to the kittens who he took in. He describes her birthing process with him having to reach his hand into her vagina to assist with the birth. When I started to think about that, I seriously questioned this feral cat's need for his help. I am not a feline obstetrics expert, but it struck me as weird. I contacted a friend from the backwoods of Georgia, who has seen animal births, about this situation. We agreed that while it's possible the cat needed help, Jimmy probably just took advantage of a feral cat giving birth, or as the individual I spoke with stated,
“He wanted some pussy, so he put his hand in a pussy's pussy.”
Jimmy posted a photo of the mother cat nursing her kittens, and wrote something about how while he doesn't have kids himself, he was honored to have the mother cat trust him enough to press her paw on him while she was nursing. He was treating the cat like she was his wife giving a home birth that he helped with, and then she cuddled him while breastfeeding.
Jimmy is very interested in birth, and told me very quickly about his desire to be a parent. It is one of his main goals in life. He was excited to learn that I have never taken birth control, as though he was instantly plotting to impregnate me. That is another reason why I avoided contact with his genitals, subconsciously. Jimmy has negative feelings on abortion, and claims to have been a rape baby himself. He also informed me that he impregnated a girl when they were teenagers, but that her parents made her get an abortion. When he angrily relayed this abortion anecdote to me, he was expecting me to feel sad about it, but I don't think that's a sad story at all.
(By the way-- to whoever those parents were who prevented such a demon seed to be born-- props to you. You not only made sure that your daughter was not stuck with an abusive, violent psychopath forever, but you also prevented the propagation of his genetic materials. You did a great thing in sponsoring that abortion, and I salute you.)
Jimmy projects personalities onto his animals, personalities that I do not believe actually exist within the animals. It is similar to the way he finishes sentences for me and replies to his own sentences. He'll create personalities for his animals and then reply to them in great detail. I say this as someone who also knows that non-human animals are sentient, unique individuals. I just don't think his projections are a part of their sentience. They are his delusions, his imaginary friends, his multiple personalities. Jimmy did this projection thing with a plush horse head who he named Pepe, when he was a wrestler going by Jammer in the WCWO. Pepe the plush horse had no actual personality-- it was just one of Jimmy's multiple personalities projecting onto an inanimate object, for his WCWO gimmick.
I obviously have some self-destructive tendencies, hence why I continued with such a person and wanted to spend more time with him. It was self harm on my part, absolutely. I don't always know how to get out of bad situations once I'm in them. I do like criminal psychology and Bailey Sarian podcasts as well, so he is intriguing. I do wish I never would have met him though. Jimmy has a lot of sympathizers in his life who encourage him to take recovery steps or to heal mentally. They feel sorry for him. They don't want to banish him from their degenerate communities, because they either do not care, or they do not understand the degree of how horrifying he truly is. They think he should stick around and be rehabilitated. I don't think he will ever get better.
Anyway ladies, that's just a little bit about James Charles Link, in case you were interested in spending some quality time with him. It's just a little something to chew on. These James-Centered commercial breaks are cathartic and healing. There will be more of them in the future. I was extremely traumatized from spending time with him, and now that I have had time to heal, I do not believe there was any love involved in any of this situation. This is just a James Link primer. He's even more evil, calculating, and manipulative than I have posted on here. Some of it is way too difficult to talk about on here for now. Like the crisis line volunteer stated-- he is poison. He will always be poison, just like most strip club DJs and managers. It is the core of who he is.
I'm always one to deep google my crushes before pursuing them. When I met James, I thought he was a mature, community-oriented man who works full time, selflessly tends to stray cats and dogs in need, hasn't used opiates in ten years, tends to old people and volunteers out of the goodness of his heart. Most of that is horse shit. The internet didn't have all of the important facts readily available for me that I needed to know about James C. Link when I deep googled him. Now it does. You're welcome.
