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| Freer & Blue in Cambodia |
It's been a few years now so I don't mind publishing these private emails as the lesson still applies today for those with ears to hear, and eyes to see.
My good friend Peter Doran in Bangkok was a self-made multi-millionaire. He was striking to look at, tough as hell and stricken with the most aggressive bouts of violent depression.
He was a dangerous man to be around, but he was also one of the most generous, funny and clever people I ever met. I considered him to be an older brother, but from time to time it came at great expense.
I recall once he was pissed off with his brother Johnnie who had left for New York and decided to stitch him up by finding out some hotel details of a client/friend who was staying at The Conrad in Bangkok. Earlier that day he had tried to overdose and I was starting my new job as Planning Director at Dentsu Bangkok. It was literally my first day and so I could only help by calling another friend (Frank Duvi) to go check up on Pete or Blue as we called him.
As there was no answer from his bedroom, I instructed Frank to break down the door, a job he was capable of as a former French foreign legionnaire and Muay Thai boxer.
Anyway, after work, I headed over to Blue's and that's when he decided to take me for a drink down The Conrad in the Diplomat bar, a place I frequented regularly, he pulled out a scrap of paper with the room number of his brother's friend, and proceeded to order a 1500 pounds sterling bottle of champagne on that rooms tab.
I was frozen with fear, as it was clear Blue was in a mess from his earlier suicide attempt, and he didn't look particularly credible with a scrap of paper reading the room number out to the barwoman. Anyway, she took the order and delivered the champagne in an ice bucket wrapped in immaculate white napkins. We drank it and then we left to head over to Patpong GoGo bars. I only breathed a sigh of relief when we got in the cab. My next visit to that bar was very uncomfortable, as the kindly barwoman recognised me, but didn't say anything. It was not my order but I was complicit.
In any case the reason I am bringing up Blue is that he had access to a mutual friend's email account and he had made a habit of reading all his private emails on a regular basis for a couple of years. That is until, as you can see above, he forwarded me an email one day, thinking I'd understand it was not him but being forwarded, but instead I blew his cover by responding to our mutual friend as if the email was meant for me.
Blue was very angry with me, our friend Tim Ramos the owner of the email account who was a multi-millionaire sex-addict retiree from Hawaii was mad at me, thinking I'd colluded with Blue although I had done nothing but respond to that forwarded email which was quite insulting and so my reply was caustic, to say the least.
Anyway, the purpose of this post is to share that when the dust had settled, Blue admitted that having access to Tim's email had been corrosive and had fed an obsession that had become toxic to him in the end, as any addicted snooper and peeping tom will reveal when asking how and why their prurience had affected them.
I live a fairly open life and try not to have any secrets, because I know that it's your secrets that kill you in the end.
I eat, shit, fuck, smoke, fart and wank like the old bachelor I am who prefers not to copulate with ladies just for the sex, as I feel it's damaging to be in a fake relationship, (although I'm always on the lookout for someone special). Lady luck is always a possibility.
I have found that those who obsess over me, are always the same, and have recurring observable traits.
Insanely jealous, insecure and inveterate liars who have no grasp that some of us don't lie for convenience.
Snoopers are the meconium of the universe, and that applies to Pete's email 'hacking' and to anyone else who lives vicariously.
Get a life.
Mine is already taken.
