Liz Jones #6 She's not a war correspondent, she writes a column detailing how she waxes herself and poops in restaurants

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I’m not sure about love bombing TBH. He’s cancelled on her and ghosted her multiple times and (allegedly) given her an STD. It’s a casual shag at best. If she didn’t get red flags from all of that, then there’s no helping her. And she’s pushing 70 - if she’s not wised up by that stage in her life, there’s no hope really.
And engaging a PI to stalk the man is pure lunacy. What does she expect to gain from this? She can’t “shame” him into having a relationship with her. And she can’t use this stuff in court - it’s not like it’s a divorce situation.
Of course, it’s highly unlikely any of this is true, so there is that.
I’m not defending her, but tbf he did ‘love bomb’ her with his gushing texts, and I believe he even told her he loved her after the second time he saw her. More red flags than a communist party convention.
But this IS fiction, right?
 
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Not every relationship has to be super serious and lead to marriage. There are women that have a few ' Gentleman friends' that they have a bit of fun with and don't take it seriously, just how some men do the same with women.

A lot of rich men around her age are probably just looking for fun. They will have already done the kids and marriage bit with someone else.

I think she really just doesn't get this at all. She needs to stop taking it all so seriously and just have a bit of fun ( that will not happen lol), or get over the idea of needing a man at all ( also will not happen).

We don't all get what we want, but some of us make peace with that. She is ruled by regret and insecurities in life. It is okay to take your time, but not to waste your time.
 
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A rich man in his 60s doesn’t want to see a woman the same age. Inevitability he’ll seek a woman at least 10 years younger.
 
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Next weeks Diary - "In which I show him the evidence of his lies; he says his life is 'complicated' but he knows he loves me; if I loved him, I would give him time. "

Several more weeks of this dross ... then -

"In which I confess that, due to my PTSD, depression, chronic anxiety, profound deafness, vertigo, eating disorder and abandonment issues (Davids, the Rock Star) I NEEDED some fantasy in my life."

Then - The Mail announces Liz's retirement.
 
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Next weeks Diary - "In which I show him the evidence of his lies; he says his life is 'complicated' but he knows he loves me; if I loved him, I would give him time. "

Several more weeks of this dross ... then -

"In which I confess that, due to my PTSD, depression, chronic anxiety, profound deafness, vertigo, eating disorder and abandonment issues (Davids, the Rock Star) I NEEDED some fantasy in my life."

Then - The Mail announces Liz's retirement.
I predict - (I’d lay money on it) that she (like the narcissist she truly is - needing supply) she will seek out David 1.0, and lovebomb him…‘it’s always been you..let’s get married like we always said we would…I love you…it took this sordid episode to realise it…’
Rinse and repeat 🙄
 
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We all of us could have written this outcome, it was so obvious from the start. If I was in that scenario I would have sent him the videos whilst he was in my company and told him that they were funnies I had found on the internet, to ensure they would be opened in my presence. Then when he had opened the content ask who the women were.
 
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Now he is begging after I sent the video of him with his two lovers. His life is in my hands, writes LIZ JONES
By LIZ JONES FOR YOU MAGAZINE
Published: 14:02 GMT, 31 January 2025 | Updated: 14:09 GMT, 31 January 2025

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The fallout is immense. Having pressed ‘send’ on the surveillance videos and stills of him with the blonde on NYE and, just now, in real time, with the short brunette in fur hat in a bar, we wait. We film as he peers at his phone. His face crumples. The jig is up. He realises his life is in my hands.
Seeing him with two different women in the space of three days is heartbreaking. The brunette spends most of Saturday in his flat. In the evening, they get into an Uber for a date. Scrolling footage, you can’t help but compare yourself. Why blow me out on NYE for that? Why cancel me at the weekend for her? And she’s so young!
Later that night, he embarks frantically on damage limitation. ‘What are you doing? You’re supposed to be on my side, my ally. I did not expect. Why to destroy? Please have my back.’
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Typical narcissistic behaviour. Accept no blame. When that doesn’t work, he moves on to plan B. ‘I am sorry. You don’t need to destroy me, please. I was sick on NYE, that is the truth. Please forgive me. I thought we were friends. You said you were happy to be lovers.’

I told him that when he left my hotel room at 1am he said he has ‘no girlfriend, no mistress’. And ‘I do want my chance so no other women is a given. There has to be a concrete plan.’
‘I never said that.’
I copy and paste his text and send it to him. I tell him to read my takedown of my husband (that piece made number four on Twitter; I doubt any woman will touch my ex with a bargepole). I also tell him he works very short hours (I’d tracked him to his office).
‘Please, Liz. It’s not how you are thinking. My child depends on my living. I am begging you. We are friends.’
‘Friends? Are you insane? What friend does that on someone’s birthday? You lie, you cancel, you never paid for one glass of wine. I noticed you paid for the dwarf’s drinks and tickets to see a cartoon. Your excuses were so lame: “I don’t like birthdays.”
“I don’t like hotel checkout.” You aren’t even good at cheating.’
I send a photo of me. ‘You didn’t deserve me. Date women with better fashion sense in future.’
After he gets my photo he types: ‘I wish we didn’t have to cut off.’ Men. So predictable.
He obviously had sex with both. When I ask point blank, he says, ‘It was difficult, the distance. How would I slot into your celebrity life? [FFS.] I did feel something with you that was completely different. Give me a chance to explain.’
He says the blonde, whom he met in the last two months, is ‘gone’. Then he says the brunette has been blackmailing him.
‘Ridiculous! Who goes to a cartoon with a blackmailer. You held hands! You look like her grandfather!’
‘That’s why it’s called blackmail. I had to keep her happy. She’s dangerous.’ He says of her ‘that is over now’. He wants a ‘forever partner’. I ask if he thought of me as he helped the blonde stagger back to his flat. ‘Of course. As you can imagine, the few friends around me ask only about you.’
‘Are there more than those two?’
‘No others. Everyone is out of my life. It’s over. I need help. I will never lie to you again. Come on, Liz. Talk to me. Just meet me.’ This is plan C. Trying to win me back.
I tell him he talks in riddles and, anyway, he’d doubtless cancel.
I start to see the humour in finding myself enmired with such a t***. I tell him it was fun, getting alerts that ‘special ops are outside target’s flat’ and ‘lights have dimmed’ and ‘copy that’ and ‘female seems inebriated’. ‘He is now putting out rubbish, seems to have showered.’ But seeing him with other women was so painful when, only a couple of days before, his stubby fingers were all over me. I feel sick. Even the hardened ex-Met guys feel sorry for me.
I realise he’s pathetic. I tell him he looks miserable on the date with the fur-hatted dwarf. They don’t smile once, sit far apart, while in the restaurant with me he was smiling, his arm slung around my shoulder. ‘Miserable? Yup. Minus-zero affection.’
I have to ask. ‘Was sex with me better than with the drunk and the dwarf?’
‘A million times. I am stupid. I know your value. I have always been super attracted to you.’
I tell him I won’t call the females he f***ed, I won’t publish the videos or his name because I loved him, or at least who I thought he was. But I also tell him he should not treat anyone badly, as he will destroy himself.
‘Thank you with all my heart.’
Seconds later: ‘So let me come to Istanbul. It was in the plan. I am happy to pay for whatever.’ I’m there for a week, working.
‘We made that plan before the blonde and the foetus in a fur hat.’
‘That will haunt me until the day I die.’

😬

Good grief.
 
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How can she get away with this and not be done for stalking? She paid a third party to do the stalking, so just as bad.
 
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Now he is begging after I sent the video of him with his two lovers. His life is in my hands, writes LIZ JONES
By LIZ JONES FOR YOU MAGAZINE
Published: 14:02 GMT, 31 January 2025 | Updated: 14:09 GMT, 31 January 2025
View comments

The fallout is immense. Having pressed ‘send’ on the surveillance videos and stills of him with the blonde on NYE and, just now, in real time, with the short brunette in fur hat in a bar, we wait. We film as he peers at his phone. His face crumples. The jig is up. He realises his life is in my hands.
Seeing him with two different women in the space of three days is heartbreaking. The brunette spends most of Saturday in his flat. In the evening, they get into an Uber for a date. Scrolling footage, you can’t help but compare yourself. Why blow me out on NYE for that? Why cancel me at the weekend for her? And she’s so young!
Later that night, he embarks frantically on damage limitation. ‘What are you doing? You’re supposed to be on my side, my ally. I did not expect. Why to destroy? Please have my back.’
+1
View gallery

Typical narcissistic behaviour. Accept no blame. When that doesn’t work, he moves on to plan B. ‘I am sorry. You don’t need to destroy me, please. I was sick on NYE, that is the truth. Please forgive me. I thought we were friends. You said you were happy to be lovers.’

I told him that when he left my hotel room at 1am he said he has ‘no girlfriend, no mistress’. And ‘I do want my chance so no other women is a given. There has to be a concrete plan.’
‘I never said that.’
I copy and paste his text and send it to him. I tell him to read my takedown of my husband (that piece made number four on Twitter; I doubt any woman will touch my ex with a bargepole). I also tell him he works very short hours (I’d tracked him to his office).
‘Please, Liz. It’s not how you are thinking. My child depends on my living. I am begging you. We are friends.’
‘Friends? Are you insane? What friend does that on someone’s birthday? You lie, you cancel, you never paid for one glass of wine. I noticed you paid for the dwarf’s drinks and tickets to see a cartoon. Your excuses were so lame: “I don’t like birthdays.”
“I don’t like hotel checkout.” You aren’t even good at cheating.’
I send a photo of me. ‘You didn’t deserve me. Date women with better fashion sense in future.’
After he gets my photo he types: ‘I wish we didn’t have to cut off.’ Men. So predictable.
He obviously had sex with both. When I ask point blank, he says, ‘It was difficult, the distance. How would I slot into your celebrity life? [FFS.] I did feel something with you that was completely different. Give me a chance to explain.’
He says the blonde, whom he met in the last two months, is ‘gone’. Then he says the brunette has been blackmailing him.
‘Ridiculous! Who goes to a cartoon with a blackmailer. You held hands! You look like her grandfather!’
‘That’s why it’s called blackmail. I had to keep her happy. She’s dangerous.’ He says of her ‘that is over now’. He wants a ‘forever partner’. I ask if he thought of me as he helped the blonde stagger back to his flat. ‘Of course. As you can imagine, the few friends around me ask only about you.’
‘Are there more than those two?’
‘No others. Everyone is out of my life. It’s over. I need help. I will never lie to you again. Come on, Liz. Talk to me. Just meet me.’ This is plan C. Trying to win me back.
I tell him he talks in riddles and, anyway, he’d doubtless cancel.
I start to see the humour in finding myself enmired with such a t***. I tell him it was fun, getting alerts that ‘special ops are outside target’s flat’ and ‘lights have dimmed’ and ‘copy that’ and ‘female seems inebriated’. ‘He is now putting out rubbish, seems to have showered.’ But seeing him with other women was so painful when, only a couple of days before, his stubby fingers were all over me. I feel sick. Even the hardened ex-Met guys feel sorry for me.
I realise he’s pathetic. I tell him he looks miserable on the date with the fur-hatted dwarf. They don’t smile once, sit far apart, while in the restaurant with me he was smiling, his arm slung around my shoulder. ‘Miserable? Yup. Minus-zero affection.’
I have to ask. ‘Was sex with me better than with the drunk and the dwarf?’
‘A million times. I am stupid. I know your value. I have always been super attracted to you.’
I tell him I won’t call the females he f***ed, I won’t publish the videos or his name because I loved him, or at least who I thought he was. But I also tell him he should not treat anyone badly, as he will destroy himself.
‘Thank you with all my heart.’
Seconds later: ‘So let me come to Istanbul. It was in the plan. I am happy to pay for whatever.’ I’m there for a week, working.
‘We made that plan before the blonde and the foetus in a fur hat.’
‘That will haunt me until the day I die.’

😬

Good grief.
That was a really unpleasant read. She's threatening him with revealing his name, which we all know she will do anyway. She didn't love him ffs, she barely knew him. Imagine a man doing this, writing this.
 
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The bit about him being blackmailed is hilarious 🤣
I know it’s likely fiction, but I bet Liz is going to go to Istanbul with him. The desperation just oozes out of her.
 
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What a pathetic twit - Liz, that is. So desperate for a man of any sort that she persuades herself in love with a man whom she's hardly seen and whose love bombing MO was obvious from the start to anyone with half a brain cell but her. She attempts to buy him with food and name-dropped presents (who the duck is stupid enough to drop £400 on a man you've seen less than a handful of times?) then pays out more money to stalk him out with younger and better looking (couldn't be worse despite her vicious misogynistic descriptions of any other women in the world) women.

What an utter eejit. She's just showing how little self respect and self esteem she has, despite her fatuous attempts to make herself anything other than a z-list columnist. What a minging roaster.
 
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Oddly, this week’s diary has now been pulled from MoL and Google ?
Its back up with different headline. It's equally awful though so who knows why they changed it?
I've got video of my lover with a fur-hatted dwarf, now I am getting my revenge, writes LIZ JONES
 
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Well, I hope she feels better having got that off her cold, bony, vest-covered chest.


That's not revenge; that's the ranting of a bitter, deluded, mad old witch. She reminds me of the old woman in Hansel and Gretel, huddling in her annexe, cackling loudly, rubbing her hands in glee and hating anyone who has the misfortune to meet her. Instead of children she captures men and spits them out when she's done with them. witch.

Whether the whole German short story is true or not, anyone who can come up with this bile loaded crap, while expecting sympathy and understanding, needs urgent medical help. Unless of course, it's all composed by one of those Bot things ... :unsure:
 
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