The "New" Shit Show Ain't New
Jenna Woginrich Cold Antler Farm Substack Essays. (Just to make it easy for everyone to search).
Thank You for posting these publicly.
So many of you here have posted the truth of the matter in the comments of the last post here. This is recycled content that she has romanticized and fluffed. Any fool can buy an innocent soul off of Craigslist and she did….over and over again. She failed at every single aspect of keeping sheep. She should have stayed inside and rewatched the movie.
It makes me ill to think back on the horrors that she put upon those animals.
I am not religious but I hope she is forced to pay for what she’s done.
HD. I’m the one who asked your opinion on the last post. Thanks for affirming what we’ve been thinking, too. Jenna is using another new platform, and trying to rewrite her horrible history. But there are already too many receipts to prove her past actions.
ReplyDeleteNothing has changed for Jenna. She’s using manipulative marketing again, to sell another version of her “shit show,” to filch free funds from followers.
DeleteThe “witch” can’t wave a wand, and wipe out being an animal abusing beggar, a pathological liar, and sociopathic scammer. Jenna has never made any amends for her actions.
ReplyDeleteBringing forward thiscomment from the last post:
ReplyDelete***
”Long story about a relationship and compromise, a tangent for another time.“
she’s going to be blaming shannon for her ”not being herself”!
if anything, shannon seems like the type if there was any sensible way to expand the farm she would have done it. like, while she was there, IIRC, they did better with *rabbits* — a much more useful and less resource-intensive animal than anything else on the “farm”— than jenna ever did.
***
Yeah it does look like in addition to blaming us "trolls" for being "jealous" she's internally blaming Shannon for discouraging her from breeding sheep - because it's an insane idea to someone who took on much of the animal husbandry and improved conditions for all souls there for over a year. Of course being the one working a full time job and spearheading all homesteading efforts on a property they did not own meant they wanted to put the brakes on such a financial and life crazy-making idea.
But the chaos is content to Jenna, so buckle up.
I hope those ewes are sterile
Yeah, she’s right. We’re just “jealous” of such a super successful, filthy feral failure. Jenna is delusional about her lazy loser lie-style. I think that Shannon could “compromise,” but that Wog wouldn’t do it.
Deletethat was my comment. i forgot shannon's pronouns when i made it.
DeleteIt looks like one of her dumb enablers, Moronic Miriam, has already subscribed. I doubt that Pember Patty will. Jenna doesn’t mention her much anymore, now that she’s a born again lesbian!
ReplyDeleteNo one with a handle anywhere close to PPs name has liked the paid content. I can't see a complete list of subscribers though.
DeleteThe lamb essay has 8 likes by the way. This is similar to the number of likes she'd get on her cafny blog. It's indicative of how many people are engaged enough to buy things from her, ie not many.
ReplyDeleteI doubt she's making more than $100 / month at this starting point.
She needs a clear strategy and posting schedule to grow this if she wants to earn a living (stop laughing)
“This is recycled content that she has romanticized and fluffed.” Thanks, HD, for succinctly summing up her stupid Substack.
ReplyDeleteCan a subscriber to a substack read all the comments? If so I suspect Jenna must be moderating. I think moderating became too big a job for the busy farmer who couldn’t catch all the negativity in the comment section on her blog and just had to give up. If she blocks your comments on her substack can you get your eight bucks back?
ReplyDeleteYes I can see the comments and Jenna's response. Nothing controversial, just supportive fluffy atta girls.
Delete(Answered my own question) Every post can have comments enabled, or not, and be open to all subscribers or only to paying subscribers.
ReplyDeleteI’m taking bets on how soon she turns off comments.
DeleteSFF. If Jenna can’t control any critical comments, then the coward will turn them off.
DeleteComing soon to a substack near you.
DeleteI suspect I am the only critic paying for a substack subscription, and I won't be posting critical comments on the essays themselves as it will reveal which one i am. I'll keep my comments for this forum.
DeleteWe know she reads here anyway, lol.
Many thx for doing this.
Delete“The Glowing Shed”
ReplyDeleteJenna has another stupid Substack post up. What a busy little queer coyote. “Hey hey Hoo!!!”
That crap has already been posted above by our own benefactor.
Deletehttps://web.archive.org/web/20230119133519/http://coldantlerfarm.blogspot.com/
ReplyDeleteThe Wayback Machine is a method to still search through her history for receipts.
A FRESH START!
Delete“Hey all! Great news! The new home of this blog is at coldantlerfarmny.com with updates several times a week in a much snazzier viewer! Also all the farm has to offer now is there, with updates to come! See ya over there! No more posts will be at this site and Barnheart.com will redirect there soon!”
-Jenna and Shannon!
That didn’t age well. This was her last post on the old blog.
“She failed at every single aspect of keeping sheep.” HD, Jenna has “failed at every aspect of farming.” And also being a decent person.
ReplyDeleteEdit: “failed at every single aspect of farming.”
DeleteGlad I didn’t subscribe. Latest post on aliens is boring.
ReplyDeleteI thought the same thing. Thumbing her nose at everyone who isn’t her. Wash, rinse, repeat. Boring.
DeleteDumb dumb showed a screenshot of her posting on a local Cambridge NY group about the “alien “ lights and got nothing but responses telling her exactly what they are. Seems she should have just googled it instead of bothering a bunch of locals online.
ReplyDeleteCan’t hide stupid and lazy.
DeleteNew essay
ReplyDeleteA few nights ago I was expecting an alien invasion. I was driving home under clear dark skies. I turned off the highway onto my road, looked up, and saw a stratosphere full of unidentified flying objects.
DeleteRight above me was a line of white lights low in the sky, silent as the grave. I swear it looked like something out of a movie. Like a projection, almost. If you had told me there was a glass dome over my mountain and some whimsical small god was slowly dragging gigantic Christmas lights across it, I might have believed you. The lights were as big and close as airplanes, moving fast in an equally-spaced, single-file, row as if a conveyor belt of flying saucers were on parade. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.
It only lasted a few minutes. I felt awe and fear. At that moment I was helpless to both comprehend and control what was happening. I didn’t actually think it was aliens. I thought maybe it was low-orbit satellites that might crash or a military exercise of synchronized night flying? Part of me was scared it was missiles launching (which seemed absurd in rural upstate New York) but who knows these days; the news is a constant hellscape of terror.
Since I couldn’t do anything, I didn’t. I pulled over and watched until the queu of orbs disappeared. Then I texted all my neighbors to see if they saw it, too. None of them had looked up.
DeleteFolks, always look up.
I soon found out it was Starlink satellites. I coincidently witnessed the flight path at the lucky passing moment they were visible. Had I not decided to visit a friend in Saratoga that afternoon—and not positioned myself at the bottom of my mountain at exactly 6PM—I would have never seen the spectacle. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it, watching from my Subaru as magical lights marched past on a cold November night, barred owls hooting in the background.
I’ve been looking up a lot lately. I can’t help it, it’s second nature as a falconer. I can’t drive anywhere without glancing at the tops of telephone poles, my eyes scan tree-lines, I squint past low clouds. I’ve been trying to trap a juvenile red-tail for over two months. Which is why even in the dark my eyes can’t help glancing up. Hope is a hard habit to beat.
My falconry doesn’t impress a lot of people in the sport. I do not care. I didn’t get into training wild birds for the approval of others. I got into it because nothing on this planet gives me a bigger charge than working beside animals.
Now when I say “working” I don’t mean careers people have that involve animals like veterinarians, zookeepers, or farmers; I’m not talking about giving shots or raising livestock. I mean work. Endeavors like mushing a team of dogs and plowing fresh ground with horses in harness. I mean hiking mountains with pack goats, herding sheep with border collies, and bringing home a big ol’ rabbit dinner with my hawk. I want to physcially labor beside animals to achieve a common goal. That’s why I got into falconry. I’m in this for the partnership.
DeleteI think I’m defensive about my falconry because most people who are hunting with birds feel the longer you’re in the sport, the more experience you should have with different species and game. Progress to most falconers means flashier birds, more exciting quarry, traveling to meets or being active with your state club. They buy expensive telemetry gear and gps trackers for birds they spent thousands of dollars on. They plan vacations around big meets and know big names.
And for a lot of those people falconry is their main thing, the passion they dedicate most of their energy and time to. They care about their reputation as much as they care about their birds. And let me be clear, there is nothing wrong with any of that. That’s the sport! I’m the one on my own flight path, falling out of line. I’ll tell you this much for $8 a month; I’d make a shit satellite.
My falconry is a small cottage practice. There is no fancy gear or traveling to hunt and celebrate/commiserate with clubs. I would like to someday, but right now I’m a single, working-class, homesteader. My life is small. I can’t travel. Even if I had the money and time, I couldn’t get away often because there are dozens of animals here that depend on me to care for them. I go weeks without driving farther than the next town. So my falconry is cheap, close, and dependable. I still make it sing.
This is why I still focus on red-tailed hawks, a bird most falconers can’t wait to graduate from after their apprenticeship. Baby, I’ve flown eight. All of them trapped locally, trained on this mountain, and hunted in this county. I don’t mean to boast, but since I have mostly partnered with this species, I’ve gotten to know these birds better than some master falconers ever will.
Let me tell you about ‘tails.
Red tails are amazing. They’re beautiful and versatile and strong. You can train them to grab cottontails twice their own weight or fly through trees after squirrels like a TIE Fighter. They are hardy creatures, resistant to a lot of diseases that bring non-native birds low. They are so forgiving. This isn’t a kind of bird you need to weigh three times a day and manage feed by the gram. I have done, but I’ve also winged it. And that’s clutch for a single farmer who could get waylaid for 4 hours dealing with escaped pigs or fence repairs or the flu. I have had birds that I knew so well, and flown so often, that I didn’t even need to weigh them before heading out the door, our training so rock solid I could call them back from 200 yards across a lake with a mouse in their crops.
DeleteMake no mistake, I’ve also fucked up. I once had a bird take off in a snow squall over a ridge, and I never got him back. I shouldn’t have been hunting out in those conditions. Last season, I learned that just because I had years of experience and felt confident, it sure as hell didn’t mean the bird was. I lost him by free flying before he was ready. He took off and was never seen again on my second time out, which I consider the only judgement I deserve, passed and paid in full as they disappeared over the horizon. He didn’t need me so he left. It was my fault. I didn't deliver on the promise of a falconer, which was a useful partnership. Months of training gone because of my own impatience. (Did I mention they’re also great teachers?)
I love that I have all the knowledge, equipment, and skills to leave my house early in the morning with a hawk trap and the open road and might come back with a roommate. I love the slow and steady process of gaining trust, a real-life movie montage, with results that are so worth the effort. I love that I can care for the bird on my own property, his mews attached to my kitchen so I always can hear the sound of bells if he’s in distress and run outside to check. I love that I only usually keep one bird and it’s my whole practice, which is plenty for someone already in charge of a farm full of animals and five house pets.
I love that I have crafted my own method of training a bird to trust me, to eat, to hop and then fly to my fist. And all of it is for the moment they are finally solid enough that you can remove all the leashes and swivels and let them go. Trust that you did all you could, and when they have the choice to do anything they want, they come back to you. People have lived and died for generations and never felt that magic. I can make it from scratch.
I love the thrill, the absolute RUSH of the rabbit hunt. Give me a 6° winter morning with a dusting of snow and I’m shaking with anticipation. It means those cottontails will be that much more visible. My bird can launch off my fist and rocket towards a squirrel, or soar above a field doing scrappy reconnaissance and then magically hovering in place, tuck in their wings, and slamming into the ground with decision. All you hear are bells and rabbit screams - music to my ears.
Listen, bloodsports aren’t for everyone and raptors can be very dangerous. I don’t ever want to come across as encouraging folks to take up the sport who aren’t ready for the time and work it takes. But if some part of you dreams of walking into the woods with a bird and spending your days exploring and hoping with a trained dragon, I can’t encourage you enough.
You get one shot at this life, and there’s a lot of paths you can take. But if you decide to join our ranks, understand you’re on a flight path of your own, make your passions yours. Practice them well and within your means, but you never have to stay in line.
And for the love of god always look up.
And that's it.
DeleteIt’s the same old recyled, rotten writing that’s slightly tweaked for public consumption. Jenna never changes. She’s an animal abusing beggar, a pathological liar, and sociopathic scammer.
DeleteEdit: recycled
DeleteHere she goes again with the stupid “My life is small.” Poor widdle Wog has a teeny tiny existence.
Delete“I got into it because nothing on this planet gives me a bigger charge than working beside animals.” What gives her “a bigger charge” is using manipulative marketing to elicit empathy from followers to filch free funds.
Delete“And for the love of god always look up.” She’s used this lame line before.
Delete"I’ll tell you this much for $8 a month; I’d make a shit satellite." Haha, really?
Delete"just because I had years of experience and felt confident, it sure as hell didn’t mean the bird was. I lost him by free flying before he was ready. He took off and was never seen again" Wow, the poor bird sure lacked confidence! If only he had learned to fly before he took off!
"All you hear are bells and rabbit screams - music to my ears." From the "animal lover" psychopath herself. She doesn’t realize how sick she really is. And this of course isn't just an unfortunate written line. How many times have we seen it? At least 10 that she has written about publicly. May she get what she deserves.
ReplyDeleteHD
“I put the laughter back in slaughter.” Only a sick sociopath would make s statement like that.
DeleteEdit: would make a statement
DeleteHer writing is so bad.
ReplyDeleteBut we knew that.
And this new temporary platform and the temporary high from 77 subscriptions- trial or real, has given her an even bigger chip on the undeserving shoulder. Her bragging and boasting is nauseating.
The writing is rotten as usual. I agree about “her bragging and boasting is nauseating.” Jenna is a cunt. She’s a garbage human being.
DeleteHer “high” won’t last long. It never does. I’ll bet that she’s big mad we’re reading her rotten writing for free. “Boy, Howdy!!!”
DeleteSo, nothing new then for $8 a month? I thought these would be “juicy”. This is just her blathering about how she loves to abuse animals again. Glad she was able to leave her mountain and go to Saratoga though to visit a friend, she never gets to do anything!!!!
ReplyDeleteMoronic Miriam lives in Saratoga. She’s another dumb enabler.
Delete“Here’s an essay worth reading if your into aliens and working-class falconry”
ReplyDeleteIt’s spelled “you’re,” stupid, and you also forgot the period.
To my knowledge, Jenna's hawks have never caught any game, so talk of rabbit screams seems to be pure disturbing fiction. Jenna also has never successfully hunted deer, and has only caught tiny fish that fit in the palm of her hand. I wish she would go on that show ALONE where you have to catch your own food or tap out. She wouldn't last two days.
ReplyDeleteSOTM, you're correct. If people paid attention to her past writings, they'd see her captive birds rarely, if ever, caught anything. The two photos she "posed" weren't evidence of a successful hunt; they were clearly staged. And no one who saw it will EVER forget her laughable posed road-kill squirrels photo (showing a bag of tails only], as supposed proof of successful hunts.
DeleteNo, when she didn't neglect raptors (not weighing daily to see if they were hungry) or ignore them (lazy-a$$ that she is), she fed them delivered quail and rats. Other than that, their use was social media fodder only - dragging them to bars and working HUGELY to impress the NYC crowd.
Also, despite all her macha posturing, she never bagged a deer - unless you count the one she hit with PP's donated car. Don't fret, readers, she had all sorts of excuses for why the hunts were unsuccessful. Of course, the faults were external to her.
In truth, I'm really pleased she never shot a deer, because you just know it wouldn't be a quick & clean kill shot, and she'd let the animal suffer.
PDD
I agree with what you both wrote. Jenna is a homesteading hobbyist at best. Her hawks are only acquired to be used as posed pet props.
Delete“Post-chore foot soak”
ReplyDeleteAt least, she’s not showing her ugly fat feet in the photo for once.
I keep thinking that she’s catering to foot fetish freaks. No one cares about her stupid soaks.
DeleteWell, the honeymoon is over. The latest on Substack is classic, clueless Jenna on steroids, a true example of putting lipstick on a pig. If this is the “juicy” content she trumpeted when she made her announcement to monetize her writing, folks should be running for the exits. She’s certainly a pompous middle-aged nobody.
ReplyDelete“Juicy Jenna” has already dried out of content. “You can’t polish poop.”
DeleteThat’s the vibe I am getting, thanks to the shamster who is generously taking one for the team.
ReplyDeleteA pompous wanna be.
Jenna has always had a massive sense of unearned, arrogant attitude. She’s an ugly, obese, stinky, lazy loser. It’s no wonder why she’s still single.
DeleteShe has posted a pic of herself with Gibson in front of that ridiculous TAS flag. Her hair looks dead. No body and no shine which speaks to her poor eating habits. Also wondering how she feels about her crush running into the arms of her hunky boyfriend after the concert. I read she changed the words of a song to reference him. That’s gotta burn 🤣
ReplyDeleteJenna looks awful as always. Her hair is usually hidden by hats, because of its crappy condition. She hasn’t mentioned the new romance again. LOL!!!
DeleteGibson looks so sad. It should be effortless to take a pic of a dog/owner where the mutual love is obvious. Instead Gibson isn’t even looking at her and seems to be waiting patiently for Jenna to release her grip.
DeleteInteresting since you can’t open any online media without T&T in your face loving it up. You don’t even need to search for it. How many years has she wasted on that sapphic fantasy?
DeleteI also noticed that the dog looked miserable. It looked to me like she had him in a choke hold and was leaning heavily on him. He looked ready to collapse.
Delete“This is my 2nd chance at a writing career and I'm giving it all I've got. This is passionate writing from a feral woman running a farm alone in upstate New York. So if you're tired of me posting about sales, put your money on a dark horse, darlin'”
ReplyDeleteRight. “Sure, Jen.” You can fuck all the way off, filthy “feral” failure. And shove your “darlin’” up that fat ass. You’re recycling old crappy content, “coyote.” It’s nothing new. Your rotten writing isn’t worth even pennies to subscribe.
I’ll also add: “I’m a scrappy little lesbian, living alone on the side of a mountain, who’s months behind in making my mortgage payments. Hoo!!!”
DeleteSuch a crass beggar.
DeleteJenna is literally, incapable of being a beggar now. It’s become her lie-style.
DeleteEdit: Meant to type “incapable of not being a beggar.”
DeleteIt’s been a few hours since she’s crowed about her number of subscribers. She was so excited about her big “announcement” it was obvious that she thought she’d struck it rich. If I’d started monetizing my writing I’d have had a few weeks worth of the best writing I’d ever done ready to go, the goal being to knock people’s socks off. Really, Jenna, this isn’t going to do it and frankly, even throwing old material at folks is probably making you work harder than you’re accustomed to working.
ReplyDeleteAgree! She should have at least a months worth of 3x week writings ready to go and have a predictable schedule. Ex. Monday- musings about nature/ farm, Wednesday- personal, Friday-farm related how to ( stop laughing all!) maybe a weekend “hodgepodge”post like “meet one of the abused animals at CAS? Her random topics and inconsistent posting is just unprofessional for someone asking for money! She should also have some free writings to entice new subscribers.
DeleteEntice them? More like turn them off.
DeleteAnon 1:54 pm: 👏👏👏
DeleteIt's obvious Wog should pay HD $8/month for the solid advice we provide.
PDD
And, yes, Gibson looks miserable - not relaxed at all in the eye.
Yeah gibson is giving the whale eye in the photos for sure.
DeleteAnon 154 - but jenna's gotta do it her way! Not the old trued and true proven consistency way!
DeleteAnon Nov 14, 4:47: Yep! and with her "years of experience" she didn't know the bird wasn't ready to free fly. She's such a jerk. But her bird wasn't.
ReplyDeleteFor clarity, I meant the bird wasn't a jerk! He knew he wanted and was able to get away!
DeleteHeh.
DeleteIn the hawk's defense, let me just assert: "Born ready!" :D
I’m shocked that she has 100 subscribers for her rotten writing.
ReplyDeleteIt makes me wonder how many are just trial readers.
DeleteLooking at her likes, the most she has gotten is 22 and that’s on the free initial post. Her actual comment engagement has not been over 5 comments and I think that’s with her answering back.
DeleteThis is a harbinger of continued payments. Once the dust settles, I don’t see more than 20 and that’s generous maybe more like 10.
Anonymous 7:17. I appreciate your input. That’s what we think, too. I’ve checked out some of her subscribers. Many are misfits. Just like Jenna.
DeleteHey, Jenna. If you want my money I need to know how many paid subscribers you have. Eight bucks is a big deal for me. For a writer so proud of her product and so excited about relaunching her career I’d think you’d have the number of subscribers right there next to your name on Substack. I know that you have to go to settings and toggle the little thing-a-ma-jig to hide that information, so I guess you’ve decided to keep the number secret. How do you expect to create excitement about your long awaited move to the new platform when I can’t even feel like I’m missing out on the next best thing? Oh, and BTW, just between you and me, you’re going to have to work a little harder to make a post about birds killing rabbits or the Starlink satellite sound juicy. What’s up next, boots drying next to the bunburner?
DeleteAs usual, it’s smoke and mirrors. No surprise there.
DeleteAnon 717 - you're spot on. None of the paid posts are over 20 likes, hovering around 15.
DeleteFrom here she is either going to grow it or fizzle, now taking bets...
So, it’s already afternoon on a Tuesday. Her last post on her life changing new writing scheme was Friday, 11/10. She promised at least 3 essays a week. Should her customers expect an essay Wed-Friday this week or has she already fallen off the high of sniffing her own farts?
ReplyDeleteI laughed at the farts reference. We’ve been thinking the same thing. Jenna appears to already be slacking on her posting promise to subscribers. She’s done this with every venture in the past.
DeleteShe has posted 3 essays so far all cross posted here and in the last thread
DeleteI haven't checked this site in ages, but I accidentally logged into an old Instagram account where I still followed her, saw her talking about charging $8 a month for blog posts, and had to come back. 💀 Some things never change, huh? Only now we're supposed to pay $8 a month for the privilege of reading it? 🤨
ReplyDeleteHey, Cryokid! It’s nice to see you again. Hope that you’re doing well. Jenna never changes.
DeleteWhen people comment on jenna's essays I can see them and click on their profile for additional information.
ReplyDeleteOne of these followers is a "founding member" meaning they paid for a year of these essays up front! No wonder Jenna was in a great mood, she got at least $250 out of subscribers this month.
16 likes on the last post, meaning at least 15 paid subscribers since one is hidden and I suspect Jenna is like-ing her own posts.
LOL, $250 in a month is equivalent to less than $1.00/hour for an 8-hour "day". She'd best keep hustling!
DeletePDD
(365 days/year)÷12 = 30.4 days/month average
$250÷30.4 = $8.2 per day gross (not net)
If Jenna got a part-time job, rather than trying to count on Substack, then her financial issues would be solved. But her unearned, massive sense of self-entitlement, prevents her from being sensible.
DeleteThe stupid, Substack sucker was a fool to pay for a year’s worth of work. I predict that this latest venture will be like her wool and pork scams. Jenna just wants free funds up front.
DeleteI also want to add that when Jenna doesn’t deliver, then their money was wasted.
DeleteThinking about Wog and Substack, I realized several people I know of (with hundreds of thousands of X followers) struggle mightily with Substack.
ReplyDelete1. To start, they're much better writers than FF.
2. They have a wealth of past life experiences, including internationally, to draw upon.
3. They're known for clever, on-point commentary on life, politics and the natural world. (This is why they gained so many followers.)
4. Each has become frustrated with Substack to the point that two left the platform.
Why?
1. They realized that posting impromptu clips on X is quite different than being required to post longer essays, so subscribers feel they're getting their money's worth.
2. They felt pressured as never before, because Substack deadlines didn't let up.
3. They suffered more frequent writer's block (see item 2).
4. They tired of platform charges, and pressure to build followers in order to monetize writings they previously did freely.
5. One writer, with admitted ADHD, struggled much more than the others. Daily distractions constantly interfered with time needed for essays.
How does this apply to Wog? If Wog can create a financially-solvent money stream, and quit begging, all power to her. However, her initial efforts didn't start off powerfully. They smack of being thrown together at the last minute, like so many of her efforts. Smart or clever observations are nonexistent, and I can't imagine subscribers being satisfied with her half-baked whines and self-congratulatory pats on the back. After all, for the $8/month ($96/year) Wog is asking, a person could subscribe to a major Newspaper or essayist.
Don't see it happening, but we shall see.
PDD
Substack is not search engine optimized. That's a part of the point. It doesn't come up on google searches. So you would have to be constantly producing quality work available for free on other platforms and push to substack.
DeleteSubstack's second hurdle is it only accepts credit cards. No paypal. So many people don't subscribe just because they don't want to risk their personal info, and don't like to use credit cards directly on websites.
Finally, similar to anon above's point, something is wrong with Jenna. Something that needs treatment. Her behaviour is dysfunctional and destructive. She is not a healthy person, mentally / emotionally, even though she thinks she's fine, it's pretty obvious to most of us.
Whatever she has going on is untreated / unmanaged and is going to cause her to struggle more than people who have none of her issues and already talk about how hard it is.
Jenna has always wanted accolades without working for them. This behavior is nothing new.
DeleteJenna’s mentioned in her first Substack post, about finding someone who would “hide from the world” with her. I don’t know if she gets how revealing that statement is. Her faux farm is an escape from taking adult accountability for her actions. It hasn’t “healed” her at all as she’s written.
ReplyDeleteShe won the lottery with Shannon and I'm pretty sure she blew it. It really looked like Shannon did everything and really wanted it to work long term, but Jenna's attitude towards the long term is reckless, that is toxic in a relationship. Shannon left with her cat and what would fit in her car, and she never went back. She left a lot of her shit, and over a year of her life "hiding from the world" with Jenna. I don't see a reason why future partners would fare better.
DeleteAnonymous 10:09. Shannon was wise to leave Jenna. I don’t know how she even lasted that long. I’m fairly certain that she would’ve left sooner, but Covid concerns made her stay a year.
DeleteStill radio silence on the Substack and it’s only week one. She needs to get it in gear. How embarrassing that she can’t deliver on her first week.
ReplyDeleteIt’s what we’ve expected since her “big announcement.” “Juicy Jenna’s” man hands are always held out for help. But she’s incapable of honoring her promises.
DeleteI’m sure that she’s already coming up with excuses, like in the past for projects. Jenna has “cried wolf” too many times to be believed now.
DeleteJenna put out a post today of more rotten writing. Her ridiculous rebuttals to our comments continues even on Substack. “Dance, little queer coyote!”
ReplyDeleteSome stupid sycophant left a dumb comment. Jenna’s asinine response was “Shucks darlin.” What a witty wordsmith!
DeleteHer abysmal attempts to talk like a country colloquial native are always idiotic. Jenna comes across as being completely fake and sounds stupid.
DeleteMy Second Chance
ReplyDelete“I haven't felt this excited to write in so long. Thank you.
Yesterday was a normal day on this farm. I woke up early and went about the morning fuss of coffee and starting a fire. It’s that time of year again, when mornings include caffeine and flames, certain as daylight. The house was cold, but the coffee was strong. It encouraged me to slip on wool socks and boots, dog nails dancing on the floor excited to go outside.
I walk out the lavender door smiling, arms stretching wide enough to feel my ribcage expand, sunlight warming my cold face. My muscles were tight from being swaddled in warm blankets, but reliably sliced through hickory and cherry rounds. I opened coops and told the girls how beautiful they were and the roosters how delicious they’ll be. I carried buckets of water. I threw bales of hay. Not a day passes I’m not grateful my body can still do this work.
I brought in all kinds of wood of varying size and density and stacked them by the fire like Tetris pieces. That’s what they are; options to fit the perfect situation. Some pieces are light and small to catch sparks. Some are big and sturdy to fuel the flames. And some sustain heat for hours. All are necessary.
You see a fire has all sorts of needs. Sometimes you need to coax dying embers with birch or poplar splints to cause a fast, bright heat. Sometimes there’s too much fuel or oxygen and the fire gets dangerously hot, so I keep pieces of waterlogged maple on hand, like picking up a wet brick. You set one of those in a roaring wood stove, close the airflow, and a once-dangerous fire has to get busy trying to break down the new fuel. Steam hisses, flames die down, and all that anger, all that thrashing of flame and light turns into a dog gnawing on a bone in a cast-iron cage. I have learned to use ferocity to deliver entropy to create comfort. Neat.
DeleteOver the years fire became another life I needed to tend, and like anything else, the longer you do it the better you get. The wielder of the axe becomes a thermostat. Your presence and efforts, the dial. Heat to live your life in is earned in a way few people still practice. But I swear it’s worth it. Fire is what I need to feel truly warm. I can’t image baseboards ever feeling real again…
Now, when I say yesterday was normal, I don’t just mean tending fires. I mean that the rest of the day was the usual list of farm chores, soap orders, illustration updates, and logo clients. I spent most of that gray day at my computer, only taking breaks to walk outside and check on the animals’ water and general whereabouts, but mostly sat with client work. I left the house once to run errands. I picked up soap fats and bought pig feed and paper towels. I didn’t get around to laundry like I wanted to. I didn’t cook an amazing meal. I didn’t have time, I was working on double the customers.
Yesterday I worked a normal overwhelming American weekday with household responsibilities just like the rest of you. But it felt so different. It felt like the last day at the office before a two-week holiday or the hour before a first date. It felt exciting as all get out, because all that work yesterday was done so this morning I could clear my schedule for my new part-time job:
DeleteWriting to you.
This morning was not a normal day on this farm. Not at all. Because today I woke up excited to write and proud of the life I made. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve truly felt that.
All these years, all this time, writing was a compulsion to share my fear and joy. I wrote in a desperate effort to attract like minds so I felt less alone. And all this time I felt I couldn’t ask anyone to pay for the words.But that was twenty years ago and being a professional writer is nothing like it was back then. I never made the blog a paid subscription because I didn’t feel like I deserved it. And if I’m really honest. I was scared if I asked, no one would sign up. It would finally prove my writing wasn't worth anything. It might be good. It might be enjoyed. But not worth the money a woman needs to live.
Holy crow, was I wrong.
I can’t thank you enough. This substack feels like a second chance to grow up and become a writer. I’m 41 and you’ve made me feel like a freshman in college again. You’ve given me tangible hope that I can have the life I dreamed of, not just pieces of it I have to fight tooth and nail for. I’ve been walking taller. My heart is lighter. I’m taking notes on ideas all day and thinking about the stuff I wrote about when I started out. I can’t stop smiling. I feel real hope for the future. It’s been so damn long I forgot how it changes everything.
DeleteThere’s a return of dignity for the first time in a very long time. You may think of me as an author, but I’ve been making a living slopping pigs and curing mint soap, not writing. It ate away at my confidence, turned every day into drudgery, and left a veneer of desperation coating everything. It’s been so hard.
I can not thank you readers enough who chose to put money on the barrelhead from jump. I’ve been giving away my life story for nearly two decades. I spent all this time on social media, every single pathetic day, spamming threads with anything and everything this farm had to offer and it was getting harder and harder to get a sale and I kept falling farther behind. My writing became so dark. So did I. Maybe someday I’ll write about those lowest moments, but I’m not ready to yet.
But as of this morning, there are 70 people willing to pay me to write since launching a few days ago! And there’s almost a hundred more of you that still might. I hope so. I pray so. Because just like all the different types of firewood I gather, that’s what your subscriptions are; fuel towards something better.
Most of you offered monthly $8 donations, Thank you. A single match isn’t much light, but when a spark has a a bunch of friends right next to it, you’ve got yourself a blaze. Some of you (amazingly!) signed up for a year of writing upfront - that’s the kind of support that can steadily fuel this operation. And a handful of you chose to become Founding Members, which is why I’m delighted to share today that my first payment from substack cover the October mortgage. It won’t cover November. It won’t buy in all my hay. But I get to live here another month because of my writing, and what an honor and show of faith that is. I can’t remember the last time I paid the October mortgage before December hit. It feels like I’m finally getting my life together.
DeleteI know a 100 monthly subscribers is not enough money to make a living, but I firmly believe, that if I keep up the quality and consistency of a woman writing to save herself, people will continue to subscribe. They’ll share it with friends or their social media. Word will get around that a fires being stoked.
DeleteI am going to write like someone worth a thousand followers, even if I don’t have a tenth of that. If you like a post or essay here, please use the share links below. It costs nothing to help spread the word and could lead to another reader that will become the firewood I need to sustain comfort. Maybe even prove to my agent and publishers that I’m worth another book. Hell, prove to myself I’m worth it.
I feel like in a few months of growth here, I will be able to walk through town again with my head high. I’ll be steadily supporting myself with my writing, and better than any part-time job or roommate ever could.
That’s what your $8 goes towards, folks. A woman’s returned dignity and sense of safety that it’s getting harder to lose her farm. And I promise you, if you folks hire me to write about homesteading, love, and fear in a way that helps me feel safe again, I’ll deliver. Hoo, will I deliver. Because writing from a place of safety and pride is new to me. It’s like I’ve finally come up for air.
And I’d like your feedback and writing ideas? Is there something you want to know more about? Please leave a comment telling me what you’d like to read here. Do you like the posts that are more thoughtful and carefully crafted like Flight Paths was? Or do you want super-personal posts like Rural Romance? Would you prefer love letters to agriculture and country living, such as The Glowing Shed?
All of those posts are different on purpose, to offer patrons a variety. I know all sorts of people are reading this and some just want soup recipes and pictures of sheep and some want to know what it’s like to come out at 35 and some want to just read a good essay that feels like they’re a part of a secret club, which you certainly are.
DeleteSo, from the depths of exhausted fumes and self-doubt, please know how grateful I am. The stakes are higher now. I feel like I’m writing to help you fall in love with Cold Antler Farm all over again.
What a thing, hope.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.”
My turn to “take a hit for the tea.” What a crock of crap.
DeleteEdit: “team” not “tea.” Although I’ll need something stronger to drink after plowing through her shit.
Deletehahahaaa "for the tea" is like saying "for the gossip" and is quite an apt typo! I love it! Thank you for cross posting.
DeleteRemember the last time she asked for writing prompts? A popular one was "recipes" so she posted one recipe for pancakes and never again!
DeleteHoo! 21 paragraphs just to say thank you. Girl, you need to learn how to edit.
ReplyDeleteSFF. Exactly. And I’m the one who’s rotted my mind copying her crap. She should pay me!
DeleteNo kidding. Love your handle btw
DeleteSFF. And I like your handle, too.
DeleteThe more you see, the worse she is...
ReplyDeletePoor Wog, self-annointed champion of the working class, faux farmer and a wretched 'righter', just admitted she's embarrassed by doing farm work. Not a surprise to anyone who's paid attention.
If Substack works for her, she wrote:
"There’s a return of dignity for the first time in a very long time. You may think of me as an author, but I’ve been making a living slopping pigs and curing mint soap, not writing. It ate away at my confidence, turned every day into drudgery, and left a veneer of desperation coating everything. It’s been so hard."
Clearly, having a comparative handful of subscribers paying her is her latest beg of choice. Thanks to their money, she won't be the slug who pretends to farm and care about animals. Yes, bit$%#$. She adds: "I will be able to walk through town again with my head high."
I'll bet real farmers aren't embarrassed to be known by their honest efforts.
What an ignorant, condescending maroon.
PDD
PDD. That was well-put as always. Jenna is a condescending cunt. She’s conveniently forgotten that each and every one of her stupid choices was made by her. “This” train wreck has been happening for over a decade and counting. The burden of being a “farmer” was her weird decision. No one’s forced her to quit a career to buy a home that’s been beyond her means from the start. Her “head isn’t held high,” in real life, because she’s loathed by locals for good reason. This is just her newest version of PayPal and Venmo. “Substack, it means so much!”
DeleteShe's claiming to have over 70 PAID subscribers. what?! I am very tempted to disbelieve that. That's about $500 / month if it's true, not too shabby. The "founding members" apparently gave her enough top up to pay her mortgage off the income from the substack, which - if she actually follows through on this for a full year - could be the long-awaited redemption arc some of us have hoped for.
DeleteI don't really expect that to happen, but yeah, if people are willing to pay for her blog posts and she keeps it up? Fair exchange. My only beef is her sub-par animal husbandry.
Alternatively, we could be witnessing the final swan song scam. stay tuned!
Delete"You may think of me as an author, but I’ve been making a living slopping pigs and curing mint soap, not writing. It ate away at my confidence, turned every day into drudgery, and left a veneer of desperation coating everything."
DeleteWow, tell us what you really think of farming. o_O. Tea, indeed!
I “think of her” only as a lying, lazy loser.
DeleteJenna, you’re obviously a regular reader here. We have some suggestions for new posts:
ReplyDelete1. What’s the real truth about why Shannon ended your relationship?
2. Why have you been a beggar for years, rather than getting a part-time job?
3. Do you receive any income from social security disability due to mental illness?
We look forward to reading your rapid responses. “Hoo!!!”
Sorry Jenna, not buying it. For post after post, you have proudly said you were dignity free and now all of a sudden you are concerned about dignity? Dignified people don’t lie, connive, cheat or take money for services not provided. You haven’t changed at all and I don’t believe a word you say, including supposed payments from sub stack. It’s just another con to make money and to drum up business.
ReplyDeleteI also don’t buy her bull. I almost mentioned above, about her stupid “dignity free” boasting just recently. What a lying, lazy loser. Jenna only cares about the con.
DeleteRemember when she said her "river diaries" were "turning into something"?
ReplyDeleteIs THAT what subscribers have to look forward to?
"It was x degrees, soft breeze. the mud squished sexily between my toes as I pulled a rainbow sardine from the drought-starved crick, only to mash it with my ungainly paw as I attempted to photograph it gasping for air..."
WiW. “Boy, howdy!!!”
DeleteRemember when she used to say "son" all the time, like a written verbal tick? Not it's "darlin'". Her voice is so contrived.
DeleteWiW. She’s been using “darlin’” even on her old blog. Jenna has several annoying “written verbal ticks,” like “this farm.”
DeleteHer “hoo” is also annoying.
DeleteI’m finding it funny that unlike getting free funds from her followers, Jenna can’t control that Substack deducts their percentage.
ReplyDelete“I feel like I’m writing to help you fall in love with Cold Antler Farm all over again.”
ReplyDeleteGFY, Jenna. Stop sniffing your own farts, and getting high off the stench. We were never “in love”with your faux farm, because we always saw that it was gotten by begging from the start.
After a decade with the wood stoves, she still doesn't know how to build/control the fire? I sure hope she gets them cleaned out a couple times a year, because she's sure trying to burn the house down. Throwing wet logs into a fire causes a lot of creosote, as does burning poplar. Good luck with that, darlin'!
ReplyDeleteBut nothing warms her like wood! She shuns the ease of baseboards.
DeleteShe’s never mentioned having the stovepipes cleaned. Good lord, how many years has it been? Our chimney is cleaned and inspected twice a year and we don’t even use it as a regular heat source.
Delete"My muscles were tight from being swaddled in warm blankets, but reliably sliced through hickory and cherry rounds." What? WHAT? Her wood is delivered already cut in to cute little slices for her convenience. When was the last time she chopped into a round? She's delusional.
ReplyDeleteman, she sure loves the strong verbs!
Delete(continued) I really hope this new blog gets her to resurrect some of her strongest turns of phrases. I have vague memories of things being as "forlorn as houses"; some of those great ones where she tried to use very vibrant language to describe things like having the windows open during a snowstorm while the fire is going, storm winds blowing through her house, that type of thing. She really makes a meal out of that kind of atmospheric scene-setting.
DeleteJenna’s stupid purple prose are just weird word salads that are nonsensical.
Delete“She really makes a meal out of” her puke pan pizza, big brownies and “spooky cupcakes with sprinkles!”
DeleteOn IG, with a picture of a chicken with a bloody head:
ReplyDeleteIf you want to know about how I spent last night bathing a chicken, link is in the stories.
Or click the link to my substack in my bio, home with the new blog.
This isn’t like other homesteading blogs. I’m not the place you go to learn how to trim goat hooves or grown blue-ribbon spinach. There are plenty of better how-to pages with beautiful photography, $500,000 properties, and perfect instructions. I am not that. I am here to make you fall in love in homesteading again. I’m here to offer romance, humor, and anxious-lesbian overthinking about the epic choice to turn your backyard into a grocery store. Those other blogs are for work, this is church.
Listen, I’m not for everyone. But if I’m what you are looking for, look no further.
Bok bok. Please subscribe. Bok.
Gag me. No one is “looking for” this loser.
DeleteReader “Kate “ on the new paid blog realllllly wants Jenna to talk about her soap making process. Jenna at first tried to deflect by saying “I can share my recipe, I know I have before?” To which I say, no, you haven’t, you lil liar. “The lye part is kinda scary ngl “. No punctuation. Kate again prompts for explanation of how soap is actually made, and specifically how WOG makes it, and complete silence from Wog. No surprise here.
ReplyDeleteJenna still can’t be bothered to edit her rotten writing. Not even for stupid subscribers.
DeleteJenna doesn’t want to admit to doing melt & pour.
DeleteShe never talks about rendering fat for soap. She should have a ton of it from her hog production, but she mentioned "picking up fat for soap" today.
DeleteYeah, maybe she made soap one time, but she hates recipes and never follows them exactly, so she claims. I think it's the ADHD making it difficult for her to follow recipes and she had many soap fails, hence one of several reasons she uses melt n pour soap.
DeleteI’m a soap maker and you can’t NOT follow a very strict, to the decimal point of a gram, recipe. I agree with you that there is no way she makes soap from scratch. At best she melts and pours with a few additives.
DeleteNew post up.
ReplyDeleteI’m sure that our benefactor will post it here.
DeleteI’ve just read the post. There’s nothing “juicy’ and “passionate” about her boring non-tent. It’s still the same old crap that’s been on her blog before.
DeleteShe says on the latest offering that she only eats one meal a day. Sure porky.
DeleteSFF. What a blatant liar. It takes a lot more than one meal to sustain her obese body. “Sure, Jen!”
DeleteSurely she hasn’t forgotten those high fat breakfast sandwiches she posted. She needs a spreadsheet to keep her lies straight.
DeleteIt seems like she blathered on to let her readers know about a muddy hen.. which she told about for free on IG yesterday. I’m not going to pay to hear you ate chicken pie when you told IG you ate chicken pie Yesterday. How is she so bad at this!????
ReplyDeleteJenna is very bad at doing social media. Even though she’s been blogging, tweeting, and posting for over a decade.
DeleteMakes me wonder if she dunked the bird in the mud so she had something to write about. She's done more bizarre things over the years.
DeleteJenna's last post in one paragraph:
DeleteThis evening I had plans to smoke a bowl while seated on my floor watching a yoga video, but instead I pulled a chicken from the muck of my semi-flooded property and bathed her in the kitchen sink so she wouldn't die of hypothermia. I ignored the possibility of cross-contamination having just bathed a live chicken in my food prep area, and I ate a dead chicken in front of the live one, thinking of cannibalism.
Jenna’s admission about “smoking a bowl” shows that she’s far from staying sober as purported by her.
DeleteAlthough 3:53 was a good parody it still seems accurate. We’ve seen bongs in the background before of photos, with other paraphernalia, and her behavior is indicative of someone who smokes weed. In addition, to drinking alcohol again.
DeleteI'm not able to cross-post at the moment, but there is a new substack up if someone in the reddit group wants to cross-post here.
ReplyDelete“It was the hour before sunset and I was finishing up the evening chores with the dogs. Gibson and Friday did their usual meandering about the barnyard. Gibson methodically focusing on one rooster to “herd” in circles. Friday stuck beside me like burdock, hoping we’d get to run down the path in the woods before dark so she could sniff out her mortal enemy: Fox. The sky was flecked with a few clouds and the air was cold, but nothing a sweater couldn’t handle.
DeleteIt was a normal November evening. All the livestock were quiet because they were busy chewing. A magical time on a farm when silence is understood contentment and all is well with the world.
My own dinner was in the works. I had a tray of veggies I’d spent a total of 5 minutes chopping and shoving in the 425°oven while I was out closing up the joint for the night. I’m proud of the farm’s potato harvest this year. I pulled two big blokes out of their covered storage basket, sliced a few carrots and onions, and then dumped a frozen bag of broccoli (still coated with ice) beside them on a cookie tray. A quick sprinkle of olive oil and some roast-chicken seasoning and into the stove they went.
The big plan, post chores, was to dump all of these cooked veggies in a pre-made pie crust with leftovers from a roasted chicken, pour some gravy on it, and bake it until the crust was golden and chicken hot. That’s as extravagant as a solo weeknight dinner gets around here, and since I usually only eat one meal a day, I was really looking forward to it.
DeleteChicken pie on my mind, I glanced around the property before heading inside. Merlin the fell pony and Mabel the paint mare were happily eating their evening hay. The sheep on the hill were doing the same with Cade (the goat) beside them. The pigs were quietly munching on their feed from the local granary, mixed with a few pumpkins leftover from this year’s patch. The chickens were mingling just outside their coop pecking at scratch grains, their evening snack before roosting for the night.
All things well, I grabbed the last of the water I needed to haul and headed towards the sheep hill. In a few minutes I’d be warm inside again, ready for my post-chore ritual of tea and yoga. I was exhausted and nothing helps me wind down a day like rolling out my mat, lighting a scented candle, and putting on a quick 25-minute yoga class from Underbelly. After that quiet time, I enjoy a big hot meal and watching something splendid. Baby, I was born to be in my forties.
I was pouring the last five-gallon bucket of water into the flock’s trough when I heard the muffled stress yammering of a hen? It was the kind of sound you hear when there’s a hawk soaring over the farm or everyone’s worked up because someone laid an egg (I have no idea why this is a call for group celebration every time, but I’m also not a chicken). I looked in the direction of the lonely cry. Walking towards me was the most pathetic, muddy, hen you’ve ever seen.
DeleteIf you think this looks pathetic, you should have seen her before…
She looked like she was dipped at Dairy Queen, the entire bottom half of her dripping with mud, some of it already hardening over her molting feathers. My farm is located on slanting land, and about an acre of it is nothing but swamp. If I take a step past a certain point I am up to my knees in mud. This was one of the new birds I bought a few weeks back from a neighbor. Clearly none of my birds gave her a heads up about the drop off.
I was tired. I wanted to go inside and melt into my yoga mat. But leaving this hen in this condition was a death sentence. The night could hit freezing, and a bird caked with mud wouldn’t be able to use her feathers to maintain her body heat through the night, and she couldn’t be expected to preen this level of crud anytime soon.
I sighed, gave up any thoughts of my stretch-n-spa evening, and picked her up. (Special thanks to MVP Gibson, who kept her in place while I scooped her into my arms.) I took her right over to the artesian well and gave her a preliminary rinse, trying to get the worst of it off before I brought her inside for a proper bath and evening by the fire.
DeleteI grabbed a random old rabbit cage from the barn stack, lined it with fresh hay, and set her inside it. She bitched the whole time. I put the cage in my utility sled I use to move hay around all winter, and dragged it in front of the farmhouse while I went inside and put a kettle on. Between the mud and bald spots from molting, did this bird ever look pathetic.
Bathing a chicken in your kitchen is quite the experience. She was well behaved, all things considered, and didn’t seem to mind her new cologne of Dawn detergent (If it’s good enough for pelicans after oil spills, it’ll do for this ding dong). I wrapped her up in a towel like a baby and brought her over to her accommodations. She would spend it beside the fire, pampered as a house cat.
I gave her some water and feed in bowls since she missed out on her evening meal with friends. Once she had her fill, she shook her feathers out like a dog and settled in with one soft coo. I no longer regretted skipping yoga. I was so glad she found me before roosting for the night. Had I poked my head in to do a quick headcount from the door I would not have noticed her muddy bum from a distance.
DeleteThe rest of my night was predictably, if gently, unhinged. Friday loves nothing more than getting to spend an evening beside a small caged animal. It is her jam. Since bringing her home from the airport eight years ago, I have never seen a dog so excited to do nothing but stare dead-eyed into a chick brooder, or watch the bait animals for hawk trapping scamper in their cage. Tonight’s episode: wet hen by the fire, which seems classier than watching mice run through old paper towel tubes. This is her version of Prestige Television.
Take that, White Lotus.
We spent the evening together in the living room, three cats, two dogs, and a wet chicken. When my dinner was ready, I will admit, I felt a little sheepish pulling the pot pie out of the oven. I usually don’t eat old acquaintances in front of their friends, but the pie did hide the atrocity from my guest. It was the most wholesome adaptation of Sweeney Todd playing in the county last night, that’s for sure.
Happy to report this morning the hen was clean and dry, if still a bit wretched looking, which is inevitable mid-molt. I let her enjoy the morning fire while I sipped my coffee and then let her outside to join her flock, no worse for wear.
DeleteSo take heed, dear friends. If you ever decide to run away into the forest and start homesteading, you might end up watching a favorite comfort binge series while a dog stares into the eyes of a damp chicken. Though I suppose there are plenty of worst ways to spend a Wednesday evening.
And the pie was delicious.
If you’re interested in bathing your own misfits someday but have no idea how to even start, here’s a guide if you’re just hen-curious. It’s pretty good.
DeleteThank you so much for choosing to support this farm.“
Oy vey. This wasn’t worth spending any money on reading.
DeleteShe’s incapable of writing without using either “baby” or “darlin’” in a stupid, inappropriate manner.
DeleteOr Hoo. Can’t stand that one. So effing annoying.
Delete“Guys …” is another verbal tic. She sounds like a twelve year old. It’s like she has writer’s Tourette Syndrome.
DeleteAnonymous 5:46. I said the same thing yesterday:
DeleteAnonymousNovember 16, 2023 at 6:51 A
Her “hoo” is also annoying.
So where's the juicy content?
ReplyDeleteIt certainly wasn’t what I’ve copied!
DeleteJenna claimed the “juicy”post was the coyote loving p***y post. Spoiler alert… it was not juicy
ReplyDeleteThere’s nothing “juicy” about Jenna. She’s delusional.
DeleteJenna’s been reading too many romance novels.
DeleteIs this the best she can do? One week in and it's a power snooze.
ReplyDeleteShe’s incapable of carefully crafting compelling prose.
Deletehttps://www.instagram.com/p/Czr4xz3OqR8/
ReplyDeleteHer food always looks gross. “One meal a day” for her fat ass?!
https://www.instagram.com/p/CzuJ3rwO1Fg/?img_index=5
ReplyDeleteShe’s showing off her old hawk in ick pics to appear cool. Jenna has no sense of style.
HD. New post please? Thanks!
ReplyDeleteHD, as a heads up, Anon7 hasn't been able to post since early November. She wonders if there's something blocking her IP address.
ReplyDeleteOh no! I can't block anyone and I sure wouldn’t block her. I haven’t been messing with any settings or anything. I have no idea.
DeleteHD
Blogger is a pain in the butt platform. It's becoming outdated and google doesn't maintain it well. I don't think there's anything HD can do about it :(
Delete