Three things fangirls have tweeted at him in the past week: “If you had aids, id still fuck you just to say i have aids and that i got aids from you” “One day I’m going to have Hunter Moore tattooed on my stomach with an arrow pointing down that says ‘God Was Here'” “I wonder how many girls have tried to steal used condoms.” Moore has 35,000 Twitter followers his site has more than 91,000. This behavior is classic trolling, which has drawn him an online army of adoring defenders. It can’t get any worse.” Confront him for posting your nudes on Anderson Cooper’s show, and he will just repost your boobs the following day with the headline, “The Girl Who Confronted Me on the Anderson Cooper Show.” ![]() ![]() “We’ve all masturbated to you or laughed at you, and it’s done. “After a couple of days, literally, nobody gives a fuck,” he says. Cry about the emotional distress he has abetted, and he will belittle your concern. Threaten a lawsuit, and Moore will post your threat. “I don’t see how I’m supposed to be sorry.” But more so, it’s because he’s constantly playing chicken. “People want to point the finger at me, but I didn’t fucking raid your house and take your phone,” he says. This is partly because he insists he’s a straw man. The opposite, actually: Moore travels across the country DJ’ing clubs, widely promoting his personal appearances. “I’m scared I’m going to get fucking murdered in my sleep if someone finds out where I live.”Īlthough Moore isn’t giving out his home address or cell-phone number, which he has changed every month this year, the self-employed entrepreneur isn’t hiding. And there is a steady stream of death threats, which has Moore mulling over moving back to New York, where he has lived in two separate spells. Anonymous has targeted his site, as have other savvy hackers he now pays a security firm five grand a month to ward them off. Facebook instituted a universal ban on the site Moore enjoys telling everyone that he responded with a picture of his dick. In July, a San Francisco–area woman stabbed the Sacramento native in the shoulder with a pen, a wound that required surgery and left a caterpillar-size scar. Last spring, Bamboozle organizers threatened to arrest him if he stepped on festival grounds. After posting images of the daughter of a major GOP campaign donor, strangers tried to climb over his home fence. Naturally, Moore has spawned a legion of enemies. It’s worth noting Moore often advertises with the tagline “Pure Evil.” Now he posts nude schoolteachers, young mothers, American military members, little people, and, recently, a disabled woman in a wheelchair. “At the end of the day, people just want to see their friends fucking naked,” he offers. (“Obviously didn’t make Smart Water,” Moore zinged.) Should you mistake these targets for adhering to a code of heartbroken vigilantism or entitlement schadenfreude, let it be known that the only guides Moore follows are the law and Mark Zuckerberg’s principle that the greatest online power is the people you know. Over the past 16 months, the site has been a source of public humiliation for pop-punk bassists, a Maple Leafs forward, an Ultimate Frisbee champ, an American Idol finalist, and the founder of Dream Water. Hunter Moore is the unrepentant founder of Is Anyone Up, a virtual grudge slingshot of a website that gleefully publishes “revenge porn” photos-cell-phone nudes submitted by scorned exes, embittered friends, malicious hackers, and other ne’er-do-well degenerates-posted alongside each unsuspecting subject’s full name, social-media profile, and city of residence. “Can we fuck right now?” Moore whispers to her face. Singular attention can be earned, apparently. But the dancer is growing jealous, so she cradles his head possessively and coos at them both, “ My baby.” The California-based revenge-porn profiteer and his rail-thin companion, a Long Island dance teacher, are reclined on our legs, their necks on my knees, as the 26-year-old alternates between making out with her and another blond girl to his right-a 21-year-old from Philly who will later call this “the wildest night of my life.” Across from his best friend, Carlos Jacome, a Colombian-ginger wingman also sandwiched between two girls, Moore playfully pushes the women together so he can kiss them both at the same time. It’s after 2 in the morning, we’re squashed in a stretch limo with 11 others, stray limbs jumbled onto the vehicle’s floor like a pile of sticks. Hunter Moore is trying to screw a 20-year-old woman on my lap. Hunter Moore Makes a Living Screwing You – Originally published Ap–
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