Harry Reems's Questionnaire

After I left the Survivor reality TV show, I had a hard time getting my privacy.  My house was constantly visited by 'fans' who thought nothing of taking selfies on my front porch and ringing my doorbell to test my good nature.  So I sold my house and disapeared.  Now I live in Lemont, a suburb of Chicago.  I rent a small appartment above a bar, paying cash six months in advance.  When I come and go, I where a Covid mask, sunglasses and a curly black wig.  This disguise has worked for nearly a year.  I maintain a second identity for credit cards, vehicle registration, etc.  I drop the disguise when needed because I have to earn.

I leverage my fame from the Survivor television show to earn a very good living.  When I walked off the set in s30e12, my popularity skyrocketted.  I did the talkshow circuit to stay in the public's eye as I wrote a book about my life in the porn industry.  I entitled the book 'In and Out Again and Again'.  The book was complete rubish but never underestimate the stupidity of the American Public because it still sells well.  I'd like to think people appreciated the honesty but my heart tells me people just like trajic stories.  Maybe the ends justify the means.  Between the money still coming in and my investments, I'm able to support two orphanages and the continuing education for the children who are interested.

I am in the twilight of my life standing on the wrong side of 50.  I'm able to fund the orphanages with what I earn now, but it won't last forever.  When I die, the orphanages are on borowed time.  The children will become just an institutionalized number.  If I could just extend my life and perhaps increase my earning potential, maybe I'll have enough to set them up for the long term.  I'd rather not kill another person, but if they are a douce bag and their death will ensure my objective... well then maybe.  Why not risk my life for the chance to extend the good I'm going?  So many inocent children depend on my risking it all.  I need to be successful.

I suppose 'defined' is an accurate term.  I was only 10 when the baby sitter got the phone call.  I remember her crying.  She had her parents come over to help break the news to me.  My parents died in a car accident leaving me orphaned.  I had a public social worker assigned to me to escort me through (into?) the system.  I spent a year in an orphanage prior to them finding my estranged uncle.  Sure, you get what you need to survive in an orphanage but there is nothing for your emotional soul.  Nothing that will help you prosper.  My uncle wasn't the most nuturing parental figure, but he was way more caring than those state paid social workers.

Sadly, the person I'm closest to is Rich, my Certified Financial Planner (CFP).  He has managed my portfolio for decades and understands my financial objectives and their importance to me.  He is trustworthy.  Rich took a big risk in helping me establish my second identity so that I can maintain some level of privacy.

I would probably be closer to my uncle Bill if he wasn't in prison the last 30+ years.  Unfortunately a simple job to steal some bearer bonds from a Japanese company in Los Angeles went horribly wrong.  The top of the sky scrapper was blown off and most of his Eurotrash business associates were killed by a New York cop that got in the way.  I write to Uncle Bill every few weeks and make sure his comissary account is well funded.  I'm able to embed messages in my letters.  Yes, another trick my uncle taught me in my mispent youth.

Finally, there is Tammy Anne.  She is this freaky girl I met on Grindr.  She is discreet.  We get together every month or so.