Dillon Hess Desert Dad

Unlock the diary. Unzip the truth on these roads. Screenwriter, Director, Producer, Adult model/actor

[Dillon Hess Desert Dad @DillonWHess]

Giddyup, Cowboys. Hat on, Cock Out-

Tattoos on full display this is me, raw and hard, no filter, no shame. Every scar, every mile, every filthy truth I used to hide.

Self-acceptance only goes as deep as I’m willing to show up exactly like this. If you’re ready to ride dirty and real… climb on.
DWHESS 🤠🤠🤠

[Dillon Hess Desert Dad @DillonWHess]

DILLON’S DIRTY 🌵MAGIC 🌵 ROAD DIARIES

“Nothing pays off like restraint of tongue and pen.” @bowserbanks to tell you I had a blast with this sexy man would be an understatement.

There is a step, Step Ten in AA’s Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, page 91. I’ve had plenty of chances to practice it, especially with a phone in my hand and a damn good comeback already typed out.

I know what it feels like to want the last word. I also know what it feels like to get it and wish to hell I’d kept my mouth shut. Especially when it affects others. And I can do just as much damage by going quiet and making damn sure everybody in the room knows why.

That’s where the magic comes in for me. If I can put the phone down and give myself a minute, I can usually tell what needs saying and what I only wanted to say because I was hurt. Sometimes I still have something to say in the morning. It usually takes half as many words.

And when I give a man my word, I keep it. I’ve learned to take my time with what I say, because once I give my word, somebody else gets to count on it.

You can bet I’ll see you down the dirty road. 😉🌵 And FUCK MIKE! And the horse he thinks he rode in on-because you cannot transmit something you haven’t got. And in order to keep it, you’ve got to give it away. Many men can’t do that. However, I’m not many men.

So enjoy yourself today you all deserve to have a beautiful life. D

😈👿🌵😈👿🌵😈👿🌵😈👿🌵😈👿
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[Dillon Hess Desert Dad @DillonWHess]

DILLON’S DIRTY 🌵 ROAD DIARIES

Snow Creek Road and I have history. I’m 64 now, and I’ve been coming to this desert for 60 years. Goddamn right. @Santa_Bear
@DukeHightowerX @2daddiesdickin1 @MrpeachLA @TheRobbieCaruso @ReadyButtram
@RealBionicRod
@Tyson_SharpXXX

My family had a place up on Snow Creek Road. It was the first street when you pulled off Highway 111, and it took you into a little mountain community tucked into the low desert. It’s still one of the most spiritual places I’ve ever been. I’ve watched a lot of California change in those 60 years, and plenty of it changed right here in front of me.

As for the whole mess over The Drifters, I wouldn’t be surprised if it wins at the AVN Awards this January. I can just picture everybody getting called up onstage except one person.

The goddamn creator, you funny bitches. 😉

I’m over it now. Funny enough, that mess is what got me back out on these dirty desert roads to start from scratch. I rewrote the whole thing and called it The Drifter. Singular. I planned eight episodes and threw in a ninth just to make it special. You know I have pretty feet, you fuckers.

Then came my take on Gilligan’s Island. We’ve wrapped episode four of eight. The whole damn crew parties like it’s 1999, and by morning everybody’s hungover except the Skipper. He’s still convinced they’re stranded on an island. Meanwhile, they’re smack in the middle of the goddamn desert. Try explaining that to a man who keeps looking for the tide. 🌵🏝️

And to close out the year, there’s Sleigh Ride. That one started with a text I read in bed on December 26, 2025. I was feeling like hell, and by then I was sick over the whole damn thing with a man who calls himself a daddy. The text went something like this.

> “You’re not breaking up our friendship on Christmas on a text while I’m on holiday.”

And I started laughing. All I could see was Divine in John Waters’ Female Trouble, throwing a fit over her cha-cha heels and bringing down the Christmas tree. In my head, all I could hear was “I want my cha-chas!” and “Not on Christmas! Not on Christmas!”

That’s where Sleigh Ride came from. In my version, it’s cha-cha boots. Black ones. And yes, the tree comes down. 🎄

But first, Santa’s getting up there. As Christmas Eve wears on, he starts feeling lousy. His reindeer are sick, too, and he’s got one city left on his list.

Desert Hot Springs.

You know the place. All the bad men and boys live on the other side of the tracks. So Santa hands the job to the Grinch, the Grinch takes the Rolls, and suddenly Christmas is a getaway job. Those boys are getting their goddamn presents. 🎅🎁

So, in a roundabout way, thank you. I’ve had one hell of a good time with what came next.

And to all you fucking Old Nicks out there, I see you. You little devils can wear a mask for a while. Sooner or later, it slips. And out here, the truth is often stranger than anything I could write.

I’m ready to leave that part of the story behind. In one week, on November 14, I get to marry Stevie, the man I’ve dreamed about for 60 years.

And who would’ve THUNK IT? All those years ago, I was the development officer at the San Diego LGBT Center, raising money for NO/ON8 campaign. I did my small part because I believed we deserved the right to marry the people we love. Now I get to stand beside Stevie and say “I do.” That little bit of work I did all those years ago means more to me today than I could’ve imagined back then.

That same energy applies here. We may work so damn hard and still wonder if the little things we do make any difference. However I’ve lived long enough to see what can come from doing one small thing with great love. Funny how those little things have a way of working out somewhere down the dirty road. 🌵

I’m grateful. I’m blessed. And to everybody I’ve crossed paths with on these dirty desert roads, good, bad, or indifferent, thank you. I wish you well. DillonWHess

[Dillon Hess Desert Dad @DillonWHess]

DILLON’S DIRTY 🌵 ROAD DIARIES

I’ve learned a thing or two along the way through this hot, desolate desert town out West over the decades.

One, @thepuphades took some outstanding pictures of me and a few friends. Some of the best pictures I think I’ve ever had.

Two, I know very little about very little. But I know how to share my own experience openly and honestly. What you think of me is your business.

I’ve learned something down this dirty road. It’s never been about me. It’s about us. I can only tell you what happened to me and let you make up your own damn mind.

About 25 years ago, I had an experience in a state of consciousness far outside anything I was used to. I came to understand it through what people call the Akashic Records. In that spiritual tradition, the records are described as an energetic archive of the soul’s past, present, and future possibilities.

Why would I say something like that out loud? Because it happened to me, and I still think about it 25 years later. I tell people all the time, “Don’t believe me just because I say it.” Look into it for yourself if you’re curious. As far as I’m concerned, it’s an inside job.

If you want to explore it

1.Get quiet. Sit somewhere you can settle in. Breathe slowly and give yourself a few minutes to let the running commentary in your head quiet down.
2.Ask one honest question. Something like, “What’s the best next step I can take?” Ask it and give yourself room to sit with it.
https://t.co/ll8dn6m67P with a prayer or intention. Use words that feel sincere to you. You might simply say, “I’m open to whatever I need to understand right now.”
https://t.co/ypN2NGGnXn attention to what comes up. It might be an image, a symbol, a feeling, or a thought that comes through with unusual clarity. Give yourself time before deciding what it means.
5.Close with gratitude. Say thank you if that feels right. Take a breath, feel your feet on the floor, and come back to the room.

People who practice this sometimes describe a feeling of being deeply known, loved, and understood. What stayed with me was how gentle it felt. There was room to look at myself honestly without tearing myself apart.

I don’t take a man’s word just because he says it. And you shouldn’t either in my humble opinion. You’ll know me by my actions, just like I’ll know you by yours. There’s more going on and most of us are aware. At least that’s my interpretation.

See you down the dirty road. 🌵

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[Dillon Hess Desert Dad @DillonWHess]

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[Dillon Hess Desert Dad @DillonWHess]

DILLONS DIRTY MY ROAD DIARIES

Patrick,

And here we go again. @pbpicks1 @TrentonDucati @ducatistudios You recently wrote that before The Drifters became a 14-episode series for Ducati Studios, it began as a story you created in 2025 about a cowboy hitchhiking through the California desert.

That’s the part I’m asking you to correct. I came up with that story and brought it to you as The Hitchhiker. I pitched you two ideas, Blue-Collar Crime and The Hitchhiker. You passed on the first and wanted to pursue the second.

We spent months developing it together. You made real contributions, and I’ve always given you credit for them. I’m asking you to do the same for me. Jack and David can speak for themselves. Their private texts will stay private.

I withdrew my cease-and-desist because I wanted to put the dispute behind us. When Ducati Studios offered an olive branch, I took it seriously. Two weeks later, when you raised a defamation claim, I went back to my attorney and gave him the relevant documents.

I respect the man who runs Ducati Studios. I’ve known him for years, and I think he’s a good man. Should things have been handled differently? You bet. I gave him my word, and I’ve kept it.

Shortly after Pineapple Support was in town, I raised my concerns with him. He told me you weren’t doing what I’d described, so I showed him the messages I had, including ones you sent to friends of mine and ones asking people not to film with me. I thought that conversation had put an end to it. It did, for a New York minute.

People talk, Patrick. Some of the people you reached out to told me what was said and showed me the texts. I couldn’t imagine doing that to you. If I’d told people not to work with you and then publicly claimed an idea you brought to me, what would you have done?

I valued our friendship. Even after things went bad between us, I still gave you credit for the work you did. The day after Christmas, while you were on holiday, you cut me out. From where I stood, that happened because I refused to go along with your version of how the project began. That’s how we ended up in this fucking mess that you created.

I don’t work for Ducati Studios. If someone representing my studio sent messages like the ones I saw, I’d take it seriously. When you represent a studio, your conduct sets the tone for how people expect to be treated, and the fallout can damage the reputation of the entire studio.

The AVN Awards are coming up in January, and I want the record straight before then. Stop discouraging people from working with me and correct your public account. I originated The Hitchhiker. We developed it together before it became The Drifters. If you keep claiming the original idea as solely yours, I’ll keep speaking up about my role. I have the records to back up what I’m saying.

Take it from an old firefighter. This thing doesn’t need to turn into a five-alarm fire, but you can bet I’m ready. You can start putting it out with one public correction that gives us both credit for the work we actually did. If you keep repeating your version of how the project began, I’ll keep correcting the record.

The ball’s in your court, Daddy Patrick, and it always has been. I sit and ponder how hard it must be being you. Wow you’ve received everything you wanted and more. Still, you’re not happy you want more credit for the idea I brought you and to rip me down in the process. It doesn’t, it makes me stronger.

And honestly, I don’t want to see you have a third meltdown at the gym. People are watching your behavior it keeps getting you into trouble and into alota hot water you and Ducati Studios don’t need. The awards are just around the corner. I wish you the best, and I hope you receive everything you deserve.

Giddyup and grow up, cowboy. Be the daddy you pretend to be. For Pete’s fucking sake. Picture a year ago of @DrakeNorthXXX @pbpicks1

[Dillon Hess Desert Dad @DillonWHess]

@psdaddyb Yes

[Dillon Hess Desert Dad @DillonWHess]

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[Dillon Hess Desert Dad @DillonWHess]

DILLON’S DIRTY 🌵 ROAD DIARIES

’Twas the night before Christmas,

@Santa_Bear
@DukeHightowerX @2daddiesdickin1 @MrpeachLA @TheRobbieCaruso @ReadyButtram
@RealBionicRod
@Tyson_SharpXXX

and all through the house, not a creature was stirring. Not even a goddamn fucking mouse.

Live out here in the desert long enough and you start to notice patterns. You learn which roads wash out after a hard rain and which men keep telling the same story with a different name in it.

I’ve always had an eye for patterns. That’s a gift I was born with. What I do with it is my responsibility. Every day, I try to be a better man than I was yesterday. After decades of doing that work, I have a kind of freedom I never thought possible.

I’m mostly retired, I have more than I ever imagined, and I can finally let a few things go by without giving a damn. As for being liked? Honey, I’m here to be remembered. A name is a funny thing. It’s a handful of letters, each one a little symbol.

Put them together and suddenly somebody’s got a whole picture of you in their head. You can dress those letters up on TikTok with fancy fonts and enough sparkle to blind Santa on his way into Desert Hot Springs. I like a little decoration myself. Hell, I put a cactus in the title.

Some people know me as Jimmie. Some know me as Dillon. What I care about is what comes to mind when you hear either one. Maybe I made you laugh when you needed it. Maybe I showed up when I said I would. Maybe all you remember is that I’ve got pretty feet.

Well, honey, I did say I wanted to be remembered. 😉🌵 whether you realize that or not you do and that’s my point. We all have spiritual names too. Do you know what yours is? I know what mine is with a greater understanding of what my primary and secondary missions are here on this beautiful planet. We share called earth.

So Fuck Mike and the horse he rode in on. He’s been a very very, very, naughty daddy-boy this year, and Santa’s got his number. The Akashic Records have the whole damn story. Santa just bookmarked the good parts. 🎅😉

He could be Mike today, Stevie tomorrow, or Patrick, Max, or Jerry by the weekend. Change the name all you want. I’ve been down these dirty roads long enough to recognize the same old energy coming around the bend. lol

We’re all connected one way or another. That’s a fact of life, if you ask me. What we put out there keeps traveling long after we’ve forgotten who was around to see it. And sometimes, just when you think you’ve left it in the dust, there it is in your rearview mirror again.

Anyway, the horse can stay. He was just giving Mike a goddamn fucking ride. 🐴🌵

😈👿🌵😈👿🌵😈👿🌵😈👿🌵😈👿
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[Dillon Hess Desert Dad @DillonWHess]

DILLON’S DIRTY 🌵 ROAD DIARIES

Drifter-@LukasColby the underdog episode 9. The fun we have shared. It started at Snow Creek Road and then ended in Whitewater.

Has a funny rhythm and rhyme to it. And it should. It’s my original concept.

I don’t have to lie, cheat, or steal to create something. I’ve got ideas of my own, and I know how much work it takes to turn one into something worth watching.

So when a man looks me in the eye and tells me the thing I created and we spent months building together was his idea all along, I’m going to have something to say about it.

And shame on any Daddy who thinks getting away with something once makes it a fucking business model. I told you straight up that the way this was going to go down. And it would make both of us look bad professionally.

Don’t believe me. I can tell you he does now. You didn’t give a rat’s ass. You wanted what you wanted, come hell or high water and you wanted it, right goddamn now. Like some spoiled rotten little child. There’s a certain kind of man who thinks the horizon is a rug he can keep sweeping his dirt under.

I met one of those men a while back on a stretch of two-lane blacktop that felt like it led straight to nowhere. He had a smile that came a little too quick and a way of lying to your face like he was doing you a favor by letting you listen.

He’d break somebody’s trust, then look up at the sky like, “See? No lightning bolts. I must be doing great.” The Higher Creator works in mileage. Lightning bolts are amateur hour. Every time you cheat somebody, another mile gets logged on a very quiet, very patient ledger.

The universe keeps its own time, Daddy. It can take the scenic route. I tried to tell him. The sun was going down, and our shadows stretched clear across the blacktop. I said, “Friend, you’re running out of road. Pull over long enough to look at what you’re doing. You’ve still got time to make it right.”

I meant it when I called him friend. That’s the part that still gets me. I’ve got my own miles on that ledger. I know what it costs to look somebody in the eye and say, “I did that. I owe you better.” I would’ve listened if he’d said it to me.

So I’ll tell my part of the story, put my name on the work I did, and get back to creating. I’ve got more stories to shoot and a whole lot of desert left to drive.

And that dirt you swept under the horizon? Honey, the wind changes out here. 🌵 And so do I.

WHITE-COLLAR CRIME is coming soon. Put a man in a good suit and a silk tie, and suddenly everybody assumes he’s above the dirty work. I want to tell stories about the men who know exactly how to use that. The kind who can screw a guy over before lunch and still get him to pick up the check.

Then next year comes STUDIO ZERO. I’m taking this one up to a mansion in Lake Arrowhead and filling it with some of the greediest cocksuckers this side of the Mississippi. Everybody wants a piece of the show. Wait till they see what they’re willing to trade for it.
See you down dirty old Snow Creek Road, where the cold will burn you and the sun will thaw you right back out. 😉🌵

Why?

This Desert Dillon Daddy can be kind, caring, playful, and mischievous as fuck. But please don’t mistake my kindness for weakness. I don’t play well with close-minded sidewinders or bad-tempered rattlesnakes. I can get a little ornery myself, and if you push your luck, I’ll give you a boot-kicking you won’t forget. And remember, I’ve got pretty feet. 😉🌵

If you’re gonna be little son of a bitch. Well then you’re going to be treated like one.

😈👿🌵😈👿🌵😈👿🌵😈👿🌵😈👿
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[Dillon Hess Desert Dad @DillonWHess]

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DILLON’S DIRTY 🍩 SUNDAY FUNDAY ROAD DIARIES 🌵

Now, who saved me a donut? 🍩 at what time was it saved? Someone Knows goddamnit-@TyEwingXXX
@EvanSterlingXXX
@DannyRubinoXXX
@DrakeNorthXXX

Time is a funny thing. It doesn’t work the way I was taught it did. Five minutes waiting on the donut delivery boy can feel like half an hour. He finally shows up, everybody gets to laughing, and there goes the whole damn afternoon. 😉

At 64, I swear the years go by faster. When I was a kid, a summer felt like a whole lifetime. Everything was new. These days, I can lose track of which week something happened, but give me one good Sunday with the boys and I’ll remember who was there and what had us laughing.

Even Einstein had something to say about time. In physics, speed and gravity can affect how much time passes. Around here, I just know the clock can say we’ve got another hour and I’ll still be wondering where the hell the last three went.

So I say, as long as you’re above ground, enjoy what you may of it. The good, the bad, and everything in between. Some days all I can say is, “Goddamn, I’m glad I’m still here.” And I mean it.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, works out on my timeline. I do the best I may, one day at a time. I still make mistakes. When I do, I own them, make things right where I can, and do my damnedest to do better the next time around.

😈👿🌵😈👿🌵😈👿🌵😈👿🌵😈👿
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Sunday Funday with the donut delivery boy.

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[Dillon Hess Desert Dad @DillonWHess]

DILLON’S DIRTY 🌵 ROAD DIARIES

Snow Creek Road and I have history. I’m 64 now, and I’ve been coming to this desert for 60 years.

My family had a place up on Snow Creek Road. It was the first street when you pulled off Highway 111, and it took you into a little mountain community tucked into the low desert. It’s still one of the most spiritual places I’ve ever been. I’ve watched a lot of California change in those 60 years, and plenty of it changed right here in front of me.

As for the whole mess over The Drifters, I wouldn’t be surprised if it wins at the AVN Awards this January. I can just picture everybody getting called up onstage except one person.

The goddamn creator, you funny bitches. 😉

I’m over it now. Funny enough, that mess is what got me back out on these dirty desert roads to start from scratch. I rewrote the whole thing and called it The Drifter. Singular. I planned eight episodes and threw in a ninth just to make it special. You know I have pretty feet, you fuckers.

Then came my take on Gilligan’s Island. We’ve wrapped episode four of eight. The whole damn crew parties like it’s 1999, and by morning everybody’s hungover except the Skipper. He’s still convinced they’re stranded on an island. Meanwhile, they’re smack in the middle of the goddamn desert. Try explaining that to a man who keeps looking for the tide. 🌵🏝️

And to close out the year, there’s Sleigh Ride. That one started with a text I read in bed on December 26, 2025. I was feeling like hell, and by then I was sick over the whole damn thing with a man who calls himself a daddy. The text went something like this.

> “You’re not breaking up our friendship on Christmas on a text while I’m on holiday.”

And I started laughing. All I could see was Divine in John Waters’ Female Trouble, throwing a fit over her cha-cha heels and bringing down the Christmas tree. In my head, all I could hear was “I want my cha-chas!” and “Not on Christmas! Not on Christmas!”

That’s where Sleigh Ride came from. In my version, it’s cha-cha boots. Black ones. And yes, the tree comes down. 🎄

But first, Santa’s getting up there. As Christmas Eve wears on, he starts feeling lousy. His reindeer are sick, too, and he’s got one city left on his list.

Desert Hot Springs.

You know the place. All the bad men and boys live on the other side of the tracks. So Santa hands the job to the Grinch, the Grinch takes the Rolls, and suddenly Christmas is a getaway job. Those boys are getting their goddamn presents. 🎅🎁

So, in a roundabout way, thank you. I’ve had one hell of a good time with what came next.

And to all you fucking Old Nicks out there, I see you. You little devils can wear a mask for a while. Sooner or later, it slips. And out here, the truth is often stranger than anything I could write.

I’m ready to leave that part of the story behind. In one week, on November 14, I get to marry Stevie, the man I’ve dreamed about for 60 years.

And who would’ve THUNK IT? All those years ago, I was the development officer at the San Diego LGBT Center, raising money for NO/ON8 campaign. I did my small part because I believed we deserved the right to marry the people we love. Now I get to stand beside Stevie and say “I do.” That little bit of work I did all those years ago means more to me today than I could’ve imagined back then.

That same energy applies here. We may work so damn hard and still wonder if the little things we do make any difference. However I’ve lived long enough to see what can come from doing one small thing with great love. Funny how those little things have a way of working out somewhere down the dirty road. 🌵

I’m grateful. I’m blessed. And to everybody I’ve crossed paths with on these dirty desert roads, good, bad, or indifferent, thank you.

Goddamn right. I wish you well-@Santa_Bear
@DukeHightowerX @2daddiesdickin1 @MrpeachLA @TheRobbieCaruso @ReadyButtram
@RealBionicRod
@Tyson_SharpXXX