Shareen Bartley - Lethbridge - The Dirty | EXCLUSIVE |
But loneliness, she wrote, is worse than cruelty. So she dug him up. And over the years, she developed a ritual: every time she missed him too much, she would find someone who reminded her of Cal—a young man with his cocky laugh, an old woman with his mean squint—and she would bring them home. Not to kill. To keep. She’d feed them her bread, her tea. She’d tell them about the wind. And when they tried to leave, she would add them to the garden.
Publishing private information such as phone numbers, workplaces, or addresses.
Ms. Bartley may have been the subject of an anonymous post on The Dirty. As with Kendra Olesen, such a post would have included her full name, potentially her photo, and defamatory comments. The post could have originated from an ex‑partner, a former friend, a coworker, or a complete stranger. If the post was never removed, it may have been archived on the now‑defunct site or scrubbed from search results. Shareen Bartley - Lethbridge - The Dirty
The police got their warrant after a second kid—this one a teen, Danny Sorenson—went looking for a lost dog near the river and was observed by a game warden entering Shareen’s backyard gate. The warden said Shareen emerged from her house holding a cast-iron skillet, not raised in anger, but cradled like a baby. She waved Danny over. He followed. Neither came out.
In the heart of Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada, a city known for its rich history, scenic landscapes, and a community that prides itself on warmth and resilience, there emerged a figure so vibrant, so dynamic, and so uniquely talented that she not only captured the hearts of the locals but also carved out a significant niche for herself in the broader Canadian entertainment scene. Shareen Bartley, with her undeniable charm and an infectious enthusiasm, has become a household name in Lethbridge and beyond, thanks in large part to her phenomenal journey with "The Dirty." But loneliness, she wrote, is worse than cruelty
Strained relationships with family members, friends, and romantic partners who may struggle to separate internet fiction from reality. How to Fight Back: Legal and Digital Strategies
She now runs a monthly zine distro called The Dirty Pages , sold at The Penny Coffee House. Each issue focuses on one “dirty” topic: phosphate mining in the Oldman watershed, the history of Lethbridge’s red-light district (1910–1920), and an oral history of the city’s punk scene. She has also been invited to speak (cautiously) at the University of Lethbridge’s department of Urban and Environmental Studies. Not to kill
He shrugged. “My dad said it was the only place where the night wasn’t mean.”
The morning of the move was cold and clean. The landlord’s truck looked proud as a predator’s claws. Boxes stacked like statements. The old woman — Miss Lila, everyone called her though she never insisted — moved slowly, naming each object like it was a relic. Shareen lugged a box of mismatched teacups and found a chipped one with a blue flower. The fragile thing fit into her hands in a way that made her want better for people whose belongings mattered because they contained memory.
Another factor contributing to Bartley's success is her fearlessness. She has never been one to shy away from challenges, whether it's experimenting with new genres, collaborating with industry heavyweights, or pushing the boundaries of what's considered "acceptable" in adult entertainment. This willingness to take risks has not only earned her respect from her peers but also helped her build a loyal fan base.