The thing about writing is nothing comes for 20 or so minutes, you gotta squeeze out, like the last remaining drops from an orange. All of a sudden everything starts to flow out in a rush, so fast that you better be able to move your stupid pen fast enough to capture it all. You either get it all or its gone forever. I was thinking one night when I woke up to piss at 4am, everything I would wanna write about just started splooging outta my head and I had no way to get it down. No paper, no pen, and no recording device, nothing just my dick in my hand. All the stuff that should be here isn't. I couldn't remember a thing even if I banged my head against the wall. A tragedy in itself. I'll prolly never get it back. It was perfect.
I'm trying to register for school, but I fucked up so many times before, I can only take 7 units they say. It's just not for me I guess. I don't wanna give them the satisfaction of keeping me down. I'm taking it to the dean. No ordinary student would do this, only one who is expected to thrive would. They had better see that. If not they are the rotten scum of the modern day failing education system. Most would give up, take the 7 units and be raped in the face by their stupid fucking restrictions. Not me, I like the fight. They can't possibly keep me down. It just isn't right.
Fuck them if they choose not to see it my way, the right way. If they don't I won't go. My way or Fuck You. I'm an American, words can unturn any screw here. Hear me and hear me well, FUck your own Mother Deans. Fuck her till she's so full of cum that she pops. Make her your cum bucket. For being fucked in the face by them these past 5 years I deserve some sort of compensation! Something to show for it, not jsut a pile of receipts and paper. I want results for fuck sake. 22 dollars an our I'll get when i'm through with my training, a pro in my field, soon to be master. You'll be begging that I look at your pile of shit car. Most likely I'll say fuck you until your price is right.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Virtual ID cards? Fuck the Government
Just got an email from the Demand Progress team goes a little somethign like this:
Have you heard? The US government is developing virtual ID cards for Internet users -- and they could pose a severe threat to our privacy!
The proposal is called the "National Strategy for Trusted Identities in Cyberspace” and the draft indicates that we'd be forced to use them for any online transactions with the government, and for online interactions with businesses that choose to use them.
It's a draft proposal, so we still have a chance to convince government officials to re-write it so that it respects our privacy rights: Will you click here to send them a message?
If the system is fully implemented you'll have one centralized online ID, making it even easier to track your online activity: Officials need to make sure any proposal maintains Americans' rights to privacy and anonymity.
The government shouldn't be forcing Americans to use Internet ID cards. Please click here, and stand up for Internet privacy before it's too late.
Thanks for your support.
-- The Demand Progress team
Have you heard? The US government is developing virtual ID cards for Internet users -- and they could pose a severe threat to our privacy!
The proposal is called the "National Strategy for Trusted Identities in Cyberspace” and the draft indicates that we'd be forced to use them for any online transactions with the government, and for online interactions with businesses that choose to use them.
It's a draft proposal, so we still have a chance to convince government officials to re-write it so that it respects our privacy rights: Will you click here to send them a message?
If the system is fully implemented you'll have one centralized online ID, making it even easier to track your online activity: Officials need to make sure any proposal maintains Americans' rights to privacy and anonymity.
The government shouldn't be forcing Americans to use Internet ID cards. Please click here, and stand up for Internet privacy before it's too late.
Thanks for your support.
-- The Demand Progress team
Saturday, January 15, 2011
July 4th 2008, Busted knuckle and a long walk to HOAG hospital
July 4th 2008 was awsome. My friend Octavio has an older brother that used to live on 30 something street in costa mesa, where they block off the street so everyone could have a street fair pretty much. His brother was awsome, very welcoming and kept the drinks flowing. Music Raged, Chicks Raged, the entire surrounding area for blocks, Fucking raged. Sometime during the night my good friend Nick did not like how some skin head pushed a girl who was tryin to walk past, so he stopped and said something to the guy. The guy was tall as fuck and did not look happy. Nick had to literally look up at the guy to see his face. Drunk Nick is relentless and will not listen to anybody, because Drunk Nick is never wrong, to Drunk Nick. He would not let this go so he was headbutted by the large skin head. Just above Nicks nose had a cut and was bleeding pretty bad. We went back to get Octi so we could kick his ass. This is all I can remember, I blacked out. I remember blips of running and cops chasing us and other people chasing us. I have no idea how we got outta that alive. When I came to the skin that was suppsoed to be covering my right ring finger knuckle was flapping around. I must have punched some glass or something. I was bleeding Profusely. Octi and Nick were past out inside at Octs Brothers house. I needed medical attention. I remember some people saw me and were gonna give me a ride, but for what ever reason I started running as fast as I could away from them. All along leaving a trail of blood all over the neighbor hood. You could literally follow my every move because of it. First it led to the beach, I probably wanted to clean it out. I can only cringe at how bad this would hurt. Maybe thats how I came to, I really don't know. Anyways, I walked from 30 something street, all the way to HOAG hospital. I took about an hour or 2, it's really hard to say. I was bleeding bad. My shoes were covered in blood along with the sidewalk. The puddle that was there next to the stop light mustv been huge. Theres a large hill you have to walk up and that nearly made me black out again because I was so light headed. I ended up meeting some kids that were outside their apartment that offered me a joint. I stopped and smoke with them for a little bit and asked them where the hospital was. I asked if they had any super glue, so I could glue this shit shut, but they were mortified and told me to continue on to the hospital. The joint made the fainting feeling go completely away, it set me straight. They were really nice kids they showed me where the hospital was. I was so fucked up. I checked in so they could sew me up. In the morning the fucking place wouldn't let me leave because I was blowing a .009 into the breathalizer they had. I didn't drive to the hospital, so it shouldn't have fucking mattered. I had to call my friend vanessa. Her sister drove her down so they could say they were giving me a ride home. They really drove me to my car. All this time my phone lost all the contacts in it, so i was extremely limited in who I could call. I went swimming earlier with my phone in my pocket. I'm really lucky the thing worked in the first place. I really wish I knew what happend, I don't think I ever will. I had to have punched glass, it's the only explanation.
A strange, long, intense and somewhat satisfying story
The morning after "fun with whiskey", the sun poked through the trees behind the lloyds house and aimed straight for my eyes. "Jesus Fuck, the sun chose me" I thought, as I closed my eyes. My vision was gone, all I could see was a red hue, because of that God awful burning ball of fire that keeps us all at a safe and comfortable tempurature. We ddecided to repeat the night before but at 9 in the morning. Me and Katie went to a distant Rite Aid in Orange to get more whiskey. Me and Katie walked inside--Again she had her big ass purse ready for anything--We put two bottles of booze in and walked out like the two respectable citizens that we were. In the clerks eyes we were two unsatisfied customers who couldn't find what they wanted throughout the stores stock, to us.... we were champions. Winners of the world. I really don't remember what happend, but just know it did and we were fucking wasted.
That Halloween was when the "REAL" fun happend. My friend Sharon always threw halloween, christmas, and birthday parties that went off. Tons of people getting hammered in her backyard, we had local Anaheim bands playing. This was a must, within our friends of musicians it was impossible for this to happen without 3 or 4 bands playing. First I was drinking with very good company at Sharons. After it got too messy and a fight broke out, Sharon kicked everyone out. Our friend Dahn H said we could all go to his garage and party there. I love Dahns garage. On the Couch tour of 06 his spot was a place I was very often. It was very welcoming although it had roachs and rats scampering sipping up beer because by this time they were all alcoholics. He lived by Juarez park which at this time, I called my home. At Dahns we had plenty of beer, but for assholes like me, this is not enough. I mentioned if someone could drive me to CVS I would have this situation handled. Pun Definately intended. For some reason I decide to go to the neighboring Stater Bros. I think CVS was closed for whatever reason, So Stater Bros it was. They have a ridiculous turnstyle thing that you see at Knotts Berry Farm before you go on rides acompanying the metal barriers that surrounded the exit to detor stealing. This does not stop a man who knows and needs what he wants. The only way outa there is to hop the Metal barrier to make a clean getaway. It kind of causes a scene, but no scene is too much for me as long as I have a get away car, on, gassed and ready to move. I took a bottle of black velvet and head towards the diaper aisle because I really had to take a piss. I started urinating all over the bags ful of diapers, I really should have opend one up, but I was too drunk. It seemed like a very reasonable thing to do. "If you are to pee, pee where it is expected" I thought. Obviously this causes a scene and get caught up in a tangle of Stater Bros employees and their security guard. All of them surrounded me as I desperately try to make an escape between to workers. This did not happen. I was defeated. I tried spitting on one of them, all this did was make them push me around. I then tried flailing my arms in all directions trying to break free of this blur of human animals. I'm glad they didn't call the cops because this would have ended up much much worse. I woulda caught my first DIP and probably a Indescent Exposure Charge. They pushed me out of the store (without My God damn whiskey). They told me to never come back and if I did they would call the cops on me. I coulda sworn they kept my ID so the next day I went back to get it. The manager looked at me like I was some sort of freak and yelled "What the fuck is wrong with you? We told you to never come back, SCRAM!" I explained that I need my ID back, (I was trying to get a job at Big 5 as an Assistant Manager) I needed the ID so they could do a backround check and whatnot. He told me they gave me back my ID and to get the fuck out. I swore they were liars and that the devil would rape them in the ass when ever he wasn't busy fucking others in the ass. I left very bitterly and needed a god damn drink. I later found my ID in Sharons car, I guess that night I slept in her car and my ID fell out of my pocket into her passenger door pocket. Big ass Woops.
So I said fuck it and Katie drove me to Sharons (where I lived when I could, her boyfriend at the time hated my guts, so I really couldn't stay there often. Katie walked home because I had already started drinking again. I didn't drink and drive at this point in my life, otherwise I would have gladly drivin her home. Driving drunk became my favorite sport later on. There is little to be proud of as I write this down on paper. I don't like failing, and DON'T TELL ME NO! Stupity, 110 proof pure grade A Stupidity. I ended getting the boot at Sharons and went to live under the great "Light Bright" in the sky. If you grew up in the 80's you'll know what im talking about. Juarez was officially home and kicked off the Couch tour of 06 for me and Arnie. I can still feel the woodchips that I slept on sometimes in the playground of the park whenever we were drunk enough and the night had done us in. It reminded me of hamster bedding. I kinda felt like a hamster or mouse that could come and go as I pleased. I personally prefered one of the couches in Dahns garage, but I'm sure he wasn't too keen on keeping to raging alcoholics in his garage every day. We gave him space most of the time, but when things got bad he was always there so we could get some reasonable rest.
What made my brief time being homeless was my opportunity to try, love and indulge into a lot of cocain. My first taste was enough to claim it my second true love, my first being pot of course. Moving alcohol to a lowly, but respectable role as number 3. I liked the ideas that the hippies had, with togetherness love and all that bullshit. The way they partied and "enlightend" themselves as they each played Dr. to each other with tabs of LSD. I loved the forbidden dimension that you are able to tap into and learn from. The earths energy and spirits were all around me when I tapped in, and thats the way I liked it. I could see myself as two seperate entities and when I was on the drug, would step outside my self and talk to my consciousness as if it were another being. I loved it. The aztec patterns that materialize out of the ceiling popcorn and the breathing walls. Punks in my opinion are hippylike folk that have had enough and are fucking pissed. The world keeps getting worse and worse, the worse it gets, the more fucked up I'd like to get. Vegans on the other hand piss me off. It's true, all your doing is eating what animals should be. If you really give a shit, bomb the slaughter houses or expose them. Not eating meat to make yourself feel better is fucking retarted. These animals are now dieing in vain! why let it go to waste. They aren't gonna stop, I'm not gonna let it sit there and rot. Alot of the slaughter house owners must of been touched in deyooh down deyooh pwaces where dey go potty by their rotten uncle Charlie. Unless your burning the slaughterhouses down, you aren't accomplishing shit, besides looking like ungrateful fucking pigeon toed idiots. And don't get down on me for eating meat. I get a choice just like you do, FUCK YOU. Shut the fuck up already. I'v had enough vegans call me an asshole and well ready for more. Good keep eating rabbit food fucker. Don't play that guilt game on me, I'll tear your life to pieces in a few seconds. Bottom line, do something, don't just be a self righteous, ignorant asshole. I know what goes on in slaughter houses and how cows and calves are mistreated. Getting tasered 8 or 9 times then dropped to the floor head first and then picked up and does it again. Some dude exposed them to the world and now a lot of them have been shut down. What the fuck have you done vegan?
None of this shit gets reported on anymore on the news, only when a fucking stupid panda has a cub at the zoo, will the news give a shit. If you put a male bear next to a female bear, what the fuck do you expect to happen? They are gonna fuck and have a cub. Fucking rocket science folks. If I gave a shit about how slaughter houses treated animals, I'd prolly do something. Since I don't I won't. As you can see I can't stand vegan vegitarian fucks who expect everyone to accomodate for their self righteous new found diet. Make your own fucking food if your gonna be an asshole, fuck face. Thanks for putting the blame on everyone else. I have gastroparesis and not expecting everwhere to accomodate for my defect. I have to make my own food sometimes that I can handle. It sucks ass, but thats life. Do I expect a gastroparesis menu at mcdonalds? Fuck no. No ones even heard of the shit I have. Just know it fucking hurts and puts a big damper on my drinking intake. I have since stopped drinking, but who knows what life will throw at me. Times always change. If I have to hear "Animal Murderer" mumbled under another fuckign breathe, I'll rip you god damn jaw off and force feed you chicken. Ya I'll jam it straight down your fucking throat. Hopefully you can hold your breath a really long time. I'll eat what I want, when I want, however the fuck I want. I am an American. I can be an idiot and still be right. Thats what being an American is all about. No one can tell you NO. If I get really fat and die from a heartattack, you'll at least know, I was American. You vegans are the closest thing to commys that I'd ever seen, so please shut the fuck up and eat KFC.
At one point in time, I spent my life going to Westwood college and working at petco. I was taking graphic design and was not very well liked by my peers, but was needed for reasons I'll explain in just a bit. I had my aquaintences you could say. My classmates didn't particularly like me because I'd never go to class, but do well on projects and tests. The teacher regularly used my work as an example, either of what to do or what not to do. I didn't really care what they thought. I either made the teachers objectives stand out in my work or would ignore them completely. It just depended on how stoned I was when I did the project. I met a handful of good people at school, but only one is still kinda in my life. Kinda out on the outer rim, an overseerer, making sure I don't kill myself in my stupidty. She'd come to thanksgiving dinners for a while or christmas dinners, but I had a severe lack of pussy when hanging with her.
We first met in the halls of Westwood passing each other she shouted "Stoner!". My eyes doubled in size only more displaying the red glow that must have been radiating from my face. I replied "what's up?" we bull shitted for a few minutes and parted ways/ I still remember what shirt she was wearing, it was one of the Mario Bros mushroom shirts and was black in color. I remember thinking what a cute disney princess looking girl. I got some lunch with my friend at the time Beasley and got super stoned. We drove around a few hours knowing we had class but had much better things to do. It was art history. who the fuck cares. I like Dali thats all that matters. The others need to take more acid before they attempt anymore. Had nothing to do with graphic design. So I took no part in it. When I went back to class I ended up seeing that girl again. She asked if I had anymore weed. At this time I was the man to see if your looking for that kinda thing. I had just picked up a zip and had more than enough to share. She asked if she could get a ride home. I finally found out her name. It was Sharon. I had a Dodge Dakota then and gave her a ride home as well as smoke her out. I installed a cool air intake on it so it was a bit louder than your average Dakota. It fuckign took off too, got very good low end on that truck. 4.7 liters of justice. It soudned like a beast from the depths. She really didn't live too far, I mean a 20 minutes walk was all it was, but I'm sure she just wanted to get stoned. She was prolly just as lazy as I was, I couldn't blame her. She bought a gram or so and went inside her house all chinese eyes and with a disney grin on her face. The door closed behind her and I drove away.
Another kid I met at Westwood was named Patrick. He was from the east coast and wanted to come to California to study Graphic design. He was in all my classes. He just had this look on his face that he was just goooone. He'd talk like a young Tommy Chong "Duuuuude Jooohn What's uuup Maaaannnn". It was somewhat hilarious. He bought alot of weed off my throughout the time I spent at Westwood (3 months I think.) He introduced me to this other kid Kyle. He was Ginger in complexion with orange hair. A very tall lepracaun without a beard. Very recognizable. He was a very cool dude. I still run into him from time to time.
I also went to a few party's thrown by Westwood kids and met a kid Gershawn. He was black and fucking hilarious, I enjoyed his company always. He brought some of the hood with him, I loved that and respected him for it. He had a very welcoming way about him, it made it easy to come up to him to see what was going on. Then there was this other kid Kasey who literally thought his own shit did not stink. Right off the bat. He was from San Diego and had an ego the size of a fucking blimp. I have no Idea where he got it from either. Everyone thought he was an asshole. The girls liked him until they fucked him. They all must have seen something or unlocked the puzzle bercause after that, theyd give him the silent treatment and talk shit on him after class. He was in all my classes as well and was a fucking leech. I'd give him ideas for his projects because God forbid this fucking kid to do anything himself. Fuck, prolly to dumb to do it himself.
After a while even after I dropped out, I kept my contact with Patrick. We would chill toke herb, do lots of coke, and watch Beavis and Butthead. He also had a very nice PRS which he couldn't play for shit, but he thought he was good, and we let him. He had his downfalls, but you really gotta give him credit he did the best he could, and I liked that. He smoked Black tar in the bathroom, and would ask us if we wanted any then retracked the statement and say I don't want to get you into this. I wanted nothing to do with that shit then so I'd always say I'm good.
Anyways one night my friend Teh Zach, Arnie and his girlfriend were hanging out there --by this time we called Patrick "P-trick"-- and offered me and zach some acid. We both took it. It was weak but it still affected me, so I stayed up all fucking night under a cover wishing I was back to normal. Zach was a big guy and I don't think it did anything to him because he passed out soon after. I wanted to take the tab outta his mouth and take it, but I'm sure he swalloed it. It wasnt there. I checked. Everyone was a sleep, cept arnie and his girlfriend. They were fucking on the porch all night. I was contemplating going out the door, but the door seemed so far away and hard to use. I was under the covers thinking I was hearing demons and death zooming in. I was whispering to myself "Not now, why me, holy fuck!" Arnie then wanders in wondering what the fuck I'm doing and scares the shit outta me. I think he's death coming at me. I try for the door, shit oh shit it's locked. I'm locked in. I again refer to myself as 2 different people. I just wanted to be straight, out of the dark and not alone. All of those things were impossible. I would have simply unlocked the door but I wasn't right. Arnie went back outside detered by my behavior and they went at it again outside. I was like this for several hours and demanded to leave when everyone was up. It seemed like an eternity and it was my worst experience taking acid.
Patrick told me and Arnie about these pills called Methodone. I had no idea they were for heroin addicts who are trying to kick, so of course I bought some. He sold me 3 and told me to take all of them and that I'd be fine. This was when I had no tolerence for it and had no idea what I was getting into. So I did what he said and ended up Blue faced lieing down on Dahns couch barely awake, trying not to fall asleep. I had to lay down or I'd feel like I was gonna puke my brains out. My face was cold like a dead persons, heart barely beating out a pulse. I had to do a 20 sack of coke, 3 tabs of ecstacy, and Dahn gave me an eighth of shrooms that I sold him awhile ago to get me outta this state. I did the E first, did some coke and then ate the mushrooms. 45 minutes later I was on my feet running around Dahns Neighborhood alone talking to trees and bushes on his neighbors front lawn. Everything looked like an 80's music video or those outlines on the Hanging with Mr. Cooper Intro. It was awsome. I was tagging alot back then, I wouldnt tag on walls because they got covered up to quick. I tagged on the street, sidewalks and give handicapped signs a big diagnal straight line so they could have a boner. In my opinion since they drew the handicapped sign with his arms straight out in front of him instead of by his side, that they were asking for it. There are some that are still there to this day. I tagged a Triforce from "The Legend of Zelda" next to Juarez. As far as I know last time I checked its still there. I could have drawn a girl on his lap taking the dick, but that took too long in my opinion. I'm not in any gangs or anything, just a graphic artist let loose in an unsuspecting world, there for the taking, if you were able to notice it.
Cigarette filters do not tase good when burned, a warning to all, who dare to try. I accidently lit my cigarrette backwards multiple times because of my lack of sobriety.
That Halloween was when the "REAL" fun happend. My friend Sharon always threw halloween, christmas, and birthday parties that went off. Tons of people getting hammered in her backyard, we had local Anaheim bands playing. This was a must, within our friends of musicians it was impossible for this to happen without 3 or 4 bands playing. First I was drinking with very good company at Sharons. After it got too messy and a fight broke out, Sharon kicked everyone out. Our friend Dahn H said we could all go to his garage and party there. I love Dahns garage. On the Couch tour of 06 his spot was a place I was very often. It was very welcoming although it had roachs and rats scampering sipping up beer because by this time they were all alcoholics. He lived by Juarez park which at this time, I called my home. At Dahns we had plenty of beer, but for assholes like me, this is not enough. I mentioned if someone could drive me to CVS I would have this situation handled. Pun Definately intended. For some reason I decide to go to the neighboring Stater Bros. I think CVS was closed for whatever reason, So Stater Bros it was. They have a ridiculous turnstyle thing that you see at Knotts Berry Farm before you go on rides acompanying the metal barriers that surrounded the exit to detor stealing. This does not stop a man who knows and needs what he wants. The only way outa there is to hop the Metal barrier to make a clean getaway. It kind of causes a scene, but no scene is too much for me as long as I have a get away car, on, gassed and ready to move. I took a bottle of black velvet and head towards the diaper aisle because I really had to take a piss. I started urinating all over the bags ful of diapers, I really should have opend one up, but I was too drunk. It seemed like a very reasonable thing to do. "If you are to pee, pee where it is expected" I thought. Obviously this causes a scene and get caught up in a tangle of Stater Bros employees and their security guard. All of them surrounded me as I desperately try to make an escape between to workers. This did not happen. I was defeated. I tried spitting on one of them, all this did was make them push me around. I then tried flailing my arms in all directions trying to break free of this blur of human animals. I'm glad they didn't call the cops because this would have ended up much much worse. I woulda caught my first DIP and probably a Indescent Exposure Charge. They pushed me out of the store (without My God damn whiskey). They told me to never come back and if I did they would call the cops on me. I coulda sworn they kept my ID so the next day I went back to get it. The manager looked at me like I was some sort of freak and yelled "What the fuck is wrong with you? We told you to never come back, SCRAM!" I explained that I need my ID back, (I was trying to get a job at Big 5 as an Assistant Manager) I needed the ID so they could do a backround check and whatnot. He told me they gave me back my ID and to get the fuck out. I swore they were liars and that the devil would rape them in the ass when ever he wasn't busy fucking others in the ass. I left very bitterly and needed a god damn drink. I later found my ID in Sharons car, I guess that night I slept in her car and my ID fell out of my pocket into her passenger door pocket. Big ass Woops.
So I said fuck it and Katie drove me to Sharons (where I lived when I could, her boyfriend at the time hated my guts, so I really couldn't stay there often. Katie walked home because I had already started drinking again. I didn't drink and drive at this point in my life, otherwise I would have gladly drivin her home. Driving drunk became my favorite sport later on. There is little to be proud of as I write this down on paper. I don't like failing, and DON'T TELL ME NO! Stupity, 110 proof pure grade A Stupidity. I ended getting the boot at Sharons and went to live under the great "Light Bright" in the sky. If you grew up in the 80's you'll know what im talking about. Juarez was officially home and kicked off the Couch tour of 06 for me and Arnie. I can still feel the woodchips that I slept on sometimes in the playground of the park whenever we were drunk enough and the night had done us in. It reminded me of hamster bedding. I kinda felt like a hamster or mouse that could come and go as I pleased. I personally prefered one of the couches in Dahns garage, but I'm sure he wasn't too keen on keeping to raging alcoholics in his garage every day. We gave him space most of the time, but when things got bad he was always there so we could get some reasonable rest.
What made my brief time being homeless was my opportunity to try, love and indulge into a lot of cocain. My first taste was enough to claim it my second true love, my first being pot of course. Moving alcohol to a lowly, but respectable role as number 3. I liked the ideas that the hippies had, with togetherness love and all that bullshit. The way they partied and "enlightend" themselves as they each played Dr. to each other with tabs of LSD. I loved the forbidden dimension that you are able to tap into and learn from. The earths energy and spirits were all around me when I tapped in, and thats the way I liked it. I could see myself as two seperate entities and when I was on the drug, would step outside my self and talk to my consciousness as if it were another being. I loved it. The aztec patterns that materialize out of the ceiling popcorn and the breathing walls. Punks in my opinion are hippylike folk that have had enough and are fucking pissed. The world keeps getting worse and worse, the worse it gets, the more fucked up I'd like to get. Vegans on the other hand piss me off. It's true, all your doing is eating what animals should be. If you really give a shit, bomb the slaughter houses or expose them. Not eating meat to make yourself feel better is fucking retarted. These animals are now dieing in vain! why let it go to waste. They aren't gonna stop, I'm not gonna let it sit there and rot. Alot of the slaughter house owners must of been touched in deyooh down deyooh pwaces where dey go potty by their rotten uncle Charlie. Unless your burning the slaughterhouses down, you aren't accomplishing shit, besides looking like ungrateful fucking pigeon toed idiots. And don't get down on me for eating meat. I get a choice just like you do, FUCK YOU. Shut the fuck up already. I'v had enough vegans call me an asshole and well ready for more. Good keep eating rabbit food fucker. Don't play that guilt game on me, I'll tear your life to pieces in a few seconds. Bottom line, do something, don't just be a self righteous, ignorant asshole. I know what goes on in slaughter houses and how cows and calves are mistreated. Getting tasered 8 or 9 times then dropped to the floor head first and then picked up and does it again. Some dude exposed them to the world and now a lot of them have been shut down. What the fuck have you done vegan?
None of this shit gets reported on anymore on the news, only when a fucking stupid panda has a cub at the zoo, will the news give a shit. If you put a male bear next to a female bear, what the fuck do you expect to happen? They are gonna fuck and have a cub. Fucking rocket science folks. If I gave a shit about how slaughter houses treated animals, I'd prolly do something. Since I don't I won't. As you can see I can't stand vegan vegitarian fucks who expect everyone to accomodate for their self righteous new found diet. Make your own fucking food if your gonna be an asshole, fuck face. Thanks for putting the blame on everyone else. I have gastroparesis and not expecting everwhere to accomodate for my defect. I have to make my own food sometimes that I can handle. It sucks ass, but thats life. Do I expect a gastroparesis menu at mcdonalds? Fuck no. No ones even heard of the shit I have. Just know it fucking hurts and puts a big damper on my drinking intake. I have since stopped drinking, but who knows what life will throw at me. Times always change. If I have to hear "Animal Murderer" mumbled under another fuckign breathe, I'll rip you god damn jaw off and force feed you chicken. Ya I'll jam it straight down your fucking throat. Hopefully you can hold your breath a really long time. I'll eat what I want, when I want, however the fuck I want. I am an American. I can be an idiot and still be right. Thats what being an American is all about. No one can tell you NO. If I get really fat and die from a heartattack, you'll at least know, I was American. You vegans are the closest thing to commys that I'd ever seen, so please shut the fuck up and eat KFC.
At one point in time, I spent my life going to Westwood college and working at petco. I was taking graphic design and was not very well liked by my peers, but was needed for reasons I'll explain in just a bit. I had my aquaintences you could say. My classmates didn't particularly like me because I'd never go to class, but do well on projects and tests. The teacher regularly used my work as an example, either of what to do or what not to do. I didn't really care what they thought. I either made the teachers objectives stand out in my work or would ignore them completely. It just depended on how stoned I was when I did the project. I met a handful of good people at school, but only one is still kinda in my life. Kinda out on the outer rim, an overseerer, making sure I don't kill myself in my stupidty. She'd come to thanksgiving dinners for a while or christmas dinners, but I had a severe lack of pussy when hanging with her.
We first met in the halls of Westwood passing each other she shouted "Stoner!". My eyes doubled in size only more displaying the red glow that must have been radiating from my face. I replied "what's up?" we bull shitted for a few minutes and parted ways/ I still remember what shirt she was wearing, it was one of the Mario Bros mushroom shirts and was black in color. I remember thinking what a cute disney princess looking girl. I got some lunch with my friend at the time Beasley and got super stoned. We drove around a few hours knowing we had class but had much better things to do. It was art history. who the fuck cares. I like Dali thats all that matters. The others need to take more acid before they attempt anymore. Had nothing to do with graphic design. So I took no part in it. When I went back to class I ended up seeing that girl again. She asked if I had anymore weed. At this time I was the man to see if your looking for that kinda thing. I had just picked up a zip and had more than enough to share. She asked if she could get a ride home. I finally found out her name. It was Sharon. I had a Dodge Dakota then and gave her a ride home as well as smoke her out. I installed a cool air intake on it so it was a bit louder than your average Dakota. It fuckign took off too, got very good low end on that truck. 4.7 liters of justice. It soudned like a beast from the depths. She really didn't live too far, I mean a 20 minutes walk was all it was, but I'm sure she just wanted to get stoned. She was prolly just as lazy as I was, I couldn't blame her. She bought a gram or so and went inside her house all chinese eyes and with a disney grin on her face. The door closed behind her and I drove away.
Another kid I met at Westwood was named Patrick. He was from the east coast and wanted to come to California to study Graphic design. He was in all my classes. He just had this look on his face that he was just goooone. He'd talk like a young Tommy Chong "Duuuuude Jooohn What's uuup Maaaannnn". It was somewhat hilarious. He bought alot of weed off my throughout the time I spent at Westwood (3 months I think.) He introduced me to this other kid Kyle. He was Ginger in complexion with orange hair. A very tall lepracaun without a beard. Very recognizable. He was a very cool dude. I still run into him from time to time.
I also went to a few party's thrown by Westwood kids and met a kid Gershawn. He was black and fucking hilarious, I enjoyed his company always. He brought some of the hood with him, I loved that and respected him for it. He had a very welcoming way about him, it made it easy to come up to him to see what was going on. Then there was this other kid Kasey who literally thought his own shit did not stink. Right off the bat. He was from San Diego and had an ego the size of a fucking blimp. I have no Idea where he got it from either. Everyone thought he was an asshole. The girls liked him until they fucked him. They all must have seen something or unlocked the puzzle bercause after that, theyd give him the silent treatment and talk shit on him after class. He was in all my classes as well and was a fucking leech. I'd give him ideas for his projects because God forbid this fucking kid to do anything himself. Fuck, prolly to dumb to do it himself.
After a while even after I dropped out, I kept my contact with Patrick. We would chill toke herb, do lots of coke, and watch Beavis and Butthead. He also had a very nice PRS which he couldn't play for shit, but he thought he was good, and we let him. He had his downfalls, but you really gotta give him credit he did the best he could, and I liked that. He smoked Black tar in the bathroom, and would ask us if we wanted any then retracked the statement and say I don't want to get you into this. I wanted nothing to do with that shit then so I'd always say I'm good.
Anyways one night my friend Teh Zach, Arnie and his girlfriend were hanging out there --by this time we called Patrick "P-trick"-- and offered me and zach some acid. We both took it. It was weak but it still affected me, so I stayed up all fucking night under a cover wishing I was back to normal. Zach was a big guy and I don't think it did anything to him because he passed out soon after. I wanted to take the tab outta his mouth and take it, but I'm sure he swalloed it. It wasnt there. I checked. Everyone was a sleep, cept arnie and his girlfriend. They were fucking on the porch all night. I was contemplating going out the door, but the door seemed so far away and hard to use. I was under the covers thinking I was hearing demons and death zooming in. I was whispering to myself "Not now, why me, holy fuck!" Arnie then wanders in wondering what the fuck I'm doing and scares the shit outta me. I think he's death coming at me. I try for the door, shit oh shit it's locked. I'm locked in. I again refer to myself as 2 different people. I just wanted to be straight, out of the dark and not alone. All of those things were impossible. I would have simply unlocked the door but I wasn't right. Arnie went back outside detered by my behavior and they went at it again outside. I was like this for several hours and demanded to leave when everyone was up. It seemed like an eternity and it was my worst experience taking acid.
Patrick told me and Arnie about these pills called Methodone. I had no idea they were for heroin addicts who are trying to kick, so of course I bought some. He sold me 3 and told me to take all of them and that I'd be fine. This was when I had no tolerence for it and had no idea what I was getting into. So I did what he said and ended up Blue faced lieing down on Dahns couch barely awake, trying not to fall asleep. I had to lay down or I'd feel like I was gonna puke my brains out. My face was cold like a dead persons, heart barely beating out a pulse. I had to do a 20 sack of coke, 3 tabs of ecstacy, and Dahn gave me an eighth of shrooms that I sold him awhile ago to get me outta this state. I did the E first, did some coke and then ate the mushrooms. 45 minutes later I was on my feet running around Dahns Neighborhood alone talking to trees and bushes on his neighbors front lawn. Everything looked like an 80's music video or those outlines on the Hanging with Mr. Cooper Intro. It was awsome. I was tagging alot back then, I wouldnt tag on walls because they got covered up to quick. I tagged on the street, sidewalks and give handicapped signs a big diagnal straight line so they could have a boner. In my opinion since they drew the handicapped sign with his arms straight out in front of him instead of by his side, that they were asking for it. There are some that are still there to this day. I tagged a Triforce from "The Legend of Zelda" next to Juarez. As far as I know last time I checked its still there. I could have drawn a girl on his lap taking the dick, but that took too long in my opinion. I'm not in any gangs or anything, just a graphic artist let loose in an unsuspecting world, there for the taking, if you were able to notice it.
Cigarette filters do not tase good when burned, a warning to all, who dare to try. I accidently lit my cigarrette backwards multiple times because of my lack of sobriety.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
I Threw Up while I was asleep
Amber waves of grain
flow into my brain
option of regurgitation is one
that remains
I don't think I'll stop
but have more fun dritfing insane
Remember with a rug stain
Amber waves of grain
flow into my brain
option of regurgitation is one
that remains
I don't think I'll stop
but have more fun dritfing insane
Remember with a rug stain
Amber waves of grain
Fun with Whiskey and Ball Claps
For a while I Floated around East Anaheim and did a made my mark everywhere I possibly could. From Spray Painting boners on handicapped signs to Sleeping and pooping at Juarez. I was hanging out at the Lloyds for a while around this time and it was a blast. I hardly remember any of it, but from what I do it was glorious. This one night Me my friend Octi, Arnie, Katie, Erin or as we called her "Big Bird", Sarah and Billy the Canuck got hammered drunk, and fuck was it fun. Katie decided it'd be a good idea to snag a handle of whiskey from Stater Bros. I gave her a ride and she went inside. 2 or 3 minutes later she walked out with a handle of black velvet, the dirt cheapest piss poor pile of shit whiskey money can buy. We didn't have to though, she hada big purse. Now this was before whickey made me a terrible person. This was when I was a glorious person in these days and I'm about to tell you why. We went back to the house and got down to business, of course to polish off this one so we could get more. We started drinking in the driveway, I think thats when Teh Zach showed up to join in on the festivities. This was when I was sleeping at the park and this particular night, I had no money to eat the next day. I suggested Someone gave me 5 bux to snort the bottle cap full of whiskey up my nose. If you know what a handle is you'd know that the bottle cap is the size of a fucking shot glass prolly a little bigger. Billy the Canuck gladly flagged a 5 in my face to see if I was; indeed, a man of my word. I got a straw cut it short and took about 4 or 5 nice big wiffs along with 2 or 3 regurgitation bonanazas to finish it up. I'll tell you i'v never gotten drunker, faster, in all my god forsaken life, and for a moment I was triumphant. Then a shooting pain from my Testicular area shot up and my balls were in my throat. At the same time I heard a loud clapping sound below me. Arnie thought it'd a great idea to clap his hands, really fucking hard, with my nuts inbetween. This makes me vomit even more. It prolly woulda been really funny if it wasn't me, but shit it was me and I was in pain. We end up finishing up that bottle and I say I'll go get another one at CVS next door to the Stater Bros we went to earlier that night. I took a bike (for a clean and fast getaaway) and immediatly almost run into a parked RV that is nextdoor to the Lloyd residence, barely escaping certain death. When I got to CVS, I walked straight to the liquor aisle, grabbed another handle of black velvet, flip off the cashier that's too busy picking his ass to chase me, I then smiled walked to the bike and Booked it holding the bottle in one hand; desperatley trying not to eat shit and steer the bike back to where I came from. Crossing the street was no easy task. There was a center divider in the middle of the street at State College, "a terrible place to put one of these fucking things" I thought in the middle of a road, "someone could hit the fucking thing". I lift the front tire up with one hand to get up the curb and over this hurdle, Christ knows who put there, and somehow manage to not drop the whiskey in the process. I crossthe rest of the street pleading to my self "please don't be a fucking cop watching me do all this, just one more block and your golden." I made it and like always nobody believed in me, but Who is triumphant once again? FUCKING ME!! That's right. I also remember Kristie Testaburger being there as well by this point. We polish off this one too. At some point in the night I jumped off a neighbors roof into some bushes, landing on my back and again in a lot of pain. Me and Kristie decide to drive and get some food and when we come back, We hear Arnie screaming his fucking head off saying he hates us all and wants to die and takes off. I am at this point used to Arnie's awsome rampages of hate and death, so I didn't take him very seriously. He just needs to cool off and come back. I guess when me and Kristie left him and Billy the Canuck ended up getting to serious when they were drunken play fighting and ended up gettin pissed at each other. My guess is that Arnie hit him in the face and Billy didn't like that very much so he took off. I wasn't there and didn't really care to ask. Everything ended up being fine.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Why D.A.R.E. Is CounterProductive
In 6th grade I won an award... It was for an essay the D.A.R.E. Program in elementary school required us to write, about how we would never use drugs in our lifetime and why. For one I took it as a joke and was actually intrigued with the information about how drugs "affected" the human mind, bodies and souls. Instead of being taken by fear and to do as I am told, I am driven to find out what it is that they don't want us to have. Most of the time our parents will say no to things that their child wants. Regardless of the "NO" the child still wants what is behind the no and will do many things to try to attain this item. This initial act of conditioning is actually what drives me to go past the "NO" and manipulate my way into achieving what was so drastically trying to be kept from me. Now not every child behaves this way. They are called "Normys". Half of us will say "ok ok... I give up No means No". Not to me... No always starts when a child wants candy. To the child Candy is good. SO when the D.A.R.E. Officer, Reagan and my parents said NO, I stopped to wonder why, what can be so bad? they had the same answer to many other things before which I found to be good... This must be too. I fooled the teachers, the principle, the D.A.R.E. officer and whoever else read the fucking thing because I got Best Essay.
Since I could remember I "escaped" from any undesirable situation I can think of. One very literal example that I can remember is when it was shower time at home. My mom would first give my sister a bath and leave me naked running around the house. Once I could reach and learn the workings of the door knob I would "escape" from my bath (undesireable situation) by opening the door, naked as a beast, and take off on my big wheel. I know a Child molesters dream, this was when they were laying low and not grabbin kids off the street and offereing them candy to get into a car, no this was when people were civil and when they spotted this 3 year old taking a sunday cruise on his big wheel naked they attempted to bring him back home. This is the most obvious example of escapism that I can think of in my childhood years. Well besides Nintendo. Fuck real life, I can die all i want and jump from block to block, Even shoot fireballs at my enemy and have them incinerated right in front of me. Why would I want to engage in real life? Anyways I'm rambling what I'm getting at is that I and many other children use escapism at a very young age and grow accustom to doing so the rest of there lives. We will lie, cheat, and manipulate our way around the "no"s and create "YES"s. All you had to do was observe your parents response to the stimuli that you throw out. Like Pavlov and the dog, yes I'm sure alot of you trained your parents to react the way you wanted by doing certain things or acting certain ways. Sometimes the manipulation goes beyond your comtrol and you are forced to A. act out your lie, or B. blow your cover. Sometimes act out the lie becomes overwhelming and you even forget your lieing to get what you want. You believe it's what you want. Then you're in too deep.
Reagan and his administration should have really thought this thing through. Those of you that have heard "ignorance is bliss" should be able to relate to this next idea. If we were never exposed to what was out there we wouldn't seek it. Just like we know humans can't fly, we don't have wings. no super natural powers to let us float, so very very few of us try without aid of an airplane or hangglider or whatever. I never knew what a vagina looked like until sex ed. They even tell you which hole to stick it in pretty much. I wasn't trying that until I found out about it. They literally tell you where the pussy is and how to fuck it. Just like how schools now pass out condoms "if they're gonna do it, they might as well be safe." Now kids are having sex younger than ever. Thanks knowledge and the adults trying to be "Cautious". So now Reagans wife goes on a JUST SAY NO TO DRUGS campaign rampage all over the United States, Giving all us who say Just say NO to NO another way to Get what we want. What are they hiding? It must be good. Anyone who finds a gold mine will not openly tell everyone about it, if they are smart they will hide it. With that logic in place, More and more kids a re gonna try it.
I forget what D.A.R.E actually stands for i think it's Drug Awarness and Resistance Education actually. Now take the word Education. When you want to learn about something and pursue it, you want to be educated in the subject. It seems kind of weird to educate 5th and 6th graders about things they will most likely enjoy and tell them NO. The D.A.R.E. Program in my opinion is more destructive than constructive, whatever anyone tries to say. If DARE was abolished I really think we'd have less of a so called appademic than we have on our hands. Plus most of the drug money just makes other countries economies stronger since thats where we get it from, especially mexico from heroin sales. WIth a recent exception to pot in california because we can legally grow it here through proper paper work and money throughput.
I started smoking pot when I was 12 or 13 it's hard to say. Let's say the summer of 7th grade. Now I've been escaping undesirable situations since I could remember (faking sick, throwing a tantrum whatever is necessary to get out of going to church or school). Now the escape was a tangible object, not an action. You could hold it, smell it, eat it if you wanted, or just smoke it cuz thats how DARE said you did it.
You see Addicts start becoming addicts when they are about 3, not 18, 21, or 40. WHen they are very young. This is one thing the Regean administration did not ever understand. In the 80's America was growing richer and there was actually a middle class. Kids got spoiled more often than not because their parents had the means to do it. It was usually easier than fighting it. But like I said if you tell some people NO, they will obey and sometimes not even know why. They just know they should obey, they've been conditioned that way. JUST DO AS YOUR TOLD, thats the curse that becomes placed on those poor souls. Do as your told without knowing why, don't ask why, just do it. This is how Tyrants remain in power, this is how wars are fought, this is how senseless laws are enforced and how many innocent people have to suffer. Economics is another reason but thats just apart of being a working stiff. You Trade in your beliefs for some cash. Good job, well done you've been had, just like the kid who got in the car for some candy. This is how the Nixons, Reagans, Bushes and Saddams kept their power. Obey even when you can't say why. Keep everyone Ignorant and indifferent to anything that is "different" or unacceptable. This is the type of society we have today, they have won. Free thinkers are destined to be criminals or live under the radar never helping society. Good job.
BTW This is all my opinion I dont have any confirmed facts
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