Dude, this is possibly the most disturbing photograph of all time.
Holy Shit! SHE’S THE TERMINATOR!
And I Thought My Life Was Getting Weird
I just took a call from a potential client who wanted to know if it was legal under Hawaii law to videotape the actions of other people, without their consent, in a condominium of which he, and the people he wants to videotape, are all part owners.
“Why would you want to do that?”
“Because I think that what they’re doing is immoral.”
“Um, okay. I’m sorry, we don’t handle those kind of issues. You going have to find somebody else.”
The best part – the all have the same last name, so it’s either father watching daughter or wife or some other combination I don’t really want to envision.
Fuck You! And Your Cat
Fuck Valentine’s Day.
Yeah, I just got an email from my ex-girlfriend asking me if I sent something to her work place.
I replied, “Sorry, I don’t fight battles I can’t win, must be some other sucker.”
The Point of All This Livin’ Is the Dying Yet to Come
Well, color me shocked. Heath Ledger died of an “accidental” drug overdose.
Now, of course, it’s being said that it was just a combination of the drugs which caused the death, but the amounts of each in his system aren’t being released. The family claims that they were all within prescribed dosages.
However, I seem to recall a report of a rolled up $20 bill at the scene, along with packets of an “unknown substance.” Now, just ignoring the packets, one of the drugs in his system was Oxycontin and, having snorted a whole shit load of those bad boys (before figuring out that you got a lot more out of them if you bypassed the middle man and shot them directly into your bloodstream), my method of choice for snorting was the rolled up bill, which I would then lick clean of all residue – you know, to get all the good shit.
Now, I’m not celebrating the death of this actor. As I have written elsewhere, I enjoyed his movies and it really is a loss to the acting community. However, hopefully the acting community, and the community at large, will take heed and begin to understand that it doesn’t matter if you buy your smack in the warzone in Philly or at your local Walgreens, the shit will fucking kill you.
Sadly, however, no one will notice, no one will change, no one will stop and more people will die. As long as people make the distinction between “Oh, this is legal, prescribed, I got it from my doctor,” and “Hey man, can a get a bundle?” then stupid people are going to make stupid mistakes and they’re going to die.
Junkie, Heal Thyself
Yeah, so life’s been a bit crazy of late, what with thinking about my future employment, trying to find a new house mate (Madmartigan, move the fuck back to this island, dickface), getting in my daily exercise and dealing with the fact that six to ten inches of rain have fallen here nearly every day for the last two weeks.
Still, I get my lifting in, do my cardio, try and make the rent for next month while desperately seeking a warm body to fill this empty space in my house. Oh, yeah, and I go to work, too.
And, I haven’t smoked a cigarette since last Monday and I still haven’t killed anyone, even though I did have a 3 hour NA service meeting on Sunday morning. I’ve mentioned this meeting before here.
But, I’m happy to say, I had my last appointment with the liver specialist today and, at one year post-interferon treatment, the Hepatitis C virus is still completely undetectable in my system.
Hence, I’m fuck’n cured, bitches! And on December 12,2007, I made four years clean and sober.
And, you know what, that whole not dying thing is kinda cool. So I’m not really going to sweat the small stuff.
I don’t know what this life has in store for me, but I’m pretty sure that I’ll come out clean on the other side.
The Muse Never Dies
I keep meeting this girl
this broken girl
beautiful, but like a broken toy
or Humpty Dumpty after all efforts
of the King’s horses and men
and I can never fix her
so I no longer even try.
I fuck her silly
for as long as she’ll let me
then, as we circle
ever and ever closer
to the edge of emotion, she,
like a deer in the headlights,
stops — cold,
Me, like a dumbass
I usually fall (or do I leap?)
off the edge.
But what can I say?
Misery was my only companion
for many a year and
I love both the love,
as well as the loss.
Perhaps I’m too nice,
perhaps they’re too broken,
but I’ve been broken before.
And I’ll be damned if I fear
flying too close to the sun.
So, as soon as the bleeding stops
as soon as my wings flex again,
Some Things Never Change
I am such a junkie.
I just found two nicotine patches in my drawer at work. The big ones – 21 mg.
My first thought – “Dude! I bet in a month, I could slap one of these bitches on and be high all day.”