Friday, December 26, 2008

Is there such a thing as a selfless asshole? There is now!


Wowee! It's been a few days huh? I have no excuse as usual....just because. The kitty pic becomes relevant later on in the post, just thought I' let y'all know. I have some new friends online that came my way via Regina. Junky girls, you can never have enough of those around! I'm being totally sincere! I like 'em.....excepting the freaky cousin of one of these girls who seems to have become obsessed with banging me at some point in the future.
Interesting, I seem to have made another conquest by doing nothing more than being my usual charming self. Understandable really, I am unbelievably charming and infinitely interesting haha.
Not too worried about the pervo cousin, he's in NYC and I don't imagine I'm gonna be there any time soon. Since I'm on the subject I might as well tell y'all the story of the Hot Topic goth drama, I was just oooooooozing personality that day hehe.
My psych appt had been forced upon me and having just left the office of the condescending cunt that is my therapist I was in an amazing mood. Add to that the fact that I had to walk my lazy ass 6 blocks to buy some cigarettes and you might begin to get an idea of what I was feeling that day. Uncharitable to say the least.
I bought my smokes, called Casey to pick me up and sat on the curb to light up and calm down. There I was, minding my own business when I was accosted by the noxious aroma of a clove cigarette. I hate those things on principal, I consider them a prop for the terminally hip. Plus they taste like shit, I could achieve the same effect for far less money by spritzing my Marlboro with some hairspray...NASTY!
Anyway, I look behind me and there's this girl wearing something that looked like Edward Scissorhands en route to the Renaissance fair. I could have overlooked the fact that she was dressed like a moron, it wasn't the outfit per se, it was the fact (one of several),that she was in full costume and make-up at the Citgo,11am Monday morning.
She had to have been in her late 20's and had that snotty look on her face that says she's desperately trying to pull off her look but actually feels insecure as fuck. If you can't pull it off, don't wear it! It could look like absolute shit but as long as you have the savoir fair required to sport it, then it's cool. She didn't.
I was already in a pissy mood and the dirty looks she started shooting in my direction didn't help. I took a long drag off my cig, smiled at her and asked her what the fuck she was staring at. She didn't have a specific answer, just mumbled something....but I didn't really care for her tone haha. I stood up and smiled again, she was still wearing her ultra-cunt expression. Think you can be bigger cunt than moi? Haha, NOT gonna happen, I reign supreme! She rolled her eyes and that was it, I flicked my cigarette at her head and asked her again, what the fuck was she staring at?
First let me say that the outfit looked even more ridiculous as she dodged my lit cig.I never knew lame could move so fast haha. I started from the bottom, telling her exactly what I thought of her retarded Demonia buckle boots and slowly working my way up.
I gave her no opportunity to get a word in as I expounded on what I thought of lames who wore queer My Chemical Romance wristbands and more make-up than the entire cast of Hedwig and the Angry Inch......just to go fetch a Slurpee at the gas station.
I had just finished telling her that if she didn't get that bovine look off her face, I was gonna take her pretentious Dijarm ciagarette and put it out between her over made-up eyes.......then I heard Casey say, "Leave the girl alone, maybe that's just the way her face is, maybe she can't help looking like a constipated gopher"
HAHAHA, that killed it! I started laughing because the unfortunate girl did look a bit gopher-ish. Casey led me back to the truck and my pissy mood was a distant memory.
Now I'm sure y'all are thinking that I'm an insufferable asshole.....and you're probably right. I'm not one iota better than that lame-ass girl. Chances are I'm worse. I wear some retarded gear and my eyeliner bill could probably support a small third world country. I wouldn't be caught dead in a MCR wristband but that's just me. The thing that makes us different is that while I may walk around dressed like the junky makeover that wouldn't die, I have no qualms about it whatsoever.
I have an innate ability to disregard whatever doesn't suit my purpose, that includes the opinions of people who think I'm dressed like an idiot. I don't care, go suck yourself.If you don't like it, then don't fucking look at me.
Same concept as what I tell my anon haters, if they don't like it they can go get hit by a truck, not gonna ruin my day. Speaking of, I'm feeling unloved! I don't think I've had a negative comment in weeks!What the fuck people? The last whacked out e-mail I got was over a month ago and I'm starting to feel neglected.
Oh well, fuck 'em. I have my little circle of blogger buds and all you other misc.fuckers who leave me helpful comments. I loves the comments haha. Even the ones from my nemesis Josh and his unflagging sidekick Eddie. I loves my Eddie too.
So yeah, I'm as lame as anybody else, I just wear it better. I had thought to go into a diatribe attacking metal posers but I'll just summarize. I think that metal is the last refuge for aging hipsters who are trying desperately to cling to some semblance of cool. In circles where punk is considered passe the last gasp is to become a connoisseur of various types of metal music. I have no objection to metal, I listen to my fair share. What I object to is some fucktard who I knew back in the day suddenly swapping his Exploited T for a Motorhead shirt and babbling about Black Sabbath. I love Black sabbath and Motorhead..........I do NOT love morons who go on and on about Iron Man and Ace of Spades yet they look confused should someone mention Tommy Iommi or Eddie Clarke. Plus could you pick two more obvious songs? The whole thing gives me the same disgusted feeling as when I saw a pic of Miley Cyrus wearing a New York Dolls shirt. Fuck! I am a stuck-up cunt SUPREME! Haha, I don't give a FUCK! I think my opinion is justified and brilliant... and that's all that matters. Long fucking summary hehe.
I'm not really a music snob...or am I? Whatever. Just so everybody knows, the fact that I have repeatedly called myself lame only makes me that much more hardcore hahahahaha, riiiiiiight.
Anyway, my mom will be here on Monday, I am so stoked! For the first time in my adult life I can honestly say that I want my mommy. Before I was just too much of a selfish asshole to spare any thought for anyone who was not in my immediate vicinity. I'm still a selfish asshole, it's just that I'm a slightly more considerate selfish asshole.....and boy do I wear it well!
I spent loads of money on presents for everyone and I really don't care what they bring me, my birthday is on New Years and Casey is taking me to get a kitten which is so AWESOME I can barely even begin to verbalize it. A kitty...yay! I looooove kitties. I was banned (by Casey) from having kitties when the last two became strungout.........with NO help on my part.....long story.
Anyway, I'm gonna cook up a storm as soon as my family gets here, insane dishes like Beef Wellington and all that kinda shit. I'm totally excited!
I'm going to the doc tomorrow because I noticed some red splotches on my foot and I'm not gonna wait for it to get worse. They told me that since the infection had been in my blood that it might come back and that I needed to watch it because it could go septic and get into my heart and blah, blah, blah. Meaning......if I ignore it like I am prone to do, I could end up having to have some weird heart surgery or die....so I'm going in tomorrow. Whatever, my biggest worry is that they'll ship me back to the hospital and I'll spend my family's visit there.
Not really worried about the whole septic death (haha) thing, we'll just hafta see what develops. Casey is gonna CRACK if I have to go back in. Is it fucked up that his mental well being is foremost on my mind when I'm thinking about the hospital? I feel like I should be more worried about myself...but I'm not. Hehe maybe I'm becoming a self-less asshole? Naaaaah.
So here's hoping everyone had a kick-ass holiday and if you didn't....stop sniveling, it's over til next year. I love all y'all motherfuckers and don't forget to hit up my girl k1tten on her blog and leave her a comforting comment, she just had to go under the knife for a gnarly abscess and she could use the support. Plus you get to see a gory pic of her gaping wound,post lancing. Who doesn't want to look at that shit?
Later on kiddies,XOXO, Melody Lee

Friday, December 19, 2008

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Part one: Insanity + some random palavering because it's what I do best

I drank way too much last night and since alcohol is not my favorite type of substance to abuse, the hangover I have right now is so not worth it. I feel like sawed off shit! The computer screen is hurting my eyes and the only reason I haven't gone to rifle through my store of percs is that getting up would require too much movement, movement that would ultimately result in me feeling like my brains are being scrambled.
I brought it on myself, as usual...whatever.
I'm not really a drinker, I mean I can slug down hard liquor with the best of 'em but I pretty much cut out alcohol a long time ago. It was right after I personally experienced a liquor induced H OD. I had heard that it was not a good combo but I was a dumbass and had probably only been using for a few months.
Whilst waiting for Adam W. to drop off some bags and come back with our cut, I joined Butch in a few swigs of Mad Dog. It wasn't enough to get a 6 yr old buzzed but it was enough to make me fall out in the Denney's parking lot. LAME.
Adam was driving my car and didn't know I was out til he went to leave said parking lot. He made a right turn onto California Ave and I'm told I flopped to the right, smacking my head so hard on the passenger side window that it cracked. My head was fine though HAHA.
All I really remember was sitting in the car, doing my shot while I watched the people in Denney's and wondering if they had any clue there were three losers shooting up in a car just beyond the big glass window.
I woke up pissed because Adam and Vanessa were pouring water on my head and the first thing I heard was Adam laughing and saying, "Oh, she doesn't like that." No shit asshole!
They drove downtown and got Ed, at that point in time he actually gave a shit whether I lived or died and they spent the next few hours walking me up and down the riverbed by Beale park. So I guess he's not a total dick........not totally.
Anyway my point is that I don't usually drink........long ass story to get one lil point across but what am I if not in love with the sound of my own voice.
I'll get to the actual update part of this bitch, my sojourn to hell aka Cuba with Rainman and all the signs from above that I shoulda kept my ass at home.
R-man had fucked me off the day before due to some pressing tweeker business, mainly he got stuck on a hamster wheel of speed induced auto repair.
The next day he called to say that he would be over at noon. 12 came and went and he called to say that he was gonna be stuck in Aztec for a while but would be by when he was done.
I became possessed by the relentless house cleaning Demon and proceeded to sterilize the kitchen.......I shoulda known right then that shit was gonna get ridiculous! After I washed every dish in the house (even the ones that were already clean), I mopped the floors as well. It was when I went into the bathroom to continue my cleaning frenzy that I was accosted by the sight of our bathtub......filled to the top with nasty kitchen sink water!
For some reason all the water I had used while I was washing dishes etc had decided that going down the pipes was too de rigeur, it wanted to pool itself in my bathtub!
I don't think I need to say how disgusting this was. Greasy, dirty dish and floor water all up in the tub. Through some lucky coincidence I had used just enough water to fill it but not overflow it, thanx be to God for small favors and yes I am a terribly wasteful bitch. Go Tell it to Leo Decaprio and his band of "Green" Nazi's.
Anyway, as if that wasn't enough, when I tried to flush the blue gel stuff after scrubbing the toilet, it started to overflow............does it get any better than that? Maybe if it had been full of excrement, luckily it was just bowl cleaner.
I turned off the water thing under the toilet and called the landlord who assured me that he would be right over to look at it. Riiiight, like I hadn't heard that several times that day already.
Still caught up in some twisted housework mania, I gave up on the bathroom and started cleaning out the refrigerator. About half way through, I noticed that the freezer had started making an unpleasant buzzy-type whining noise.........right before it took a complete shit. If I wanted to look on the bright side I suppose I could have said that it saved me the trouble of having to defrost it but at that point I was NOT feeling very optomistic and the bright side could go get fucked along with the tub, toilet and freezer!
This was my reward for attempting to foray into the domain of Suzie Homemaker? Fuck Suzie too!
I then got a call from a friend who was in a spot and wanted to know if I could wire her some cash. Not a problem...............except for the fact that I had no way to leave the house, R-man was STILL dragging ass and Casey wouldn't be home for hours yet.
I decided to cut it with the cleaning bullshit, it seemed to be causing an avalanche of catastrophes. That was when I shoulda called off the whole R-man thing, God was trying to tell me something. I never listen.
One hour turned into five and by the time Casey got home from work neither the landlord nor the tweeker had put in an appearance. I was thoroughly pissed, the water level in the tub had gone down just enough to leave behind an oh-so-attractive ring of muck and the freezer was dripping steadily on my recently mopped floor.
I washed my hands of the entire situation and miracle of miracles, R-man rings me to say that he's outside.
I told Casey what was up and got the stink eye, not because I was going out but because I was leaving him to deal with the household mayhem. I stuffed 3 percs in his mouth, promised him a fat shot of Oxy when I returned and kissed him........on my way out the door HAHA, laters mothafucka!!!

Fuck my head hurts.........and the douchebag blasting Megadeath next door is doing NOTHING to improve matters. Fuck Dave Mustane in his Metal Edge asshole!
I'll continue my tale of woe tomorrow, I feel I may finally be capable of toddling to the medicine cabinet after which I will plop my ass in front of the TV and watch hour upon blissful hour of Clean House. The cleaning Demon needs his fix of Niecy Nash and crew.... I think he (the Demon) may be gay because I find myself becoming strangely attracted to Mark Brunetz and that just CANNOT be me.
Loves, loves, loves you...............Melody

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Insanity/inanity=what my world has been reduced to

It's been a while, I'm still burned out. Not feelin' the whole update thing. I keep going through cycles of semi-OK and just plain shitty. Fuck speed and all it's upper-type siblings! Crack is whack! I'm rambling like a tard.
I NEED some smack and I have none! The oxy is history...it was nice while it lasted. Too much stupid shit, coincidental mayhem and tweeker insanity/inanity for me to go into it now. It wouldn't be very interesting, the way I feel ahorita, it would probably read like the a court transcript. Everything in this shit town shuts down at 10pm........what is this nowhere-land?
My mom is coming to visit and bringing misc. relatives with her. I'm stoked, really I am but not looking forward to all that the visit entails i.e. too much preparation and stress. I'm not the stress type, I prefer to be mellow.
Confrontations aside, I'm a pretty mellow chick, haha even without the smack. That reminds me, have to tell y'all about my tete a tete with the Hot Topic pseudo goth. My snobbery knows no bounds.
I'm just as lame as she is, just in a different way haha I wear it better. I'll get to that mess next time. I'm done....in. A bitchy,(snobbish)cunt with a story to tell.....tomorrow...maybe. Love all y'all motherfuckers, Melody

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Lovable hopeless me.............


I've been eating percs like candy and was surprised to find that the Neurontin gives a better nod. Interesting.......
Several things happened yesterday, first I got a call super early(8am),from Rainman tempting me with the promise of Oxy if I went on some stupid errand with him. I said, "No!".........then "Maybe"........then "Well I suppose"...........which turned into "Hurry the fuck up already!"
He called back around 12pm to say that he had gotten tied up replacing the fuel pump in one of his cars. Uuuuuugh! Motherfucker!!!! Talk about a tease!
Although I did get some awesome IV drugs in the hospital, it has been way too long since I had any H and Oxy is a decent substitute. So I tried to tamp down that feeling of denied expectation and move on with my day.
Then I get a call from Anna telling me that she overnight-ed me a 1/2 oz of powdered shrooms and 4 syringes of spores (they came yesterday). Over the next couple of weeks I will slowly get all her equipment via US mail.
Why the fuck she sent it to me remains a mystery, I know JACK SHIT about growing shrooms! She's still in Oregon and as far as I know plans to stay there. She's a headcase....and coming from me that's a pretty harsh judgement HAHA. Oh well, I love her anyway. I guess I'm a shroom farmer now.
Oh and my shipment of Persian white and Afghani red poppy seeds came as well. I had to order about 50 packs because they are just biological samples and one is not enough seeds to germinate. What am I going to do with them you ask?
Three guesses and no I'm not retarded enough to think I can refine them into heroin......opium on the other hand I can make. I helped out a friend a few years ago and I have an excellent memory( and if I don't I can just call and ask him). It's a pretty basic process and not half the pain in the ass that it is to make smack. If there's one thing I'm not (and the list is looong) it's a chemist.
It did cross my mind that Rainman might be a help if I decided I wanted to try for some H. He may be an idiot but when it comes to manufacturing substances he is Mr. Wizard. He seems to know his way around chemicals and all that bullshit and I'm sure he would be able to score whatever was needed and............
Yeah, yeah bad idea.........*whining* "But I was only gonna make enough for me and Casey..........." Yeah, right!
Next thing you know I'm the Heroin Czarina of New Mexico!
I has it's appeal but as I have NO desire to cross swords with La M. I think Opium will be juuuust fiiiine. They won't be finding pieces of me scattered across the desert!
I told Casey that I was gonna turn the garage into a hydroponics bay and he just rolled his eyes and reminded me that I can barely remember to water the house plants much less manage to regulate the temps required for fruiting mushrooms. The poppies would probably get fried under the heat lamps or never break soil at all!
Thanx for the vote of confidence babe.
He's right though, I'm way too lazy to stay on top of all that shit..............but that won't keep me from trying. Anna is sending me the dutch oven or whatever the fuck it is (pressure cooker?), the fruiting chamber and all the various odds and ends needed for growing and harvesting shrooms. All I have to do is buy some kind of flour and something called vermiculite(????), if I can't find it here I'll just order it online.
As for the poppies, they thrive in a desert climate but since this is the cocksucking "High" desert and it just snowed here last night, I'm gonna have to go the whole greenhouse route. Who wants to bet $50 that by next fall I'll be neck deep in Opium? What!! No takers? Doubting bastards!
Around 4 I got bored and made Casey take me to Wal-mart where I bought a PS2 and about 20 games. I also made him stop by the Tattoo shop where I purchased a few different labrets, some captive rings and a couple of barbells. I also got some 14G piercing needles.........wonder what I'm gonna do with all that stuff..........
Boredom is an ugly thing!
Casey left for work this morning in fear that he might return and find me looking like Pin-head from Hellraiser. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
I'll probably just put a few more holes in my ears and settle for that, I'm too old to be sporting 29 piercings in my face. I was considering my septum but that shit hurts!
Funny how I have no problem sticking rigs in my back and muscle-ing shots of tar so thick they burn like acid. Spinal tap anyone? I did say I was inconsistent.
So I talked to k1tty last night for a few minutes and then decided to go to bed. I took 1200 mg's of Neurontin and 4 percs and was feeling all snugly in my nice warm bed when the phone rang.........and rang and rang. I let it go and it finally stopped. I was awoken from my drug induced snooze around 5 this morning by another series of unending rings. I finally got my ass up and answered it, it was Rainman.
He launched into a tirade about people who don't answer their phones and then told me to be ready at noon. I wonder if I'll go?
I'll be sure to let y'all know in my next installment, MUAHAHAHAHA.........
And I will be sure to sterilize myself before I go injecting any foreign substances. I cringe at the thought that I might have to *shudder* waste the Oxy by eating it.
As my latest anonymous commenter stated, I'm hopeless!!! But that's what makes me so interesting HAHA AND lovable.
Now before I go, I'll leave y'all with a question from my endless store of useless knowledge/trivia: What was the name of the starlet who was squashed to death by Fatty Arbuckle in an orgy that included being penetrated by a champagne bottle?
Christ I love Kenneth Anger!
Bye, Bye angels, this is Melody Lee signing out.

Friday, December 5, 2008

More human than human

The trip to the doc yielded 2 scrips, one for neurontin and one for percocet. Eeeeh better than nothing I suppose, I also got corralled into resuming my psych visits. I have been avoiding that shit like the plague but since I am state ordered I guess it looks like I can either comply or end up having to deal with a whole lotta bullshit. So my appointment is for next week.
Those psych appointments are a joke! The bitch listens to NOTHING that I say and then prescribes stupid meds that do NADA! I have been criticised for poo-pooing therapy but how can being ignored be therapeutic? The cunt believes that I am repressing some hideous memory that has caused me to be the way I am and I disagree. I am not suffering from post traumatic stress disorder!!! I am positive that my mother never handed me over to satanists to be gang raped in some lame ritual when I was 3 and I do NOT need to waste my time looking for a "root" that does not exist! I have no problem dealing with my past, I am not harboring repressed emotions about a damn thing! Ask me anything! I've been through this shit before.....I don't blame my parents for anything, any past abuse/trauma is just that....PAST! I am over it and it doesn't bother me at all.
I do not stay up nights weeping into my pillow thinking about shit that I can't change.Hindsight usually does more harm than good and guilt is for suckers! I think that maybe my psych is hoping that if she beats the dead horse long enough I will start to feel bad about it. Is that fucked up or what? Shiesty quack!
Any one who is interested in reading more about my opinion on psychs and related subjects can follow this link or if the lame-ass link isn't working you can go to my July 11 post "I like my roots..."
So anyway, the Indonesian husband story...............
I had this friend from Poland named Borys, I had met him through one of my connects. He was a fence/club promoter in L.A. and had all kinds of crazy international hookups for weird underground stuff. He dealt in surrogates and baby brokering and green card marriages etc. He fenced stuff for us on occasion but mostly he was just fun to hang out with. He was gay and had a HUGE crush on Casey too. He was always taking pics of us and then he would laugh and say he was gonna cut me out of them. I'm fairly sure he did haha. Casey always was a fag magnet. Borys used to call us his little Sid and Nancy and take us to artsy parties so we could shock his uptight fag friends.
So one day he tells me that he has a proposition for me, he had this friend whose lover needed citizenship. The guy was willing to pay 15,000.00 for it, he was some kind of nuclear engineer or some shit, he could afford it. The guy I was supposed to marry was here on a temporary visa.
After Casey made sure that there wasn't going to be any marital "duties" involved we said yes. Why not, 15 grand is nothing to sneeze at and we had just been booted out of our current lodgings for "suspicious' activity i.e. too much junky business (thanx Johnny Thunders). We were staying with Borys in L.A. til we found a new place and that cash would go far in making that happen.
The first step was meeting the lovely couple, Mark and Teddy. They were super cool and took us out to dinner so we could discuss things. I give them props for not backing out when they saw us because Borys calling us Sid and Nancy was pretty damn accurate. I was on Methadone but shooting H more than I was dosing and Casey was just plain ol' strungout. We were all sucked up but we looked cute, heroin chic at it's finest hahaha. Not exactly the look to inspire confidence though. I guess they liked us and Borys assured them that we weren't gonna take the money and run.
After everybody was all palsy-walsy it was decided that the best thing to do was go back to Bako and make the arrangements there. It was my hometown after all and we wanted everything to look above board.
Mark put us up at the Doubletree (we were still homeless) and paid for everything. Borys was along for the ride as well and he was getting a cut for brokering the whole meet an greet, ever the businessman Borys.
The first thing I had to do was sign a pre-nup and then I signed some papers stating that I would not try to extort more $$ in the future (who me?), not sure how you would present something like that in court but whatever. After we got all that shit notarized we went and got the marriage license. All this took less than a week and the whole time Casey and me were bombed out of our skulls. Mark had kindly provided some petty cash, I wouldn't get any real $$$ til the deed was done. We went out to dinner every night and Mark and Teddy proved to be real troopers, looking the other way as me and Casey snuck off to the bathrooms and spent the majority of the meals trying not to take a nose dive into our entrees.
I ended up getting wed in a black bondage dress and my red and black steel-toes at "The wee kirk of the roses" on Brundage Ave with Casey and Borys signing as witnesses. The wedding photos were something to behold, we always wondered if the minister though it was strange that as soon as he pronounced us man and wife I went straight to Casey and Teddy headed for Mark's loving arms. We went to lunch afterwards and Mark slipped me en envelope with 10,000.00 in it. It was awesome! The stacks of bills had those little bindings on them like in the movies. I would get the other 5 when we passed all the INS bullshit.
Borys took lots of pics of the happy couple for evidence um I mean our family photo album and then we had them drop us downtown. We called up the connect and when we got back to the hotel we had 3 thou less than before. We stayed there for another week and then proceeded to surf from house to house being generous with what was left of the dope. We were in great demand as house guests haha.
I paid my methadone clinic 3 months in advance and we eventually ended up at Kristen's house. I bought a tacky-perfect teal green Firebird and even put some of the money away. That was why I had the $$$ to finance us when we needed it.
Throughout the time at Kristen's we would occasionally make the trip to San Diego (Mark and Teddy's) for misc appointments with INS.
This was also an excellent excuse to skip over the border into T.J. for various odds and ends. This was before you needed a passport to cross over and it was sooo easy to go back and forth on foot. You just went up the stairs and through the turnstile and voila Mexican pharmacies in every direction. You could actually put the pills in your bag and have no problem crossing back. The good ol' days........
We had to go to tons of appointments where they asked us personal questions and whatnot to ensure that we were actually living as husband and wife, needless to say I am a genius at memorization. We would have all night study groups where we would try and learn as much trivial info about each other as possible. Learning all that stuff wasn't that difficult, the real challenge was trying to make Teddy seem masculine enough to come across as straight. He looked very butch but on the inside he was all woman.
It took about a year but Teddy finally got his citizenship and I got my other 5 thou. They loved us and even bailed Casey out of jail one time when he got arrested in Oceanside (Casey gets arrested every time he goes out of town).
Borys got deported after some complications with a surrogate mother from the Czech Republic but when I was still in Bako I would get the occasional call from Krakow, wherever the fuck that is, Poland I suppose.
I'm not sure if I'm still married or not, I lost touch with Mark and Teddy. I guess it's possible, I should probably find out about that, Casey does want to get married eventually and an Indonesian husband could get in the way.
So that's it for now, my lemon-poppy seed muffins are beeping at me from the kitchen and I need a serious smoke break.....followed by about 10 percs heheh. Cold water extraction anyone? APAP is hell on your liver and I have problems enough. Kisses kids, Melody

Thursday, December 4, 2008

From the useless knowledge vault.....geez I love the internet!

During the fifteenth century, Venice ordained that local Italian prostitutes should bare their breasts while soliciting at open windows overlooking the city’s famous canals and walkways. The ruling was intended to separate the city’s "professional" women from the general citizens, and also to encourage young men to purchase the prostitutes’ wares and avoid the unspeakable sins of masturbation and homosexuality.



HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!! That's all........

Short and sweet or is it sweet and low?

I have a doc appointment today so I won't be able to get into the Indo marriage story just yet. It's actually not til 2 but ya know me, it's gonna take me all day to drag ass and accomplish a damn thing! If I was gonna score I woulda been out the door 2 hours ago, typical me. I do have my priorities!
My default song is bringing back memories of Grant the douchebag jocko homo who was my boyfriend for way too long a long time ago. I can't even begin to make excuses as to what was going through my mind when I deigned to associate with not only a jock but a football jock at that, I guess it was the drugs.........
With us it was a non-stop brawl and though it was OK sometimes for the most part I got tired of having to explain away bruises. My mom was horrified that going to shows caused that much damage, at least that's what I told her.
I never actually set fire to the bed.........his stupid ND football uniform is a different story haha! I BBQ'd it in retaliation for him having dragged me down 19th st by my hair the previous evening. I never was able to pull off being the meek female. Fuck that kicked dog act!
Note to any girls who find themselves in a similar sitch, guys who like to smack the crap outta you are not amused when you laugh at their efforts and cast aspersions on their manhood. Choose carefully girls, I don't want anybody saying they got their ass beat because of me.
My big mouth has always been an issue.....for others. To my way of thinking seeing the look on his face was worth it. He was a cocksucker anyway and ended up getting pistol whipped by one of my Southsider friends. AAAAH memories!
Anyway, I'll get back to y'all later, miss me fuckers, you know you always do! Hugs and kisses, Melody.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

A *few* day(s) in the life.............


So since I'm still feeling crappy I figured I would regale y'all with "The Raid" story. After all it's not like I have anything better to do than re-live my past insanity. It makes me feel..........accomplished HAHA. I can say that I have lived more unreal shit in my life than most people so that is an accomplishment of sorts.
If I wasn't such an unmotivated asshole I woulda typed all this crap out long ago and sold it to some trash mongering publishing house but...........I am a useless cunt so y'all get the privilege of reading it here for free. HAHAHAHA.......
Fuck, this is gonna take awhile.......It all went down like this:

I was living with this chick Kristen (the one who got hit by a truck) and Casey was there, NLR Brad, Frog, Kristen's mom Reverie and some other misc fuckers. Anna lived out in the converted garage as well but she was clean and stayed away from us junkies.
Casey and I had moved in a few months before when I had received a substantial amount of $$$ for marrying some Indonesian guy (long story). It wasn't our intention to start slinging again but the location was choice and as soon as all our junky brethren found out we were there it turned into a regular stop for everyone. It wasn't so bad 'cause even though we weren't yet back in business we got kicked down all day long for letting people fix in our room. I was still on methadone at the time but going to the clinic maybe 3X a week. It was so inconsistent I could still get loaded as fuck off a $20.
There came a point when we realized that we had just as much traffic as if we were selling so why the fuck not? It's not like we didn't have the experience and connects and we were already middling for alot of people who couldn't score.
It was fate when our friend/connect Ripper asked us if we would take some of the heat off his place and sell bags for him. It wasn't running our own gig but we got 10 bags for every 20 sold and we sold 'em non-stop. This worked out well until all of Rip's other way stations started getting popped and then he himself got gaffled up. His house was set up big time by the cops but I won't go into that, it would take too long.
So there we were with somewhere around 40+ people copping from us on a regular basis as well as all the ones who had been going to Rip. The shit hit the fan when the dope dried up so Brad looked up an old Prison buddy who was swimming in Tar and would cut us a sweet deal on pieces.He was bringing 'em back across the border himself so it was way below retail. We got hooked up with 28 G's for less than a thou which was pretty damn good.
That house turned into the hottest shop in Bako for a minute. It was non-stop phone ringing and we recruited Frog as a runner to keep traffic down....not that it did. I quit the clinic and concentrated on our new enterprise. We were making so much $$$ 'cause we sold mostly dimes, sometimes big chunks but mostly $10 and $20 bags.
We were able to eat out every day,stay in cigs and beer, shoot as much H as we wanted and amass an impressive collection of electronics. We traded for pills, speed(fuckin Brad!) tattoos and boxes of new outfits. Brad even came up on a car for less than 8 Gs.
It was an idyllic existence, I was still doing phone sex but I hadn't had to cash any of my checks for months, they were piling up in a drawer along with a hell of a lotta surplus cash that I put away for a rainy day.
It was mainly my thing because it had been my $$ that financed it but Brad got a cut for having the hook-up and Casey got his for being my honey and helping out with running bags and collecting cash. Frog was my paid bitch and did everything from make bags to deliveries and even hustled his ass to the store when it was required. Fuck I miss that!
Everything was cool except for the fact that we had CRAZY traffic and it had been going strong for about 8 months. We had people coming through the back alley and we sold out the window after 10pm. It was when Frog mentioned that he thought he was being followed that shit got kinda tense. I took his word for it because even though he was a paranoid motherfucker, he wasn't speed-delusional like Brad.
One day we took our lil junky family to the Green Frog Market to buy some groceries (I was feeling domestic) and Frog says, "Fuck there it is again, that truck was following me all morning!"
We looked around but didn't see anything suspicious, the only thing on the street was a Mother's cookie truck. I was starting to have serious doubts about Frog's paranoia. "Frog, there's nothing here!" I said turning in a circle,"Casey, do you see anything? Brad?"
"Nothing but a cocksucking cookie truck" replied Casey.
"That's it!" grumbled Frog "That fucking cookie truck has been on my ass all day.....I'm NOT fucking around!"
I said the first thing that came to mind, "Are you fucking retarded? This is NOT a Cheech and Chong movie!" Casey echoed the sentiment but I could see that Brad was liking the idea more and more. He had been up for a few days and it suited his mindset perfectly, why not a cookie truck? as far as Brad was concerned that made perfect sense.
We went into the store and when we came out 45 min later the truck was still there. I shushed Frog and we walked back to the house. Cookie truck, yeah right.
*A lil later that day* "Son of a bitch!" Frog came huffing into the room, "I just came back from dropping those bags at Sharky's and that God damned cookie truck is in the alley behind the house! I told you motherfuckers but you wouldn't listen......it's the fucking cops!"
"Calm the fuck down" I told him, "Show me." We went into the back yard and looked over the fence, sure enough, the Mother's cookie truck was parked about half a block down. "Christ" I mumbled, "Are you fucking kidding me? This is the most idiotic thing I have ever been a party to. Are those cops smokin' the rock or what?"
We went back inside and told everyone that we were apparently under surveillance.....by fucktard cops in a lame-ass cookie mobile!
We tried to tone down the traffic but it was next to impossible so we had to all start taking turns running bags just to keep as many fiends away from the house as we could. During that time we were stalked by a ghetto looking delivery van with a fake as hell FEDEX sign in the window, several black windowed SUVs and the infamous cookie truck. By that time in was pretty much a forgone conclusion, we were next on the hit list. Then it escalated, people started getting stopped in our area, getting hassled and threatened if they didn't rat us out. Those cops wanted some controlled buys to go with their surveillance. To top it off Brad's paranoid rantings were starting to become reality, he had been out tweekin off one night and upon investigating the broken down moving van in the lot across the street he found a camera filming the house through a hole cut in a board covering the broken windshield. My house phone was making stupid clicking noises and ringing back my last call every time I hung up.
I started wondering why it was that we were getting so much attention, I mean we were holding a pretty fat sack but it's not like we were the only game in town. We all got pre-paid cells and I only used the land line for work. Only our big custies and close friends were allowed to come to the house anymore. Brad implemented the stupid ear-spy plan. He also packed his ass with the dope whenever he went to pick up. Gross! I know it was necessary but I always made sure that he triple wrapped that shit before it went in his butt......and he got to unwrap it as well! Good thing Brad was institutionalized from way too many years in Prison and had no problem hooping the clavo. YARG!
Anyway we tightened things up as much as we could but the house was still junky paradise, we had boxes of new rigs stockpiled and a gang of 2 liter bottles full of used ones. Spoons...check! Plastic, foil and balloons.....check! Mass amounts of unexplainable cash.....double check! Not to mention all the probably stolen crap we had traded for and my pharmacopoeia of Benzo's, pain pills and antibiotics.
The night before we got hit we saw this shit on TV saying that as of that day the cops no longer needed 6 mos surveillance + 3 controlled buys to get a warrant. All they needed was probable cause. We watched in horror as the TV crew followed the Bakersfield Sheriff's dept all around Oildale while they kicked in doors and arrested tweekers left and right.
We took all our dope and put it a couple of big balloons, the pills in another, the used outfits went into a dumpster a few blocks away (Frog was unthrilled with this errand)and we scrubbed all the dope off our bathroom counter and the various plates and surfaces that we used to bag up on. The foil went into the kitchen along with the plastic bags. The unused rigs stayed put and all we kept out was our own kits. Brad tweeked off and found several forgotten bags under and around the bed and dresser.....we had gotten too comfortable and had been sloppy as fuck!
That whole night Brad kept us up while he tweeked off on the noises coming from that retarded ear-spy speaker, Frog pussed out and went to his parents for the night and it was about 5:30 am before Brad fucked off and left us alone. He was in a bad way and had started to strip his clothes off, gibbering in his Donald Duck voice. It was such a relief when he went outside to wash his car! We had Arron come by to cop before work and Mikey came by for a few bags as well. It seemed like we had no sooner shut our eyes than we heard "Bakersfield Police Department.........open the fucking door!" *Boom, boooooooom......crash*
I vaulted over Casey and off the bed, grabbing the dope/pill balloons and kits on the way, making it into our bathroom just as we heard the front door slam open. I looked at all that dope and hesitated for about 3 seconds before I threw the balloons in the toilet and flushed it! Even in that situation it killed a lil piece of me to let it go.
They had made it as far as the hallway because I could hear Kristen yelling, "It's the PIGS" while Striker (the dog) barked his ass off and Reverie screamed, "What the hell is happening?" I was washing the spoons and breaking rigs when I heard them kick in the bedroom door and yell at Casey to get on the floor. It had only taken a few seconds but it seemed like longer, the toilet was still running and as they kicked in the bathroom door I heard them yell."We have a FLUSH!"......right before they dragged me out and threw me on the floor next to Casey. They were all vested up and the trigger happy motherfuckers punctuated their commands by sliding the pumps on their (overkill!) shotguns. We got knees in our backs while they talked shit and handcuffed us before yanking us up by our arms and dragging us through the hallway. There was this weird white foam all over the walls and floor and it wasn't until they took us into the living room that I realized what it was.
Kristen and Reverie were handcuffed on the couch covered head to toe in white foam, the cops had busted in the door and come in.......with fire extinguishers blazing! HAHAHA they hosed down anyone who crossed their path and that just happened to be Kristen and her mom. Kristen was also totally naked at the time.
I felt this hysterical urge to laugh come over me and tried to stifle it as best I could but when Kristen started fucking with the cops I lost it. They had wrapped her in a sheet to cover her up but she kept wriggling to make it fall open. Let me tell you, Kristen weighed about 220 and had enormous long okie titties....not a pretty picture! She would shrug of the sheet and some disgusted cop would cover her back up. She did it over and over until the task leader came in and threatened to hog-tie her if she didn't stop offending his eyes with her nakedness! At this point I was full out laughing, not giving a fuck anymore, Casey was too. Naked Kristen taunting the cops with " Hey look at this PIG" and "oink oink" was just too damn much. Especially since her and her mom were still covered in chem foam, they looked so ridiculous!
The cops were way uptight and not amused by the fact that their intimidation tactics were failing. After all, the Dope was gone down the pipes and all they had on us was some very clean spoons, broken outfits and boxes of unused rigs. They tried the whole spiel about having us on tape and phone and charging us with felony conspiracy to commit sales but it was an empty threat. They took each of us outside and tried to scare us into giving up the connect(who just happened to cruise by while this was going on)but that didn't work either. As a last ditch effort at catching me with something they called in a female sheriff and I had the pleasure of being finger banged by a dyke with a full on mullet and gropey hands! They actually fucked up when they did that because there was no witness in the room and they are not supposed to penetrate you unless they see something in your snatch.....which she did not. The infamous stinky bank..... their code name for dope in pussy, fucking hilarious!
They trashed the house, dumping food, cosmetics, anything and everything all over the floors. They poured out all the soap and shampoos in the shower on top of our clothes and slashed the mattresses and furniture. They even pulled up the toilet in the bathroom in hopes that they would find the dope,the same thing they did at Rips house. Bastards!
We saw them take Brad to the swat van.....gibbering in nothing but his boxers and one shoe......typical. By this point I was irritated and needed a shot and was anxious to have this whole thing come to it's conclusion, either I was going to jail or not. Decide please! They ended up talking alot of shit, telling us about all their evidence and that someone close to us had ratted us out. They made the comment about 24 hr drive thru service and harassed me about my phone sex log....idiots thought it was a record of H sales. They took all the electronic stuff as evidence and said we were fucked for receiving stolen property. They wanted to take the $$$ as well but couldn't because I had my checks to backup the fact that I had legit income. It was all a joke, they actually had the chance to bust us right in their hands but were too cocky and stupid to realize it.
Frog had left 2 lil foil squares in a pill bottle on the dresser and when they had cuffed us and pulled us to our feet I saw a cop grab it and hold it up to the light. Me and Casey could see those 2 dimes in there, I have no idea why he didn't. They were against the side where the label was and I guess he didn't look too closely......retard! In the end all they did was hand out a bunch of citations for paraphernalia and bitch alot. They threatened us with everything under the sun and even told me that they were biding there time til they could catch me for sales. They wanted me in Prison and a piddling paraphernalia charge was not gonna get me there. You would think I was Pablo freaking Escobar the way they carried on......LAME!
They finally left us to the colossal mess in the house. About 25 min after they pulled away the fiends started calling and trickling in the door. We found out that Mikey had been cuffed naked in their swat van the whole time we were getting raided. They had pulled up next to him while he was happily riding his skateboard back home and snatched him right off it and into the van. He swallowed his bags but they strip searched him anyway. Poor Mikey! We laughed our asses off picturing his skateboard flying through the air as he got dragged into the still moving van.
It took us all day and quite a bit of help(paid of course) to get shit back in order but we were up and running by the next morning.....we were so smart! It took some very slick talk on our part to convince the connect to play with us again, he didn't like the fact that nobody went to jail and I can't say that I blame him. Even Brad walked because they had nothing on him.
We were back in business for another 3-4 months before they hit again and we had a mixed task-force of Sherifs and BPD/ K-net on our asses from that point on but that's another long-ass story and I think this one is prolly enough for now. I told y'all it was gonna take awhile.........
So goodbye for now, hope it was as much of a kick for you to read as it was for me to remember it. I think as far as raids go that one was pretty interesting. Laters Loves, Melody

Sunday, November 30, 2008

I've got 5 4 3 2 1.......and a fascination with sub-standard porn


(Yeah I know they're not red but they still kick ass!)


So it's no big surprise that I'm at home this weekend, I'm still quarantined. Not really but I may as well be. I'm bored and have been falling back on some of my more eccentric forms of self entertainment. No not that kinda self entertainment pervs!
I've been listening to alot of my old records and CDs. Going back to stuff I haven't heard in years. My taste in music is so weird on any given day I can be listening to The Electric Eels one minute and then switch over to Hank Williams and then maybe some Dusty Springfield capped off with Gwar and Softcell. Today it was Crass and Billy Holiday. My stereo is like the world's most fucked up mix tape.
I've always liked Crass but I never really gave a shit about their politics. I'm the least politically involved person I know. I just don't give a fuck about any of it, I'm selfish and could care less about the state of govmt in this or any other country. I don't care how ignorant it sounds, it's the truth. I've been hearing about drastic shit going down in this country for as long as I can remember and I never really had it affect me one way or the other therefor I don't give a fuck. Yeah yeah I know, every person makes a difference blah blah blah whatever.
Anyway, I was listening to Crass- Penis Envy and was reminded once again that my mind works in weird ways.
For instance when I hear Eve Libertine screeching out Bata Motel, I don't think about the (supposed) ongoing repression and objectification of women.....I think about how rad it would be to put on "My red high heels" and have some guy "Drive me fast and crash me crazy" so I can " Rise from the wreckage as fresh as a daisy" and have him "Strap my ankles,break my heels, make me feel, make me kneel...."
Fucked up right? I have a feeling that this was NOT the message Crass was trying to get across. Oh well, it is what it is....not the first time my thought process has been a lil twisted. HAHA is that ever an understatement!
I'm not really a masochist. What appeals to me in theory would NEVER fly in real life. I've gotten my ass beat enough times to know that it's not as fun as it seems even if sex is eventually involved. Gracias Grant, you ruined my chances for a career as a submissive bondage slut!
As for all that safe-word, controlled S&M shit, that just seems retarded to me. A word that makes everyone stop if it hurts too much, where's the fun in that? No follow through, no commitment!
I'm too bitchy and mean to ever be a true submissive anyway, I would just end up turning the tables and brutalizing some poor B&D dork with strap-on sex toys for wasting my time with his stupid plasti-cuffs, and gay leather hoods!
I'm sure you-all really wanted to know that.........that's why I shared.
Another thing I've been doing is indulging my love of really awful low-quality amateur porn. I don't watch it to get off, oh no,no,no! I watch it because it is sooooo bad and soooo ridiculous that it's funny as hell and I can laugh for hours. As far as I'm concerned there are few things better than watching some amateur wannabe pornstar try and look hot while some hairy, fat-assed douchebag is trying drive his penis through the back of her head! Priceless! It's my version of America's funniest home videos and way more entertaining than watching a toddler kick his dad in the nads for the million-th time.
I saw one last night that had me pissing my pants it was so funny. This Paris Hilton look-a-like was giving what may possibly have been the worlds worst blowjob and believe me, I am more than qualified to judge. *snigger*
She was trying hard to look sexy but you could tell that she was so not into it. The guy had a HUGE cock and he kept shoving her head down onto it. She did her best to keep this from happening by wrapping her hands around it but he was relentless. The end result was her with dick so far down her throat that her eyes kept crossing. I shit you not, every time he pushed her down on it the bitch went cross-eyed and blew snot bubbles. It was fucking HILARIOUS and only made better by the fact that she kept trying to say naughty-provocative things while is was taking place.
As close as I could tell, she kept asking, "Do you like that? Is that good?" but it sounded more like, "Ooo ooo ike at?*bluahrg-snort* esh at ooog? *aaack ugh*" Poor stupid thing, looking for approval and reassurance from a jerk-off whose one goal in life is to fuck her stomach through her mouth.
I have no problem laughing at her expense either because just like no one forced me onto the streets no one forced her to suck giant cock in front of a camera. If you submit to letting yourself get fucked six ways from Sunday in some amateur gang bang then I can chortle to my hearts content and not feel bad for one filthy second.
Tis also the season for holiday themed porn, which is another of my hobbies. I love those goofy titles, they are almost better than the movies themselves. "Deck the balls" and my personal Thanksgiving favorite "Humkpin Pie."
I'm really disappointed that they haven't come out with a re-issue of A Clockwork Orgy, a shame really. It's a classic!
Fuck! I cut my finger earlier when I was cooking and it's still oozing! Thanx to those anti-coagulants they pumped into me, I've been bleeding and bruising like a hemophiliac. I look like I have leukemia, there are bruises all over my arms, neck and stomach.
I have been cooking alot as well, just because I have nothing better to do. Between having k1tten call me a domestic slut and Josh whining about the fact that these domestic skills were all but non-existent when I lived with him, I think I may have to lay off the Martha Stuart routine. I am NOT a domestic slut.....I'm imported! HAHA and clever too!
I was watching TV and came to the realization that as far as actual acting goes, I think Bill and Ted's excellent adventure may be the best thing Keanu Reeves has ever done. Am I the only one who thinks his acting is comparable to watching paint dry? A razor blade enema holds more appeal! Sitting through most of his movies is torturous, like watching a man sized puppet being put through the it's paces by a guy with a monotone voice box and zero personality.
Anyway, I have to go smoke now so I will end this convoluted tour through my psyche, I'm not actually this random and scattered in real life.....at least I don't think I am. Hmmmm, something to ponder. I'm normal, it's everybody else that's fucked up. Heh heh, riiiiiight.
Au revoir mon chous, Je t'adore. Melody

Friday, November 28, 2008

What didn't kill me yesterday makes me harder to kill tomorrow



How ironic is it that the day after I posted the fact that I have nothing to bitch about I landed in the hospital? *sigh* Only in my world.
Before I launch into my hospital adventure I wanna thank everybody who sent me messages etc via k1tten and myspace, you guys made me feel so.......loved haha and you know I eat that shit up!
K1tten called the house the same day I was admitted and upon hearing that I was on my deathbed promptly stalked me. It's funny 'cause she actually tracked me down before Casey was able to. He was still trying to force info from the nurse's station while I was blabbing to k. She also spammed me all over blogger to let everyone know I was at death's door which really appeals to my sense of the melodramatic.
Thanx k1tty, you tha best girl!
So on Friday morning I was outside smoking with Casey before he left for work and I was bitching about the fact that my feet had been kinda swollen and ache-y. It was about 40 degrees but I was barefoot and happened to look down.........my feet looked purple and shiny and my toes resembled ready to burst blood sausages. Tasty right?
I pointed this out to Casey who was suitably impressed. I was doing a great job of staying calm until I noticed the black-ish streaks running from my feet and climbing up my calves.
I closed my eyes, whimpered, "Babe, think I need to go to the emergency room" and then smoked like 5 cigs in a row. Anybody who has been a long time Dopefiend knows what black streaks mean and it's NOT good. As long as I have been doing H I have heard tales of the dreaded black streaks and was always hella thankful that I had never experienced them firsthand.
Don't get me wrong, I have had some gnarly abscesses. I even had a few that made me so sick I was sure that they were gonna take me out because I refused to go be butchered at the hands of some "I told you so" E room doctor. I would just trade some smack for antibiotics and suffer though it. I am and have always been disgustingly healthy for someone who has done what I do so I always recovered nicely and continued on my way. Even feverish and puking from infection I always kept a sharp lookout for the black streaks that would indicate blood poisoning and immenent death.
We went to the E-room and I was admitted after about 15 minutes which had to be an indication of my condition but by this time I had come to terms with the situation and was reasonably chill about the whole thing.
They nurse took one look at me and went for the doc. He looked at me and confirmed the fact that I did indeed have blood poisoning and would be spending some time at their mercy. Acute Cellulitis was the actual diagnosis, along with some other shit I can't remember.
I was too busy trying to explain to the nurses that they were so not getting any blood from my arms. As usual they paid me no mind and proceeded to turn me into a pincushion. I kept telling them that they were gonna have to stick my neck but nobody listens to me. Casey was rolling his eyes as he watched them go through the motions of tying me off and feeling around for veins that disappeared long ago, we've been through this before.
One nurse managed to spear a spidery lil sucker on the top of my right hand. I was hoping against hope that it would hold and it did.....for a few minutes. He was using it to run a line into me and before he hooked it up to the bag he pumped me with a shot of morphine. It burned like hell but was worth it for the 30 sec it lasted. Morphine sucks! It also kicked the shit outta that tiny vein and when he plugged in the saline it leaked under the skin and had to be taken out.
While all this was going on the other nurse had been jabbing away at my left hand, going so far as to try and catch the veins on my knuckles. That does not feel nice! I mean I've done worse to myself but for some reason a fat shot is way more appealing than a bag of salt water and therefor worth the ouch. I know, I know......I was really sick and getting a line in me was important, can't help the fact that I think like a junky though.
After coming up empty on both sides one genius nurse pointed out the vein running across the palm of my left hand and through the meaty part under my thumb. No fuckin' way! That shit hurts so bad I could never even get it trough the top layer of skin and believe me I tried!
I told 'em to get fucked but was eventually coerced into going ahead with it. That cunt dug around under my thumb for-fucking-ever and got jack shit! For some reason I let her try again in my palm when what I really wanted to do was take that stupid butterfly and stick it in her fucking eye! She got that one and stole 6 vials of blood from me.................3 minutes before the doc came in with an ultrasound machine and proceeded to put a line in my neck! I don't think I have to point out the irony.
I didn't even feel the needle go in and I got hit with another shot of Morphine as soon as they were done,so it wasn't a total waste.
Casey had to run to work and they moved me to a room in the main hospital. I got hooked up to some super strong IV antibiotic and then had to answer a bunch of stupid questions. My new doc came in, asked me if I was in pain and then promptly prescribed a schedule of IV Dilaudid every 4 hours and Lortab every 6. Oh and Restoril for my fragile nerves. *frail sigh* I may have hammed it up a lil bit.
That first shot of D straight into my neck made me giggle it felt so freakin good! This hospital shit was starting to look up! The Lortab was useless but I took it anyway just on the off chance that it might enhance the D. Even sick as hell I still have my priorities straight! *snicker*
I got to lay in bed, watch TV and nod out which was awesome but I also had to get stabbed in the gut with anti-coagulants 2x a day. They were worried that the line in my neck would throw a clot and cause an aneurysm or something.
While I was there they swabbed me for MRSA and guess what? I was diseased, lucky me, like cellulitis wasn't bad enough! They said it was really common in NM and that it was nothing to worry about and then shoved some kinda gel up my nose 3x a day from that point on.
I made it damn clear that I could get to the bathroom on my own, no catheter for me thank you!
The antibiotic was going in me 24/7 and it was so strong that it made me nauseous. That was compounded by the fact that the food they were trying to force on me smelled like hot barf and looked like wallpaper paste with chunks floating in it. I would rather dine at the county jail for a year than ever have to smell or taste that crap again.
The times they didn't stick around to make sure I was eating I flushed that vomitous shit but sometimes I was obligated to eat some. They wouldn't hit me with the D til I ate.....Nazi's!
At one point they wanted to put in a pic line but I vetoed that noise! You would think that the thought of a semi-permanent sure-shot line would appeal to me but there's something about them threading a catheter up towards my heart that freaks me out. If I had stayed in longer I wouldn't have had a choice, they will only use the same IV site for 4 days before they move to another to avoid infection.
Casey was smuggling in candy and McDonald's and I was sneaking onto the balcony to smoke. I mean I had to smoke after I got my shot of D but dragging that IV shit around was a pain in my ass!
Casey reminded me of his last hospital stay in Bako, when I came to visit every day and was shooting H into his IV the whole time. We just had to keep our fingers crossed that the nurse wouldn't notice the brown cloudy shit in his line. HAHA I'm such an awesome junky girlfriend! He said he would have returned the favor but A) we had no H and B) I was getting loaded enough already. True but how loaded is loaded enough?
So that's pretty much it, on the 4th day I bid farewell to my friend Dilaudid and did my damnedest to convince the doc to release me. My feet were almost back to normal and the horrid black streaks were just faint shadows that were rapidly fading.
I really didn't want that pic line!
I got out Monday night and came home with scrips for Augmentin, Bactaban gel and Lortab. If all goes well I should be disease free by the end of the cycle. My blood work came back clean for everything which is a miracle in itself. I'm still kinda amazed that I never picked up Hep or HIV, Christ knows I had enough chances, just lucky I guess.
The Lortabs were supposed to last 2 weeks but are GONE, what a fucking surprise. They are worse than useless but as I said before, the druggie in me takes them just in case they might work. I'm still waiting on that!
I'm sorry it took so long for me to post and let y'all know I had not kicked off just yet. That Augmentin makes me pukey so I have been laying on the couch watching TCM and snarfing down sour bears. I'm not malingering......not really.
I've told Casey that there might be a chance that I have to go back if the Aug. doesn't work. He told me if that happened he would probably lose his job and have a nervous breakdown. I didn't realize how worried he was until I came home. He told me that he hated that I was gone and that the house was weird without me. My being sick really wrecked him, he actually got a little pale when I mentioned going back.
There's nothing quite like knowing your honey would miss you if you died, especially considering the fact that I have done shit that left some of my ex's willing to commit human sacrifice on the off chance I might expire. HAHA good luck with that fuckers *smug smirk* I'm too much of an asshole to die. The world needs me!
So now I have one more reason to hate New Mexico, this wasteland managed to do what 10 + years of living in and out of junky squalor did not. For whatever reason all the I time spent in filthy squats, shooting galleries, motel rooms and jail never touched me. A little over a year in NM, alot of that time clean and I get diseased! NM mud is apparently toxic and carries cooties, go figure.
I love you guys and didn't mean to leave anyone in suspense, thanx again for all the well wishes etc. It really did help.
I won't say much to the haters who are gnashing their teeth at my recovery, just this, "Too bad,,,,,,,,,HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA"
Ciao for now kids, (a slightly less diseased) Melody Lee
P.S. Hope y'all like the pic, I woulda made a damn fine zombie!

Thursday, November 20, 2008

2 Minutes you'll never get back....................

I have been so fucking lazy this week, I mean I'm always lazy but this time I really outdid myself. I've been laying around the house doing no-thing! Although I have managed to drag my lethargic ass into the shower regularly the fact that I've been wearing the same grungy black flag shirt for days kinda cancels out any attempts to maintain cleanliness.I don't care, fuck it. I'll change tomorrow...........maybe.
I think I'm getting too old to be going on speed binges, I could do that shit all day everyday when I was a kid but now...............apparently I'm an old broad who can't handle her shit. C'est la vie.
I don't have anything especially earth-shattering to share with y'all today but then again, when do I ever? I was thinking about typing out the "raid" story but......... I'm tiiiiiiired. HAHA I don't think I know anybody besides myself who can be totally exhausted after a long day of doing nothing. Being this useless is hard work!
I came across my old friend Turkey via Regina on myspace, I'm a myspace loooooooser. So sad.......
Anyway he's still the same old fuckface, he's living in Colorado somewhere and I was surprised to realize I actually miss that fool! We thought he was dead, having heard from some traveling squatters that he had OD'd and been found in a dumpster. Knowing Turkey the way we did, it wasn't hard to believe. I'm glad he's not dead and from what I've heard he's doing better so yay Tracy (Turkey).
I need to buy a car! I've been spending too much$$ on useless shit when I should be saving it for my trip to Eugene. I really don't need anymore shoes or clothes or records or whatever.
Blaaaah....BORING! I bet y'all are even now regretting your decision to come here and read my update, there's 2 minutes you'll never get back.
Dr. Finch....I'm blocked!
I find myself thinking that I wish my life was like a Wes Anderson movie, where everybody is fucked-up but it only makes you like them more and they cruise through life backed by an awesome soundtrack.
Am I feeling sorry for myself? Is that what this is?
Fuck a buncha that shit, I am so not gonna throw myself a pity party! I have nothing to piss and moan about anyway, I have a decent house, I have money, a crazy moody boyfriend that loves me.........if I heard me complaining I'd kick my ass!
I'm gonna go force myself into the shower now and I may even put on a clean shirt. After I re-gain my usual snarky good attitude I'll come back and post something a little more amusing........Christ, I'm such a blog-whore. Loves you bitches, Melody

Monday, November 17, 2008

More random pics


Me and Regina at fisherman's wharf pre-shaved head era, obviously still in our skater phase, check those huge clothes we have on.

Me passed out at the Savoy after a loooong New Years Eve, Christ, how many giant T-shirts did I own?

Cameron, Regina, Barfnana and Ron B.

Regina and Brandi somewhere in downtown Bako

Sunday, November 16, 2008

My boring update and a tale of past Nazi antics

So it's late and cold and I'm staying in tonight despite the fact that I did get a call earlier. No spegakked road trips for Melody....not this weekend! It's taken me this long to get back to normal (as normal as I get) and I'm not in any hurry to fuck that up. My H is also all gone so without that to look forward to I'd rather not get wired at all. Then again I may do it just to spite myself, one never knows with me.
Since someone pointed out that my blog description was a bit garbled I decided to change it. Rather than re-word the whole thing I just put up a quote. I was too lazy to do much else and it is a great quote. I wish I could say that it's my motto but I'm too argumentative to stick to it. Arguing can be a form of explanation after all and I LIVE to argue.
Anyway, I could go into a detailed description of my boring weekend but I won't, I'll save y'all the experience.
I saw a commercial for some kind of hearing aide/amplifier and it made me think about something that NLR Brad did. We were living at Kristen's and I was selling, it was me, Casey, Frog, Brad and Ron. Brad was one of these people who had to do speed w/ his H, we called it a goofball. I don't care for it but Brad wouldn't have it any other way. Essentially the speed would cancel out the H and he would be well but tweeked. He was technically a heroin addict but he never really got loaded because of the speed.
He used to get super paranoid and do all kinds of weird shit, after a week or so of being up he would start to talk in an annoying Donald Duck voice and strip down to his boxers right before he crashed. For some reason I would always find him in his underwear muttering Donald-speak with only one shoe on. One shoe on every fucking time!
Anyway, we had been having alot of drama with the cops, they were constantly cruising by the house and stopping people as they left, trying to catch somebody holding. They followed us to the store and anywhere else we went and it was pretty obvious that they were gonna hit us soon.
So one day Ron comes racing into the room and he's laughing and shaking his head, he had gone to the store with Brad to get some foil and Brad had found something that caught his interest. I was trying to get info out of a giggling Ron when Brad comes in and announces that he has the solution to our impending raid dilemma. Casey, Frog and I were all ears, we had been trying to figure out something that would buy us some time once the cops were closing in.
So we watched as Brad pulled out 5 little plastic toys, a roll of speaker wire and some electrical tape. Mystified I looked to Ron who just shook his head and looked away smiling. Mr. NLR had launched into a tweek induced explanation that took way too long and made absolutely NO sense. I tried to get a clear answer but after about 20 minutes of nothing but convoluted tweek speak Frog yelled out, "He wants to use the toys as a ghetto surveillance system!" Frog was better at deciphering tweeker than the rest of us.
I took one of the toys and lo and behold it was a 50 cent ear spy, the kind you get out of a candy machine. He had 5 of these things and quickly recruited Frog, Casey and Ron to help him with his project.
The help involved belly crawling through the yard laying wire (because the cops might be watching and surely they wouldn't notice 4 dipshits slithering through 3 inch grass)and then placing the ear spies at various intervals around the yard. I sat in the house and laughed at them while yelling disparaging comments out the window.
After they were done, Brad wired it all up to some headphones and proceeded to tweek off on every little noise. It sounded like shit by the way, all you could hear was cars driving by and birds chirping.
Needless to say it didn't work the way it was supposed to(shocking I know) and the morning we got hit the only thing heard (it was wired to a speaker by then)was crickets chirping and Brad gibbering Donald-speak while he washed his car in the backyard......in his boxers with one shoe on. *sigh*
That particular raid is a story in itself, it was funny as hell! All I can say is we musta been pretty jaded to find it as amusing as we did. I'll have to tell y'all about it sometime.....as if anybody cares. Fuckin' BPD is always good for a laugh.
Pretty random post. I guess I'm still a lil burned out, like that time I did too much coke and nitrous and forgot how to tie my shoes for a week. Wow, that sounds bad, even to me.
I guess that's enough for now, I'll leave y'all to your own devices. Happy Sunday kids, XOXO Melody

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Sunday night......KC lights not optional


As per a special myspace request I've attempted sleep and have dragged my ass to the computer to bang out the tale of the crystal fiasco. UGH, I still feel like crrrrraaaap! I passed out sometime this morning....finally and had maybe 5 hours of sleep. Sorry about the phone k1tten, I left it.......somewhere and didn't hear it.
Fuck it's cold.........
Sunday night:

The phone rang for like 15 minutes before I answered it, Casey was in bed and I was watching Entourage so it was probably around 10pm....11pm? Something like that, the voice blaring out at me was that of the meth monster. What followed was possibly the most complex convo ever.

Rainman: "Whatcha doin?"
Me: "Watching Entourage."
Rainman: "Gonna come get you, tell your old man you're heading out."
Me: "Nope."
Rainman: "He asleep?"
Me: "Yup"
Rainman: "Leave him a note and get ready."
Me: "Uh uh."
Rainman: "What'cha got something better to do?"
Me: "Jeremy Piven."
Rainman: "Who? Tell that guy to get fucked, we're going for a drive."
Me: *snort-mumble*
Rainman : "Get ready, I'm getting in the car right now."
Me: "No."
Rainman: "Be there in twenty..."
Me: "N...no."
Rainman: "I'll honk...."
Me: "No."
Rainman: "In twenty." *click*
Me: "Hello? FUCK!!!"

He did NOT answer when I called back....tweekin' bastard! I knew if I didn't get ready he'd wake up the whole street with his stupid honking and then probably come pound on the door and wake up Casey too. Some people obviously can't take no for an answer.
It was so freakin' cold I put on jeans and a thermal shirt and grabbed my hoodie. I ended up taking this stupid long leather coat that is HUGE! It's seriously like 2 whole cows and it looks all Matrix. L-A-M-E!
Anyway it seemed like he took longer than twenty minutes but that might be because I was in a foul mood and feeling uncharitable. When he pulled up he was driving one of his project cars, some lowered junker with a furry gold interior that was covered in bondo/primer. Disco tweeker mobile.... fucking brilliant! All that car needs are plates that say "ARRSTME* to be complete. It's a rolling cop magnet, especially after 10pm on a Sunday night.
As soon as I opened the door I got knocked back by the smell of speed and hot glass. That fool was hitting his pipe right in front of the house! I wouldn't really mind but for the fact that there are two(count 'em) FPD cocksuckers that live not five houses away from me. New Mexico cops are pretty thick but COME ON!
I got in the car and slumped down in the seat, pissed to be out in the cold and none too enthused about the pipe being shoved in my face. I musta said "fuck off" 5 times......before I took it. Haha, I'm no pushover.
After a couple hits I was feeling tons friendlier so I asked where we were going and got a sideways smirk for my trouble.
"T' pick up a car."
That's all he would say so I busied myself with the pipe and took the wheel occasionally so he could hit it too. Fuck it right? I was already stuck so why not go all out.
We drove for about 15 min heading out on one of the various dirt roads that surround this shit town. Rainman pulled into what looked like a truck yard. There was a rusty double wide hidden behind all the equipment.....SHOCKER!
We got out and he had me run up to the door to get keys. When the door opened it was my old friend Gabby aka torebackula aka the rabid bitch that bit me. That dump smelled like ether and dog farts, stellar combo. I rolled my eyes, held out my hand and said, "Keys." I can convey more with an eye-roll than most people can with a whole speech.
She stared at me like a stupid heifer (my sincerest apologies to cows the world over)and then spun around and went into the bowels(haha) of the dog fart trailer. I'd be damned if I was gonna go after her,it fucking stunk in there! I went back to the car where Rainman was digging through the trunk. I was just in time to see him pull what looked alot like a gun from behind his back and stash it in the trunk......@%*&#@%*!FUCK!
I'm not gun phobic unless I happen to be traveling with a person known as the meth savant. I don't call him that for no reason, he's a dipshit and I'm a bigger dipshit for letting myself get embroiled in another one of his schemes. Lets not forget that this is the same genius who thought it would be a super idea to give 19 yr old Richie and Eric a couple balls of cryssy.......TO SELL! The same shit they later got popped for.
Anyway, I made it clear that I would walk home(ugh) if he didn't rid himself of any and all firearms. I was so not up to getting jailed for traipsing around with an armed felon who is also absconding from parole, the both of us wired as fuck with God knows how much speed in our possession.
He assured me he was gun free and asked for the keys, a smart assed smile on his dopey face. I informed him that Miss Torebackula had fled into stinky recesses of the hell trailer. He laughed and said that was because she was scared.
Scared? Of me? I can't imagine why that is.
He said it's because I made her into a snaggle-puss. What the fuck? Apparently it happened sometime during our little disagreement. It musta been while she repeatedly rammed her face into my fist that she chipped her front tooth on my ring. Not my fault.
He went after the keys himself (brave soul) and came out laughing because Gabby had barricaded herself in the bedroom and had shoved the keys under the door. What a cooze!
We walked behind the trailer and climbed into a big-ass truck, complete with KC lights and tool bed. This shit was just getting better and better. He said we were gonna use the crane on the back to..........retrieve something.
At this point I was wishing that Rainman had blown himself up long before we had the chance to cross paths. Not that I'm saying he would have any reason to be in a meth lab explosion, it's just some random scenario I pulled outta my ass.
I don't really know where we went because it was dark and everything looks the same in this wasteland. It had been raining that week so it was muddy and Rainman was driving like a retard. That stupid truck was sliding all over the place, making it extremely difficult for me to smoke my speed with any degree of confidence.
On the way he filled me in on Eric and Richie but that's a story for another time. We got where we were going(BFE) and he got out and turned on some spotlight thingie and started sweeping it around. I was not thrilled to find out that we were in some mud pit on the most godforsaken patch of earth ever created (besides Vegas).In the dark no less. Perfect!
He found what he was looking for because he came and tapped on the window and said he needed help. I climbed outta the truck and promptly ate shit, landing on my ass in the mud, luckily that queer leather coat was between me and the ground. I did however get mud all over my hands and feet (my green chucks are currently brown).
He had me hold a flashlight while he fucked with the crane, it took me a minute to realize that the spotlight was shining on a muddy lump of metal. Looking closer I saw that it was a car buried halfway in mud and tipped at a funny angle like it was in a ditch. Brilliant! I can only surmise that some moron was driving that car out there in the rain when one of those oh-so-famous flash floods hit and wiped him out into a ditch. I had a pretty good idea who that moron was too, he was standing to my left fucking with crane controls.
I had a bit of a shock when I realized that said moron was preparing to boom the crane all the way out to lever the car outta the mud. Idiot! We were flailing around in calf-deep sludge and this fool was gonna get us stuck or worse. Explaining the situation took way longer than it should have because for some reason Rainman couldn't grasp the concept. I think he finally gave up trying and took my word for it. He went for the winch instead. I woulda said fuck it and come back when it was dry but he had to do it right then....of course.
Flash forward to Rainman sliding (in the mud) under the car and "retrieving" something. I had no desire whatsoever to know what was taped in that package but I could imagine. I was not happy, he on the other hand was whistling he was so pleased with himself......dimwit!
"OK" he said, "Lets go."
I asked him what he was gonna do about the car.
"Leave it, it won't come back to me anyway"
It's things like that that make me wonder how it's possible that the same individual can be so smart in one sitch yet so stupid in another. He truly is a meth savant.
We drove back to his place and after disappearing into the bedroom for a few he came back with a plate. On top of this plate was some cryssy, a new point and a spoon. Haha Rainman just went up in status. I needed something to perk me up anyway, I was felling a little limp and the pipe wasn't doing it for me no more. I banged a shot that was likely too much and after I was able to breathe again I hit him up for some clothes and a shower. I felt so much better afterwards even though I was wearing camouflage pants and a Slayer T-shirt.
I made it home that morning sometime after 10am and proceeded to do jack shit besides shoot the rest of the cryssy R-man gave me for tagging along. By Monday night I was a wreck and finally busted out the H so I could get some relief. It lasted about as long as it took for me to write my previous post and smoke a cigarette. Before I knew it the speed in my system ate up all the H and I was back where I started. UGH!
I spent most of Tuesday morning online plotting a trip to Oregon and finally passed out sometime last night. Never again! I always say that but maybe this time I'll stick to it....maybe.
So that's it, I finally got it out, hope it was worth the wait Rufus. Tune in next time for a Richie update and possibly a war story if I'm feeling up to it. For the first time in a long time I'm looking forward to a boring week so I doubt there will be much to write about but one never knows with me. Love from muddy New Mexico, Melody