Sunday, August 31, 2008

This is your brain on drugs


So I actually wrote this last night and after reading it I have decided that it is an excellent example of why meth should be avoided at all costs. I feel like I got hit by a truck! I will 'JUST SAY NO' the next time speed is offered, although the sex was awesome. I'm sure it will take a loooooong time for me to forget this miserable comedown enough to actually do it again. A couple of weeks at least. HAHA, laugh fuckers, it's funny. Enjoy my speed induced diarrhea of the brain. The following is based on a true story.



This is going to be very long and very involved as I am still wired from last night (and this morning and this afternoon.......... and maybe an few hours ago). That's right friends, I gave in and did some speed. Speed is such a antiquated term, every time I say it people are like 'You talkin about ice?' Yeah I am........ or crystal or glass or even crank although it's been years since I actually came across some plain old fashioned crank. Give it all the fancy names you want it's still just speed. I don't want to get any shit from people correcting me either, yes I do know the difference between amphetamines and methamphetamine.
First off, Richie showed last night. He had the good sense to bring his friends Samantha and Eric with him. It looks so much better when Casey comes in and sees I'm not the only pair of tits in the room. Not to state the obvious but they had a little over an 8 ball of crystal on them and I let myself be persuaded.
We set up camp in the back room. I have everything a tweeker could possibly want back there plus I am currently covering the walls, doors and ceiling in posters, records, stickers ect. so it's the quintessential tweek project room.
They were already pretty spun but Eric cut lines for everyone, you gotta love that taste! After about ten minutes of serious drainage and probably a whole a pack of smokes Sammi pulled out her pipe and we started passing that around.
I am not a huge fan of meth but once I start smoking I am relentless! Instead of tweeking off on writing shit or cleaning or some other project I geek out on the pipe. If I'm not actively smoking it then I am wiping it on my jeans or holding it up to the light to find the best hits or even just holding it.
Anyway I could feel my pipe obsession coming on so I went in the backyard to catch my breath. My scalp was/is all tingly and I could/can feel my heart hammering in my chest. Chain smoking in order to keep myself occupied I sat out there for I don't know how long. Richie came out to get me because they decided to amuse themselves by hanging shit on the walls and needed my expert direction.
Next time I looked at the clock it was after 5 am. I was starting to wilt a bit, even though we had been hitting the pipe almost non-stop. Eric asked if he could use the bathroom and I noticed that he took his back pack with him. I lurked outside the door and heard the distinct sound of spoon hitting tile. I gave it a second and then heard the unmistakable tap tap of someone flicking a rigg. When he finally came out and saw me standing there he started to apologize but I just smiled and said,'I won't tell if you don't" and pushed him back into the bathroom. He looked a little confused until I reached under the sink and pulled out a new point.
After doing a shot that left me gasping for air I felt considerably better than before. We were runnin at the mouth for a few minutes, him asking me how long I had been IVing and me asking him the same. It turns out that a member of Eric's family was a pretty serious meth head/dealer and he not only turned Eric on to the cryssy but onto the needle as well.
We must have been in there for an hour because Richie came knocking on the door asking what was going on. I think he thought we were fucking or something because he sounded all pissy. I looked out the window and saw that the sun was starting to come up. Not thinking, I opened the door and hustled us all back into the room, Casey was gonna be up soon. I sat on the couch and put my feet up on Richie's lap, not realizing that I had a streak of dried blood going down my right foot.
Richie saw it and thought I had cut myself on something. He had my ankle in a death grip, looking for the source of the blood. Eric got all edgy and scared but I gave him a look and shook my head. Sammi was looking up at us from the floor and by the expression on her face I could tell she knew what was up. Yanking my foot out of Richie's hands I stood up and led him outside, mouthing 'Don't worry' to Eric on the way out. I wasn't gonna tell on him, I was gonna tell on myself.
I sat him down on the swing and just spilled all about my past and present use of needles. I was so fucking spun I couldn't have shut up if I wanted to. I fibbed a bit and told him that I had taken Eric aside and asked him to hook me up with enough to do a shot. I said nothing about Eric besides that. It was me and me alone.
He took it pretty well, seeming almost fascinated by every detail as it revealed it. He was still questioning me when Casey came out to smoke. He took one look at us and said, "I'm not even gonna ask, just save me some for when I get off work." He gave me a kiss and walked back in the house mumbling something about jail bait and well deserved ass-kicking. Richie looked decidedly uncomfortable. I patted him on the head and went back inside.
After seeing Casey off to work I checked in on my little friends, they had put up everything! The walls and ceiling were covered. Sammi was even sewing pillow covers for me out of some leopard print fabric I had laying around. Impressive, I would never have done anything so productive.
Things got weird a little later on because me and Eric were conspiring to do another shot but Richie was clocking every move we made. I could do it but Eric was fucked unless he wanted to out himself. When we had a moment alone I told Eric to dish me out a little go powder and I would fix up right there in the room. With Richie busy watching me, he could go do his thing in the john. It worked, Richie couldn't take his eyes off me and Eric was able to sneak off.
The usual meth activities followed, I sat and talked with Eric, Richie played DJ on the stereo and Sammi started to clean the house. I gotta have that girl over more often!
Eric was whispering to me, telling me why he didn't want Richie to know he was a hype. I found out that Richie's mom was a total psycho meth monster and that she sent him to live with his grandma a few years back. I guess he had to look after her alot. Coincidentally she also used needles, giving Richie ample reason to dislike them.
Being that Eric is his best friend, he doesn't want that shit to come between them. He said it was really strange that Richie didn't go off when I told him because he had seen it happen before with other people.
This has me worried! I don't like the fact that he acted so interested when I told him and when I was doing it. I may be a morally bankrupt drug addict but I don't turn on little kids to the exciting world of shooting hard drugs. They can go elsewhere and figure it out. I didn't care so much when I was 16/17 but at that time I barely knew what I was doing so it didn't seem to be a big deal if one of my friends wanted to try it. It's different now, I am barely able to hold myself responsible for me, I can't possibly take on others too.
I promised Eric that I would keep his secret and also stay quiet about the info on Richie's family. He hooked me up with a fat little stash, I guess he had some apart from what they had busted out originally. Niiiiice!
They left just before Casey got home, around 6:30. I hit Casey with a shot that had him coughing and we've spent the last few hours having a meth fueled fuck fest. Sex on meth is fun! He is now in the garage taking apart his drum set, trying to locate the cause of a mysterious rattle that only he can hear. Fuckin' tweeker!
I have enough left for another shot for each of us and then it's comedown city, what fun. At least Mindy isn't here, watching her gnaw on her cheek would be too fucking much to bear.
I'm gonna go now because if I don't this will turn into the longest post in blogger history, no joke! I'll have to tell the Josh drama later, when I am a little less amped, Josh baby, you get a pass for now. Melody

Friday, August 29, 2008

Shit changes......shit stays the same and the ugliest most perfect shoes to date


So it's going on 3 weeks since the last time I had any H and it has been surprisingly easy. I haven't been fiending out like I was before and I was even able to watch Drugstore Cowboy without flinching. How's that for some fucking progress!
All that said, I would not say no if someone happened to have some. I am a dyed in the wool junky, just because I'm not currently jonesing doesn't mean I wouldn't enjoy getting high. The only reason I've gone this long is due to my 'friend' experiencing a dry spell, so even though this hiatus has been good for me it was by no means intentional on my part.
I have been smoking weed and taking some pills, a little booze too. Not every day though. I went out last night when I should have kept my ass in the house, even though Casey has been seemingly cool about the situation, I don't wanna press my luck. I was good all week until last night.
I drank more Tequila than I thought humanly possible and actually showed some common sense when I turned down some somas. Normally Booze + somas= one hell of a good time. Somehow in my alcoholic delirium, I determined that if somas were introduced into the equation, overdose was imminent.
Pill/booze overdose is messy and treatment is unpleasant, it is generally a pain in the ass for all involved. So glad I was able to spare Richie and Co. the hassle. Maybe there is hope for me yet. Best not get too excited over that prospect, knowing myself the way I do I would say reform is unlikely.
So my friend was teasing me about Richie, calling me Mrs. Robinson. He asked me why I was doing all that shit in the first place. He knows that I am not seriously interested in anyone besides Casey. I told him that I like the attention, that in some ways it made me feel special.
He said, "Special, hmm isn't that another word for retarded?"

Smartass!

I said,"I'm not retarded, I'm exceptional!" to which he replied, "Hmmm, I think you mean exceptionally retarded."
I almost choked on my peach ring when he said that, even I have to admit it was a brilliant comeback. I love bitchy gay guys, they are so much fun to bullshit with. I always had more guy friends than girlfriends ( I can't imagine why?) but my gay guy friends were always the most fun to hang out with. Peter is so fucking catty, I love it. I could listen to him talk shit all day.
Anyway it was decided that maybe I was more short bus 'special' than princess 'special'. I won't argue with that, not too much anyway. I'm not stupid though, I just make abominable decisions.
Peter says I have a weak moral fiber and that I am a walking disaster but I redeem myself through my ability to make and keep friends and by not taking myself too seriously. I'm not sure if this was a compliment seeing how there was all that stuff about disastrous morals and such but I'll take it as one.
I hate to say it because it sounds really bad but the fact that Casey is so OK with me kickin' it with Richie and crew has taken alot of the flavor out of it. I am indeed a contrary bitch.
Frailty, thy name is woman!
It is Friday night and Casey has to work tomorrow, he's already asleep. Richie came up the alley earlier and tapped on the back door. asking if I wanted to hang out. I felt strangely apathetic about the whole thing. I told him he could come back around midnight and we could kick back here. I'm kinda hoping that if he does he will bring some of his cronies because even though he has been the epitome of respectfulness( as far as post adolescent groping is concerned), he still brings up things that are better left unsaid. I don't really wanna hear about what he wants to do to/with me. There is no point to it. It doesn't make me uncomfortable or anything but I can tell he starts to get carried away and continuous frustration is not good for anyone. It tends to build up til there is nothing to be done but let it come raging out. Seeing as how I would probably be the recipient of all this repressed feeling I think it's best to avoid it all together.

NO DIRTY TALK!

Sounds pretty ridiculous coming from me, a girl who spends a large portion of her week doing just that.
On a side note, I bought the tackiest, most hideous,absolutely perfect shoes! I posted a pic because they have to be seen in order to be fully appreciated. The pic is from the site I bought them from because the cell-cam has been forbidden me. I was caught taking a pic of Richie and friends (to post here) and as it is Casey's work phone, he was not amused. Pictures were deleted and I am banned from his phone.
It's almost 12 and the neighbors dogs are going ape shit, so I better cut this off I think I may have some visitors. Thank you and goodnight!


Monday, August 25, 2008

Cockroaches, speed and blasphemy......a pretty full week.

I don't think that there is anything quite as disgusting as stepping on a big fat cockroach barefooted in the dark. This was the highlight of my evening. I can safely say that the noise it made is not something I will soon forget, like a mushy pop, eeeewww fuckin' nasty! After I disinfected my foot for like an hour, I went back outside, this time with the lights on and viewed the carnage . Melody 1, roach 0. Gross!
Anyway, I have been busy doing my usual assortment of nothing mixed with a little questionable behavior and a large portion of who cares anyway.
I went on an adventure with Richie a couple of nights ago and it was as if I had been magically transported back to my freshman year in high school. Loud, drunk/stoned/spun people everywhere I looked. I showed surprising restraint when I was offered some crystal. However I am only human, I smoked ALOT of weed and took some somas, had some beer a couple of tequila shots. It was a dreamy kinda night.
I had a ridiculous confrontation with some tweeker slag that took offense at my shirt. I have to tell you about my shirt! I got the idea from a convo/e-mail I had with Shelley a few weeks back. We were talking about uptight people and I said something about nuns blowing Jesus and a t-shirt. Presto! I am a brilliant attention slut! After some creative computer imaging and a trip to the silkscreen shop, I am now in possession of a shirt that says "Devout Catholic" and features a nun blowing Jesus. You can see how that might be offensive to some people. I think it's funny as fuck but I have been told that I am a little off so maybe I'm wrong.
Anyway, she got all irate saying that it was sacrilegious and that I was going to hell and that I would have to answer for my sins before God Blah, blabity, blah. Tell it to someone who gives a fuck!
She was so wired it was like watching and listening to a spun weasel (she looked like a rodent) if spun weasels could talk. Even though I was pretty fucked up I was still able to destroy her with a few smart-assed retorts, delivered with my usual flair of course. Melody 1, princess torebackula 0.
Richie behaved himself, it was kinda sweet. He stayed with me all night and kept his hands to himself, acted protective anytime some other guy got too chummy and wouldn't let me spend any money. If I was a little more naive I might be inclined to believe it was genuine. I think it's probably the next weapon in his impressive "How to score pussy" arsenal. I'm impressed anyway, and flattered but I suppose that is part of the plan as well, make me feel special so I let my guard (and panties) down. Maybe next time.
I told Casey that I had a "friend" that I had been hanging out with. He knows it is "the kid" but seems confident that I will not do anything I shouldn't. Wow, I am dumbfounded by his faith in me, I don't think I deserve it but just knowing that he's trusting me will probably keep me in line. Sneaky fucker, I'm sure that was his plan all along.
He doesn't know about my call from Cali yet and I think I'll keep mum til I know what I'm gonna do, no use getting him all pissed over nothing. He is being really understanding lately, makes me wonder if he's slipping arsenic in my Pepsi. I would think he was fucking around if he actually had the time but he works too much. He comes home smelling like oilfield dirt, not perfume and pussy. The Russian thing would be too much though, he had some run ins with 'the brother' and they were unpleasant to say the least so yeah, I'll keep my mouth shut about that.
AAAAAHHH I get to see The Damned and Jerry and Hollywood! Sorry, I can't help it. Three of my favorite things on my favorite night, Halloween! I love Jerry he is such a cutie! We are gonna have a blast!
Things are going so well, too well. I will probably get mowed down by a runaway garbage truck tomorrow. HAHAHA, talk about takin' out the trash! Kisses from me to you , Melody

Friday, August 22, 2008

Damned on Halloween

I can't believe I actually forgot this yesterday! It just goes to show how preoccupied I was with commies on the brain. I am going to Hollywood to see The Damned in October! Casey has to work so that's crappy but I have friends I can meet up with and even if I didn't I would go anyway, it's The fucking Damned. Ahhhh so excited! I wasn't planning a trip to Cali til December but plans change right? I can't think of a better way to spend Halloween than in L.A. seeing one of my favorite bands. That's all.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Better dead than red.........

It's funny how I pick and choose what I write and where I'm gonna post it. I'm not trying to hide anything it's just that I don't want to get any shit from the people who know me. I don't care if they know about my drugs or personal life, that I could give a fuck about. It's the little things, like Russians and trips to Mexico that get them up in arms. My friend Tiny (whose knowledge of world cultures is limited to say the least) once said to me, "Melody, if you don't cut out that shit with the Russians the next time we see you is gonna be on CNN in one of those head to toe black things, walking ten feet behind some Cossack in Moscow."
Fucking Tiny, mixing Muslim and backwoods Russian orthodox and God knows what else. It does make for an amusing picture though, I know I laughed a good while after he said that.
The thing about the Russians is they have alot of $$$$$$. They spend it like water and there is always some criminal-type drama going on. Irresistible to a danger junky like me, it makes me feel like I am living in a bad movie, surrounded by ugly jogging suits( the sterotype is true) and bad taste in music. But they also pay very well.
I met The Russian on the trips to and from court when I was in jail (he was in the fed penn next to pre-trial). He was really cute, had a irresistible accent and he really did have eyes like a Siberian husky, so pale they are almost white. Freaky but sooo attractive. Anyway, as we were going back and forth to court we got to know each other a bit. Funny how well you can get to know someone through steel mesh..
He was doing time because his younger brother had done something stupid( that I will refrain from mentioning) and He was taking care of it. I will mention that this something stupid was causing my new friend to look at some seriously hard time. I asked him why his brother couldn't ride his own beef and was told that he was too crazy and stupid to stay alive in prison. Not really fair but it made sense I suppose, anyway I started getting letters from the brother telling me that he had been told to help me when I got out. I didn't ask too many questions, figuring it would come to nothing but I started to get money on my books every week. Again I didn't question it, hell why would I? $$$ is $$$!
When I got my fed cap kick I was met by the infamous brother and learned that the Russian behind bars had a job op for me. Again I will skip the details because I am not a complete idiot. I got a Jeep 4/4 a cell phone some cash and a GPS thing-y. Not bad for someone who got released from county the previous day.
I will say it now, I was not a mule, so any smart-asses out there can kill that thought immediately. I made trips in and out of Mexico with the brother and a few of his associates til I got my bearings and then continued on my own, my ability to speak Spanish was a plus and I have a half assed knowledge of Russian and German so it helped alot.
Things got strained when Casey came back in the picture. He does NOT like the Russians. Also the brother was getting a little touchy feely and possessive . Just when it was about to get really ugly the Russians lost their Mexico contact to the law and shit went underground. I gave the Jeep and phone back and resumed my care-free junky life, thousands $$ richer and with really cool stories to tell.
I had some contact when the brother kidnapped me into a rehab last summer(it lasted 3 days) but that was it until I get a call from Patty saying "The communist" (what I used to call him) was looking for me , asking around. After a brief call to Patty I now have a # in my posses ion that will put me in direct contact with the brother. As if I wasn't conflicted enough already, my decisions are for shit and I will always choose the wrong thing, just to spite myself I think.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Love......... and communists in Tijuana

Casey has proven his worth once again, he does that occasionally. I'm just talkin' shit, he is marvelous, fabulous, irreplaceable!
Last night we drove out into the desert and just sat. It was nice, listening to music just relaxing. I will admit that the desert is pretty at night. The sky looks so big here and you can actually see the stars. In Cali there is too much smog, all the stars are on Hollywood blvd. I love smog! I love driving into L.A and breathing in the pollution, you get a head change and it's like you know you're in the city. Beautiful!
Anyway, we talked about all kinds of shit, our life here, plans for the future. It was a very grown up sort on conversation. He doesn't really like it here either but his job is way to good and we are so secure that it would be suicide to abandon it. I know all this, I am not a moron. My problem is that I thrive on chaos and I seem to be going about creating my own since there is none readily available.
He asked me about the other night when I came home all stoned and I told him where I was. He was amazingly calm about the whole thing which was a little scary at first because sometimes he does that before he loses it. He just told me that he believed me when I said that I had been good. Oh and that if I did happen to let that kid (I didn't tell him his name) get his way things might get ugly. I suppose that isn't a surprise, it's what I've said all along. I don't want Richie hurt, I think if we can get past all that flirty shit he would be a cool friend to have. If he can't then I guess I will just have to let him go, too bad really we have alot in common but Casey means more to me than Richie ever will.
He gave me some presents too. I am not a very material girl I have to say, I grew up unbearably spoiled but it didn't stick. Don't get me wrong, I am extremely self-centered in that I want what I want and will do anything to get it. However I am not one of those girls who gets all wet over expensive jewelery and the like unless I was thinking of what they might fetch at the pawn shop. I can take it or leave it and I HATE gold.
Anyway he had bought me these AWESOME creepers (NOT creeper sneakers) from DR Strange, they are black with a red patent panel with black zebra stripes and a silver buckle strap.I love them! He also welded me a belt buckle out of an old pair of brass betties we had, they are wicked! They have 1/2 inch spikes over each finger hole and would seriously hurt someone. He made it so I can actually take 'em off the belt and use them if I want, not like most knuckle buckles. I don't think I would because those spikes would make hamburger outta people but it is nice to have the option.
It was soooo sweet, he does stuff for me all the time but really doesn't think about gifts and such unless it's my b-day or x-mas. I don't mind, it just makes the times he does get me stuff all the better. He also know exactly what I like and would never waste money buying me a stupid gold ring or something, he would take all that $$ and get me something I really want.
I am not a typical girl, the first gift he ever gave me was his stiletto when we were 14/15 and squatting in L.A. and I thought it was the most romantic gesture ever! I still have it too.
I got a curious message on my machine from someone back home, something to do with communists and Baja. It was kinda garbled so I will have to see what develops. If it is what I think it is then the chaos I miss so much may have just found me here in NM. I am hesitant and excited and a little scared. I am sooo bad with temptation and if the "communists " turn out to be some old aquaintances then I will be in some serious shit! I can hardly wait to find out. Calexico here I come.
Do svindaniya commrades, Melody Lee

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Boredom.......a catalyst for trouble

So I left the short version on myspace but since I feel the need to purge myself of the info I will spill the beans on what happened yesterday. After I posted I was feeling like I needed to go do something . Being a predictable girl, I went looking for you know who. I know, I know, bad idea but too late fuckers it's done!
I didn't do anything I shouldn't have really but I guess just the fact that I was with him at all is a no no. He is sooo persistent, like I've said before, teenage hormones are a nightmare! I don't think I have ever been subjected to so many creative methods.
I have to say I am pretty experienced when it comes to guy of all ages but this kid is something else, he pulls out all the stops! He is truly impressive. He can go from over confident cocky guy to sensitive, puppy dog eyes guy to understanding best friend guy at the drop of a hat. He is like a getting laid prodigy, either that or a sociopath.
HMMM, that could prove interesting , I do seem to have a fascination with boys who have weird or scary personality flaws. I mean come on, I think Richard Ramirez is hotter than hot and he did all kinds of fucked up shit. Are you my little Night stalker? Yes you are! I know I am not alone on the serial killer thing, Lora has a crush on Dahmer for fuck sake. Dennis Raider was also pretty cute in high school. If Richie turns out to be a Ted Bundy-like chameleon I suppose that would just make him more attractive. I am sooo sick and wrong sometimes I amaze myself.
Anyway, I found Richie at the park, next to the half pipe and we walked over to the wooded area at the back, his friends were being all nosy so we had to go there to get away. I didn't mince words, I asked if he had any drugs right off. At that point I would have done whatever he had. He of course had weed. I have mentioned before that I really don't smoke too much so when I do I get super fucked up.
We were laying back in the shade, him shirtless (we were on it) and me just stoned out of my mind. For some reason I lose time when I get that way, it's like I can't gauge whether it's been minutes or hours. Anyway, Richie started in on his game and let me tell you he was giving it his all.
First it was the, "Come on , you know you want to get with this" approach. When I started giggling he immediately went for,"You know how I feel about you, you're not like any girl I've ever met*deep eye contact*,your just different, you make me feel different , in here *hand on stomach* and here*hand on heart*." I think I was more engrossed in his hand on his bare stomach than anything else, especially that dopey speech. What a crock of poo!
I had to take a deep breath to keep from laughing, I bet the post adolescent girlie's just sigh and drop trou when he busts that one out. I did not.
It was probably taken word for word from an episode of Dawson's Creek, ugh sickeningly sweet! Instead I reminded him that I had an old man and that we should be friends and nothing more. This was a little difficult because alot of my thoughts about Richie go way beyond friend and also because he was shirtless but I was being good girlfriend girl so I said it.
He then morphed into understanding friend guy, " I understand, it's just so hard because I want to have more than that with you, I can't help thinking about it. I'll respect what you want though. Friends are allowed to get close aren't they? I mean if we're just friends it's okay if I scoot closer and maybe put my arm over you? "
He is such a little shit! It was like a three pronged attack and I wasn't gonna let any of those prongs anywhere near me. It's hard for me to concentrate when I'm that fucked up, so it made it harder for him to interact with me. When he got right up next to me, close enough that I could feel how happy he was to be there, I picked up his arm and moved it off my waist. Then, getting to my feet I leaned against the tree and just smiled at him shaking my head, "You are something else" I told him.
I think he took it for the compliment it was cause he smiled that amazing smile and just lay there, propped up on his arms. Fuck! He is gonna be the end of me. I never really know what to expect from him, I just know that it will involve him trying to charm his way into my drawers. And he is oh so charming! Since I am always sooo fucking bored I think that is what drives me to seek him out even though that is the last thing I should do. That and the fact that he is an adorable little fucker. Not so little actually, He is taller than I am maybe 6 ft and has a really nice body, not too muscular. Guys swelled up with muscles look gross, like they got stung by bees so he is just right. He has the same build as Casey, tall and lean with good definition but nothing outta control.
MMMMM, when I think about what I would do with the both of them...........lets just say I shouldn't think about it.
We smoked some more and then he walked me back to the truck. It was getting dark already, I had been there for almost 5 hours (told you I lose time). He walked behind me, his fingers hooked in my belt loops. I told him it was like he was my prison bitch and he said that sounded like a game he could get into. Ahhhh that kid!
We made it to the truck and he tried to kiss me but I turned my face so he ended up with his mouth on my jawline right under my ear. That was almost worse than his original intention because that spot makes me go all melty like. I pulled away and climbed in the cab of the truck, it was a near thing, that feeling of his breath on my neck.
He shut the door and asked when he was gonna see me again, I just smiled and said I would surprise him and show up when he least expected it. He told me I better 'cause we were friends now and friends keep in touch. I know the kind of touch he's talking about.
I left and rolled up to the house around 8pm about 4 hours after Casey got home from work. Needless to say he was less than pleased. He didn't say much but I know he wanted to. I was still high and fell back on that to keep his questions at bay.
I am being good! I have repelled all Richie attacks to date, even though I want to give in sometimes. I do love Casey, it's just hard being here alone all day, not able to see my friends or go anywhere. I mean I could go somewhere but there is nothing to do here. I am too old to be making friends all over again anyway. I have no desire to do so, I want the people I grew up with, people I have know all my life. How can I replace that? It's impossible.
So I do this crap with Richie because sitting at home, bored puts me in a troublesome mood. It makes me do things I oughtn't. It makes me go looking for some kind of shit to get into because that is what I'm used to. I'm used to being in the thick of things, jumping from one misadventure to another. I am trying to change but it's just my nature to get into shit situations. A trouble magnet, that's me. I need to try harder I guess. Alot harder.

Friday, August 15, 2008

My home away from home




I feel better, amazing what 4 whole hours of sleep will do for you. I am refreshed! Whatever.


I watched Powder last night (I haven't seen it in years) and yeah, I'd do him. Sean Patrick Flannery is hot anyway but something about him being all milky looking attracted me. Hmmmm, not unusual for me. I fell asleep listening to ABBA which I am not ashamed to say I love! I have gotten old enough that I am no longer worried about the rusty sword of punk rock cutting my head off if I listen to the wrong thing. Kids are so stupid sometimes.


Anyway I have loved ABBA ever since I first saw Muriel's Wedding, which is an awesome movie by the way. It is a little freaky though that there seems to be an ABBA song for every situation. I mean every possible scenario! Feeling sassy? You are the Dancing Queen. Breaking up? Knowing me, knowing you Ahh hah, see what I mean. It's weird.


Casey was home early yesterday and I spent a majority of the evening annoying the shit out of him. I do this occasionally but mostly when I feel like crap. For some reason it makes me feel better. I usually poke at him or I will wait til he yawns and then stick my fingers in his mouth, maybe scratch my nails on him somewhere. I just generally irritate him any way I can. What can I say, misery loves company. He slaps my hands away and eventually relocates to another room. I just follow him and do it all over again. Evil ain't I.


My friend Ricky is DJing at The Mint back home and I wish I were there. I want to walk through that door and see everybody, make my way to the back where all the old heads are kickin it and sit and bullshit with people I have known since I was 12. Oh well. can't always get what we want right?


I am gonna buy a car I think. We have the truck but I don't really like it. I looove old cars but it is not practical to drive a roadrunner with a questionable engine cooling system through 50 miles of desert. Same goes for just about any old car I could get my hands on. I would love to spend 10 thou on something that has been completely restored but I won't. I will settle for something newer even though I hate most cars that were made after 1985.


I won't drive the truck too far because it's not really mine (since when has that stopped me) but if I had my own, I could get outta here and maybe go to Albuquerque or Santa Fe. I could go see a decent show with good bands. The only place here is called Gators and it pretty much blows, like everything else in this town. When they are not hosting AC/DC cover bands, they are booking shit like OTEP.


OTEP was the last show I went to and I may as well have stayed home. I would have had more fun shoving the $20 cover charge up my ass! I don't want to listen to a shitty band and pay way to much for drinks while I'm at it. Fuck Gators and OTEP!


I have a feeling that if I get a car I will be hustling my ass back to Cali for a visit asap. Actually I know I will. I will leave the majority of my money squirreled away in hole somewhere here so I don't get a wild hair up my ass and end up back in Bako selling and having an all around fabulous time. I will be responsible (mostly) and just get wasted for a couple of weeks before I come back, chunk of dope and bottles of Methadone in tow. I can use methadone to kick without getting stuck on it as well. I just take it for a couple of days then stop. That usually gets me through the worst of the withdrawals. I wish I had know that I could do that years ago when I first got on maintenance. I was preggo so maybe it wouldn't have been an option but it works.


I can get anything in Bako, that is why I should not stay too long, I have no control. I will be rolling in dope, benzos , coke, crack and generally anything that catches my fancy from the moment I get there.


I think maybe I'll get some more ink as well. Why not, I know so many artists and a few of them have their own shops so I might as well go for it. They always get a kick out of the fact that I would be getting drilled on and nodding out at the same time. They would wake me up and I would be like, " What, are you done already?"


I need to get this jail shit on my wrist covered anyway, it looks ghetto as fuck! Some jail tats are really good but they used shoe polish and ashes for ink so it has faded really bad and looks like crap.


I am rambling really bad, I think maybe 4 hours wasn't quite enough sleep. I am leaving a lil Social D on default for all my "Sick Boys" back home. This Sick Girl misses all y'all. Sleep tight in "The land of meth and oil", my beloved Bakersfield. Melody

Thursday, August 14, 2008

You bet I've got something personal against you

So yeah, I feel like shit but I won't go into it too much. I don't feel like giving all the I told you so's the satisfaction. I am sooo bored I can't stand it! I think that this place is starting to get to me. I am doing shit that is wrong on so many levels in even amazes me. The Richie crap for instance. What the fuck was that?
Many people out there may think that being a super-slut must be second nature to an ex-hooker/ all around good time gal but that is a crock of shit! Just because I was a whore doesn't mean I am a slut. Money hello?
I was always amused by the guys who picked me up that said, "Wow, you must be so horny to be out her doing this, I bet you love to fuck!" Morons!
Oh, yes, must have cock, running low on semen, energy waning need to suckie suckie! Are you serious? Maybe in some deluded porn fantasy are there girls working the streets just because they are nympho's who "must have cock".
And while were on the subject, what the fuck is up with the idiots who say,"You're too pretty to be doing this stuff" What the hell is that supposed to mean? Would it be easier to accept if I was hideous? Addiction doesn't discriminate, there are pretty junkies and not so pretty junkies, old ho's and young ho's. Thanks for the sideways compliment but that is a stupid statement.!
Anyway, I am not a slut.
I love men and sex but am pretty discriminating when it comes to the guys I hook up with. Sex for fun is different than sex for profit, after all who wants to get with a lousy lay after you've had several that day already. I have remained sickeningly faithful to Casey 99.9% of our time together. I am not a whore by nature but by design. I like that, it sounds so profound!*snickering*
Regardless of what SOME people have to say, I will not fuck Richie. I'm pretty sure I won't anyway. I love Casey and he has done an admirable job of keeping his dick in his pants for almost a year so applause, applause. How can I do any less?
Yes he is an asshole but is is also hella cool to be around, even if you don't love him. He is funny, sarcastic, not afraid to back up his shit and he happens to look magnificent in a brawl. I love it when he's all sweaty and bloody and...........anyway. I have issues. SURPRISE!
So, as I am now getting too antsy to sit here and continue what has ultimately been a pretty random post, I will say farewell........Miss me bitches, you know you will. Love Melody

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Not just a means to an end.

I am sitting back, cig in my hand as I let the feelings of satisfaction and well being wash over me. I have just done the last of my H and am enjoying it to the fullest.
Watching the blood run down my foot and between my toes has me hypnotized, making things in low in my stomach go tight and almost achy but in a good way. I love to see the evidence of what I've just done, the proof of my indulgence. Just like the moment when the blood first swirls into the needle; this after-time, after glow if you will is just as intoxicating.
I feel it , like a sexual caress, sliding down my skin and I am content. I am in love with the ritual surrounding my addiction. From the minute I start to prepare the shot to the moments after, when pulling the point from my skin I watch the blood well and run, I am enchanted.
I know I am not the only one, it is a common condition among hypes. The conditioned response we get when point meets flesh.....and penetrates. Just like doggies salivating at the ring of a bell our bodies start to hum with the feeling that all is as it should be, if only for a short while.
I remember scoffing at the very idea when my Dad mentioned it to me years ago. The thought that I was just as, if not more hooked on the needle than the dope seemed ridiculous, after all the poke was just a means to an end.....wasn't it?
I even tried to prove him wrong by snorting my next fix. I promptly sneezed and puked it all over the bathroom floor. It was as if my body would not let the dope enter my system by any other means. My body knows what it wants.
I'm sure that buried somewhere in the back of some dusty old psychology text there is a very precise and reasonable explanation for all of this. Something explaining why the act of penetration in all it's varied forms is capable of provoking a pseudo-sexual response even when sex is not remotely involved.
It's a kind of violation, this sharp little silver sliver invading my body but I invite the intrusion, over and over and over.....
I am incapable of saying no, even if it's my honest intention. The words dry up in my throat and then I realize that I never really wanted to say them anyway. The basest part of me has taken over, the part of me that only wants to feel and cares little for the consequences that might follow my selfish actions.
I look across the room and see little smears of red, tracing my path through the kitchen and out the back door and I am.........satisfied.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Just like huffing gasoline with a lit cigarrette in my hand

I would like to start by saying that I have been awake way too long and am so fucking tired I would blow the toxic avenger for a few minutes sleep. I guess that's not saying much since I would probably do it anyway just so I could say I did. I'm weird that way.
I'm in a pretty decent mood considering how I feel. I hate that I can't run out and cop a bag whenever I feel like it. It's probably for the best though, I have no self control when it comes to that shit. If I was in Bako my money would be well on it's way to becoming a pleasant memory. It sounds so good to me right now!
It rained like a motherfucker last night, everything got drenched including the truck cause I was too lazy to roll up the windows. I am a lazy, useless fuck!
I watched some vids of my friend Mikey who died in 05 and cried like a little girl but that's okay because Mikey was awesome! I miss him alot, I was looking at clips of him from Jr high when he was just a little punk kid with a devil lock and a smart ass grin and it made me laugh even as the tears rolled down my face. I guess it's true, the good die young. That would explain why I am still here.
I had a Richie moment last night. I was out front smoking at like 3am and he comes walking up orchard, looking all wet and cute and messy. I am so stupid. Casey is asleep in the house and I'm canoodling with a moist Casanova on the front porch. If that were not enough, I let him in the house and took him to the back room. He was way stoned and had a goofy-adorable smile on his face. I can't say no to that shit! He had weed and of all things nitrous. I hadn't done n2o since I was like 14. Why is it that he always does shit that reminds me of how young he is?
He pulled the cracker, balloons and cartridges out of his backpack and then rolled a joint. I was feeling so antsy and crappy that I would have huffed pc duster at that point, just to feel a little better.
We smoked the joint and I got soooo lit. I don't usually smoke weed so it kicked my ass! I'm surprised Casey didn't wake up from the sounds of me hacking and choking. I zoned out and snapped back as he held the balloon up to my mouth. I know how to suck, even stoned out of my gourd. My ears were ringing and shit sounded all funny, my voice seemed like it was in slo-mo and about 10 octaves lower than normal. It was a little like banging coke, at least the ear ringing part.
I lost track of time, everything was way out of sync, it was spectacular! Richie took this opportunity to get super close to me and slide his hands up my pant legs. That was so fucking weird, I was like what are trying to do? Do you think if you go up far enough you'll just magically crawl out of the waistband? I was giggling and trying to extract his arms from my pants, not an easy task when you can't see straight. I've had guys try to get into my pants before but this was a new one for me.
I finally disentangled myself and ended up lying on the floor with his head on my stomach. His hair was still kinda wet and it soaked through my shirt so it was like I could feel him all warm against my skin. Not good! Well really good actually but in a bad way.
We were listening to the Stooges and he started singing I wanna be your dog to me. It was time for Richie to go home, too much more of this and I would probably do him right there on the floor with Casey oblivious in the bedroom. I hustled him out the door and when I got back inside I looked at the clock and it was already 5:45. Just in time, Casey gets up at 6!
I wonder sometime what the fuck can be going through my head when I do stupid shit like that. I have never been able to come up with an answer.
Anyway, as high as I was, I still never got to sleep and so I am still wide awake right now. I think maybe there is a part of me that want to get caught, there must be. I am a damaged little girl, for sure and for certain. Melody

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Everything I touch turns to shit but I think I like it better that way

I have been thinking about all the crap that pisses me off. Since I have been awake for 30 plus hours, I have compiled quite a list. As if any of you really care what I think anyway!
This first thing on my list has to do with smoking. This was brought to the top of the list because when I feel as shitty as I do right now, dragging my ass outside to smoke is not my favorite thing to do.
Anyway, I don't care if you don't like smokers, I don't care if you would like to drop a bomb on every smoking patio in America. I don't LOVE anti-smokers but what really pisses me off are smokers themselves. That's right my fellow inhalers of nicotine, some of you are on my shit list. Not all smokers mind you, just the pussies who feel the need to explain themselves to every asshole who feels it is his duty to point out the dangers of tobacco!
Why the fuck do you care what some tree-hugging reject from green peace thinks about you? If you cared sooo much about the environment, you would never have picked up that butt in the first place! You definitely wouldn't be puffing on it now and chances are you wouldn't be flicking it to the ground(with an ashtray 2 ft away no less).
I am surely no poster-girl for the green movement. I destroy most of everything I touch and am pretty happy with that. You will never catch me apologizing for my nicotine habit, if someone doesn't like it they can fuck off and get the hell away from me and my polluted airspace. One of my favorite movie blurbs is from Saved when Mandy Moore says something like, "You know second hand smoke kills!" and the other girl replies, "I'm counting on it." I wish I had said that, it's brilliant.
Anyway, what pisses me off about these pussy smokers is that whenever someone says something clever like, "That is such a bad habit" they feel compelled to say, "I know, I'm trying to quit." BULLSHIT!
Why do they do that? They are not trying to quit, they are just trying to make themselves more acceptable in the eyes of others. I never make excuses for smoking, yeah I smoke, sure it's bad for me, so is everything else that is remotely fun or satisfying! Isn't that about a bitch? When I die an agonizing death from some form of smoke related cancer, you can pry the cigarette from my cold dead lips, til then fuck off!
Smoker pussies, grow a pair!
Another thing is Miley Cyrus, if I could kick that little twat in the mouth I would die a happy person. I hate the sight of her from her weird face to that irritating, nasally pseudo-cheerleader voice of hers. What kind of world do we live in that some publishing schmucks are gonna pay her millions of $$$ for her memoirs? She is all of 15 for fuck sake, what the hell can she have to write about? Tell me that good ol Billy Ray has been porking her since birth and then, maybe I'll buy her book.
I used to hate Brittney Spears but she is so fucked in the head that now I feel a strange kind of kinship with her. Anyone that screwed up can't be all bad.
People who chew on the inside of their cheek when they are spun piss me off too. I had a friend named Mindy who would gnaw on her face like she was trying to come out the other side and it irritated me (and countless others) to no end! There is something about seeing and hearing her chewing away when you are coming down, just as the sun is rising and the fucking birds are chirping that is enough to make you commit murder! It is your choice if you want to get all spegacked, geek it up baby, just don't eat your face, please. Clean the house or something, write a novel but leave the face alone.
That goes for pickers too! I do not have any interest in seeing what you have harvested from your pores. I don't want to watch you attack your skin with a pair of tweezers and a magnifying mirror. What the fuck do I have to do, outfit you with a pair of mittens, just to keep you from looking like Freddy Krueger at the end of the night? Put the tweezers down, step away from the mirror, for the love of God don't go in the bathroom!
People who take their shoes off inside the house piss me off as well. It's the floor, hello. I understand that you just got a new rug but I'm fairly certain than when you purchased said rug you knew it was going to get walked on, it is a floor covering after all. Morons!
Stupid punk-rocker kids who are outfitted in the latest political-punk propaganda really piss me off. I can't count all the times that I had some stupid little shit come off all preachy about politics and such, wearing his Crass t-shirt and $200.00 vegan leather jacket. First of all kid, pull your head out of your ass! Please don't think to lecture me about the state of things when all of you political knowledge comes from listening to Conflict and Subhumans records you bought with your parents money! If you even try to insert a rant about people being on the dole I will punch you in the throat! This is America and people here aren't on the dole they are on welfare. You are spouting English politics and those don't apply to us here in the USA. If you are such an anglophile move to the UK and try that shit over there, you know that English polito-punks just love Americans!
Don't get me wrong I love Crass and Conflict and especially the Subhumans but I can do that. I am a walking, talking contradiction. A junky who likes Minor Threat(when I'm pretty sure Ian McKaye wouldn't piss on me if I was on fire). I listen to lots of polito-punk even though one of my favorite slogans is 'keep your politics out of my music'. I'm not a racist but I think skinheads are hott! I hate most country music but love Hank Williams and Patsy Cline. You get the idea.
My world is as skewed as my point of view but I like it. That's all that really matters. If you don't like my life that's cool 'cause you won't ever have to live it. I suppose I should go now before I get all angsty and shit, nobody likes a crybaby.
I saw a shirt that said,"I wish my lawn was emo so it would cut itself." I think that may possibly be the cleverest thing I have heard in quite some time. It is also the only instance in which I would ever be caught with the word emo emblazoned on my chest. Laters, Melody

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Measured doses are sooo not my style!

It's been few days since I've posted and I'm sure it's no great mystery why. I have been indulging in a disgustingly excessive smack binge. I was informed that my "friend" was going to be MIA for a few weeks so, being the fiend that I am I doubled, um tripled up on my usual order. I suppose somewhere in the back of my mind I was thinking I would use it only on the weekends, stretching it out for three or four weeks. AH HA HA, HA HA, HA HA.

I may never recover from the dope hangover that is currently coursing through my body! I have been LOADED since Thursday and have just now retired my utensils to the darkness of the bathroom cupboard. I will undoubtedly pull them out periodically to half heartedly search for cottons when I really start to feel like shit sometime tomorrow.

I can't say I wasn't forewarned. Shelley firmly reminded me of the rule of three which I then chose to conveniently forget.

No more than three times a day or three days in a row you say? HAH! I scoff at such restrictions. I have no concept of self-control. What is this thing you call moderation? It sounds so, so dirty!

I am an idiot and will be paying for my Dope soaked debauchery for the next week or so. C'est la vie, or at least my life anyway.

Bonsoir daaaahlings, Melody