Saturday, September 20, 2008

The morning after/toilet brush terrorism

I opened the door.......BUT I did not do any speed, I did not leave the house and I sure as hell did NOT go shooting.......guns.
I got woken up by the phone around 2 or so and was sweet talked into compliance with the promise of pills. Little yellow ones with OC printed on one side and 40 on the other. I always thought oxy was overrated but you know me, anything in a pinch, besides it's better than spending the whole night locked inside my own head wired to the gills.
I opened the door with my hand out and did not move 'til the goodies were in my clammy paw;4 of the little dolls. I waved the boys towards the back room and made a bee-line for the john. I crushed, and fixed one of those babies right off. I figured I would get it in me and then go see if Casey wanted a hit. I did aprox 1/2 of one, thinking that it was probably just enough to get me nice and loaded. For whatever reason I didn't consider the fact that I've been clean off H for almost two months.
I sat on the toilet and hit in the big vein that runs over the top of my foot.
I woke up about an hour ago, my ass still on the toilet, forehead on the floor. There was blood everywhere because though I managed to pull the spike outta my foot, I left the tie on like a retard.I now have a spectacular bruise/knot on my right foot and my ass hurts from being perched on the edge of the seat all fucking night.
I forgot how uncomfortable that shit is! Back in the day I used to do it all the time, for awhile I had figured out just how much smack I needed to get dangerously high but not quite dead. The perfect shot was enough to put me out for the night but not kill me.....barely. My back hurts too and I have a red spot on my forehead from having it pressed to the floor like a tard.
I cleaned the dried blood off me and the floor and went to check on the spunions. The back room reeks of meth and gun oil, what a combo! There was a note from Richie on the couch. I guess I wasn't totally unconscious because the boys checked on me periodically and I was able to slur "Get fucked" and "I'll fuck you where you breathe with this toilet brush if you don't shut up and stop that goddamned knocking!" enough times that they left me alone.
My eloquence knows no bounds, even semi-conscious I can delight the ear with pure poetry! I will have to apologize to them for the toilet brush threat, it must have been pretty traumatic for him to have written it down word for word in the note.
AAHH, what a night, I got super fucked up and have no memory of it. An 8 on the 'What the fuck?" meter. I want to be able to enjoy my high next time so I will alter the dose a bit and see what happens.
I have 3 and 1/2 oxys left and if at first you don't succeed, try-try again. I'll wait 'til Casey wakes up though. In the meantime I'm gonna air out the back room and see if a triple whammy of febreeze, incense and airfreshner makes a dent in that gun oil/speed smoke odor film that is clinging to everything. I could lick the walls and get wired that shit is so bad. UUUGH!
Have a good weekend kids, XOXO Love Melody